Chapter 1
The Roadhouse was not your typical dive bar; not by a long shot. If you were just passing through looking for a beer, this was your only option for miles in any direction. But damn those beers are good.
It wasn't just the beer that made The Roadhouse special. It was its patrons. Each one was a hunter. No, no, not like deer or elk. More like monsters. Yes, monsters. Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches. Oh, my! Yes, monsters are real.
The things under the bed and the other things in the closet that go bump in the night are just figments of a scared child's imagination. But these things are real. They are very much real, and can very much kill you. And The Roadhouse, dim and dusty as it was, was somewhat of a haven, a home, for hunters of this type.
This group of people, few as they were, had a particular set of skills, weapons, and know-how to keep a lot of people safe, and alive. And they all filtered through this bar. Not a hunter around didn't know The Roadhouse. After hunts, or just traveling through, you could always count on at least a couple of scruffy-looking dudes in the corner. The kind you don't take to making eye contact with; Or possibly a scrawny redneck in cutoffs, with a mullet.
Ellen, the matriarch of The Roadhouse, could make you feel as welcome as anyone of her daily regulars, no matter where you are coming from and where you are going. She is very welcoming, but you can tell she is not one to take anyone's bullshit. Know there's a shotgun under the bar for when folks forget their place. She is also Radio One when it comes to the "official" goings-on of the hunting world. There wasn't a hunter she hadn't met at least once, there wasn't any major hunt that she did not know about.
She was a sort of Mother Hen when it came to more than a few of her patrons, especially her daughter Jo. And she would be exactly as you expect. Jo was in her late teens, early 20s. Blonde. Spunky as all get out, could kick the ass of a grown man twice her size, with a smile that lit up a room. When she wasn't out on hunts, small jobs that her mother sent her on when there was no other hunter around, she was behind that grimy bar.
Be careful with that pretty face, though. Disrespect is not taken kindly to. Those long legs end in boots that have been up plenty a rude man's ass. She throws one hell of a right hook. Even though Ellen only sent her on small jobs, Jo was a great hunter. And she made THE BEST Sex on the Beach, ever.
Dean pulled Baby into the gravel parking lot of The Roadhouse. Feeling that slight sense of Home that came to him whenever he pulled up. It was always a sigh of relief when that building came into sight. This was one of the few places he felt comfortable. He got out of the car and shut the door.
Today was like any other slow day at the end of July at The Roadhouse. Hot and humid. Even in the cool AC of The Roadhouse, the few drinks that were on the bar were sitting in pools of condensation. Until the doors opened. Filling the dimly lit room with Noonday sun.
When Dean and Sam walked through the door, they were met with a scream.
"You two haven't shown your pretty faces around these parts in a long time! It's good to see you!" yelled Jo as she ran around the bar to greet them.
"It's good to see you, too, Jo." Sam said, a full foot above her head as he wrapped her in a side-hug.
All three of them turned suddenly when they heard the door to the backroom open with a bang. In the door frame stood a middle-aged woman. A surprised look on her face.
"Well, look who it is. Why haven't either of you called!?" Ellen had come out of the backroom at her daughter's scream. Now with hands on hips and an eyebrow raised in admonishment.
"You think one of you could have picked up a phone in the last few months! Even a text would have sufficed."
"Sorry, Ellen." Dean said weakly. "We have been going hunt, to hunt, to hunt. It's been busy lately with all the demon activity in the southwest. I bet you've heard all about that by now."
"Yeah. I've heard a fair few stories. It's good to see you, boys." Ellen smiled and walked over for her round of hugs.
As Sam and Dean took turns retelling their most recent jobs, Dean glanced over Ellen's shoulder. He noticed something in the corner of the bar by the pool table. There were a few patrons in the bar that day, nothing too special about any of them. The pretty girl at the bar didn't even interest him today, but there was still a strange sight. Something that took a moment to register in his mind.
In the corner, there was a table that was laden down with all sorts of books and a whole spread of papers. Maps, charts, printed-out pages and hand-written pages. Books that looked ancient and one that looked like Dad's Journal. Some open on top of the next in piles. It looked like someone was deep in research of the Hunting persuasion.
That was normal. Dean had seen that plenty of times here at The Roadhouse. Only this time it wasn't Ash leaning over the pile. It was a woman. Dark hair pilled messily in a bun on top of her bent head. She was busy comparing a chart of symbols to a book that looked older than anything Dean had ever seen outside of Bobby's library.
Dean was sure that he had been around The Roadhouse long enough now to know The Regulars, or at least recognize most by sight. He was also versed on many a hunter. Dean was also sure he had never seen this woman before. He definitely would have noticed.
She was tall, brunette. Slightly fuller in figure. She had muscle under that smooth top layer. She had a sort of punky/goth vibe about her, even with her back to him. Not like the magazine babes he had grown so used to seeing recently. She was perfectly filled out in all the right places. Black short shorts and a black tank top was her outfit of choice. With black combat boots.
'Nice boots.' Dean thought to himself as he took in this stranger. She blindly reached for another chart and knocked over a stack of books. When she bent down to pick up the pile, Dean caught just a glimpse of red lace under those black short shorts.
"DEAN WINCHESTER YOU GET YOUR EYES OFF MY ASS, NOW!"
What the…?
The stranger suddenly stood tall and turned around. Flashing eyes boring directly into Dean's.
He jumped back so fast he almost tripped. Almost like those eyes had physically burned him. But he didn't want to look away. She had him held there; eyes locked.
Jo started laughing. Why was Jo laughing?
Dean couldn't think with Jo laughing and this strange woman advancing on him. He almost tripped again.
"Oh, now you can't think. GREAT. Thanks, and all, about the boots, but could you stop staring at my ass. That would be awesome."
Jo at this point was crying in hysterics and Ellen was starting to chuckle.
The stranger gave one last warning look at Dean before turning her attention to Sam.
She looked up and her expression warmed considerably, a smile spreading across her face. "So, if he's Dean, you must be Sam." She said as she extended her hand. Sam did the same. "Nice to meet you. This is my idiot brother, Dean, as you already know."
"Dean." She stuck her hand out to shake his. The intense look she had given Dean was gone from her eyes, but in its place, a certain warmth, that almost radiated from her as she looked back at him. It was very welcoming considering the Death Glare he had just received. Wow. Firm grip.
"Name's J. Nice to finally meet the famous, and/or infamous. Winchesters. I have already heard so much about you. Seems some things are truer than others." Dean saw a flash in those eyes as she quickly looked back at him.
Did this chick really just literally say 'and/or'? Out loud? What a dork!
Sam pipped up, "Say… can I ask? How did you…?"
"…Know your brother was staring at my ass? Well, TL; DR version of the story is I'm a psychic. Like, think traveling carnivals. I'm literally out of a sideshow. Crystal balls, palm reading, auras, the whole cliché kit, and caboodle. My 'gift'" she put up her hands and made the quotation symbols with her fingers. Dean suppressed a smile. "is mind reading. I usually can't really read someone, or someone's mind, as clearly as that... But I was open and he had a… a very clear image."
"And a very loud mind." She laughed awkwardly and looked at her boots. It was all actually kind of cute. Wait, what did she just say!?
Jo almost fell off the barstool she had perched herself upon after regaining her composure. She fell into another fit of giggles.
"You can read minds!?" Dean blurted out, almost too quickly to be considered completely innocent.
Jo was clinging to the bar for support at Deans's reaction. "Not necessarily. The more focused you are, the easier it is for me to get a picture of your mind. The less you have going on up there, the clearer the picture is. In your case, all I saw was my own ass. I will admit, I was open to your thoughts, but my back was to the door. Wild Bill's mistake will not be mine. I also wasn't about to butt into what was obviously a family reunion either… But you took care of that one for me."
Jo finally stopped for a breath. This time Ellen gave a hearty laugh, and so did Sam. Great. Four against one. The odds are never in Dean's favor.
"You know she has a point. Shouldn't have been looking in the first place. By the way… When was the last time you got laid, Deano?" pipped up Jo, teasingly. She was slightly out of breath from the laugh attack.
Dean flushed. He couldn't remember. BUT THAT DIDN'T MATTER RIGHT NOW! What did matter was that someone, other than himself, knew about the Old West enough to know Wild Bill was superstitious about sitting with his back to the door. And ultimately died that way. Who is this chick, anyway?
"So how have you two, been? What's been going on around here since we last came around?" Sam, thankfully, chimed in to change the subject and save himself, or his brother, from even more embarrassment. Which one it was, Dean was not sure.
"It was good meeting you. On that note, I'll just get back to it and let you guys catch up. I have a lot of work to do. Remember, no ass starting." J said, pointing at Dean, as she turned back to the laden down table.
This launched Ellen into the most recent goings-on in the Hunting World outside of the Impala.
With one last long look, or what felt like long, Dean looked into J's eyes again. He noticed one was bright green with honey flecks. The other was a sweet honey brown with glittering spots of green. Like emeralds. Honey dipped emeralds.
He hoped she wasn't reading his anything right now. Hell. HE didn't even know what just happened. He certainly wasn't about to be thinking about it, on any kind of level, right now. Not with what had just happened. What just happened? Dean's ego was thoroughly bruised, that's what.
And there was a new girl in town.