Chapter 15

Dean was shocked when his brother walked into the house with Jessie, soaked and covered in mud. He wondered if Jessie had been angry with him, but they both seemed to be smiling. He decided it didn't matter to him, turning his attention back to the TV.

"I think you better have a shower before we leave," Jessie said to Sam with a grin.

"Ladies first."

"Then you better go first," she teased.

He snorted. "I still say you remind me of Dean."

"Oh really?" she said smiling. "Does he kiss like me too?"

Sam looked at her horrified as she covered her mouth in surprise by what had come out of her mouth. She could feel Dean's eyes on her.

"I think you were right, Sam," she said with a grin, trying to break the built up tension. "Dean has a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Guess I'm more like him than I thought."

He didn't want to, but Sam had to laugh. It was the truth.

"Fine, I'll go first," she said. "I have some laundry to do before we leave anyways."

He nodded, waiting until she was upstairs, then turned to glance at his brother.

"Just say it."

"Say what?" Dean asked looking innocent.

"Whatever it is you want to say," he replied, looking impatient.

"Hey, I told you I was okay with whatever you want, Sam," he replied. "I just thought you might want to take it a bit slower with her."

He glared at his brother. "Like you did, Dean?"

"She's damaged goods, Sam."

He snorted in disgust, then turned on his heel and walked up the stairs. He couldn't believe what his brother had said. If he hadn't left the room, he was afraid what might happen.

After Jessie had a quick shower, she gathered up her clothes to wash. She knocked on the bathroom door—where Sam was now showering—to see if he needed anything washed. He opened the door, clothed only by a towel around his waist. Her jaw nearly dropped on the floor as she saw his well defined muscles.

She turned away, her face slightly red. "Uh, nice tattoo," she stammered.

He smiled, almost laughing. "Yeah, thanks. I'm surprised you don't have one."

"Oh, well, I don't usually mess with demons so I never felt the need to get one," she replied uncomfortably.

"You can turn around if you want," he said with a laugh. "I think it's only fair since I've pretty much seen you naked before."

She turned around slowly, her face still slightly flushed. "Yeah, right," she said, losing her train of thought. "I, uh, came to ask if you needed any laundry done."

He turned around, bending over to pick his clothes up off the floor. She was frozen in spot, her eyes watching him closely, half hoping the towel would fall and at the same time hoping it wouldn't. She was torn by the conflicting feelings from her brain and her loins.

"Here," he said as he handed his muddy clothes to her. "Thank you."

She was grinning wildly as she accepted his clothes. She felt incredibly stupid, but she couldn't stop smiling like a young girl. "You're welcome."

"I think Dean might need some washed too," he said. "That's if you want to help him out." He was still angry with his brother for his last remark about Jessie.

"Okay, I'll ask him," she answered quickly, then left almost as quick.

She walked downstairs carrying her basket of clothes, with Sam's on top. Dean was still sitting on the couch watching TV.

"Do you need any laundry washed before we leave?"

He glanced at her basket, noticing Sam's clothes on top. "Yeah, but only if you don't mind."

"Not at all."

He stood up from the couch and stretched. "I'll bring them to you."

"Okay," she replied, walking into the kitchen.

She opened the door of the laundry room, closing it behind her. She measured out the soap into the dispenser on the washer, then picked up a shirt from the basket, it was Sam's. She didn't know what possessed her to do it, but she lifted it to her face, breathing in his musky scent before throwing it into the washing machine. She hurriedly stuffed the rest of the clothes into the machine. She was going to wait for Dean, but he walked through the door just as she added the last pair of pants.

"Thanks, Jessie," he said as he handed his dirty laundry to her.

"No problem," she said, taking it from her and throwing it into the washer.

She started the washer, then turned to see Dean still standing in the doorway.

"Is there something else?"

"I just wanted to make sure you aren't gonna hurt my brother."

"Excuse me?" she said incredulously. "How dare you of all people say something like that to me!"

"I know it's hypocritical, but I worry about him."

She tried to push him aside so she could leave, but he wouldn't budge.

"Screw you, Dean!"

"Look, I'm not saying this to be cruel or anything. He's just very vulnerable when it comes to women."

She snorted with frustration. "Yeah, and I've had a difficult past, I get that. But somehow that didn't stop you from taking advantage of me."

"I'm sorry, Jessie. I don't know how many more times I can apologize for that."

She was angry, but she understood his motivation. It was difficult for her to do, but she calmed herself down. "I don't know what you want me to say, Dean. But I will swear this to you. If I decide to have a relationship with Sam, I won't hurt him."

He nodded his head. "I hope so."

She looked at him curiously, pondering something. "You're afraid of losing him, aren't you?"

"I think it would take more than a woman to come between us," he replied with confidence.

"I don't know if I believe you," she replied. "But I have no intention of coming between the two of you. I told you that once before."

He narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything else. He turned around and left the laundry room without another word.

She sighed loudly after he left, putting a hand to her head in frustration, closing her eyes. She was seriously regretting everything she'd done with the Winchesters, including meeting them. She had thought all along they would be trouble, which is why she'd avoided them for so long. Now she was wondering if she'd been right all along.

She walked through the laundry room door, heading back into the kitchen with her head down. She'd only taken a couple of steps when she slammed into Sam, who had to catch her to keep her from falling.

"I'm sorry," she said, steadying herself.

"You okay?" he asked with concern.

"Why would you ask me that?" she asked suspiciously.

"You look like you're upset."

"Yeah, well, Dean does that to me," she said, stepping around him.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from walking away. "What did he do?"

She yanked her hand free of his grip, looking at him irritably. "It doesn't matter, Sam."

"Yeah, it does," he said looking serious. "It matters to me."

"You're sweet to worry, Sam, but it's okay," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "I swore I wouldn't come between the two of you and I intend on keeping that promise."

He seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he kept silent.

"Look, Sam. I don't want to discuss this right now," she said shortly. "I have things to do before I leave my house empty, since I have no idea when I'll be back."

He nodded. "Is there anything you need help with?"

"Actually—" she said, stopping to think for a moment. "If you could strip the beds for me and bring it all down here, I'd appreciate it."

He smiled brightly, then swept from the room without another word. His smile seemed to brighten her mood slightly.

She moved around the kitchen, checking for dirty dishes and wiping up any spots that were dirty. She felt a little stressed about it, unlike she'd been in eight years. She'd never made much of a mess in the house, but with two men in the house, she felt she had to make an extra effort to make sure it was clean.

When the washer was finished, she put the laundry in the dryer. She was just leaving the room when Sam appeared, carrying sheets and blankets from all three of the beds. She smiled thankfully, then stored them in a large bin in the laundry room before walking back into the kitchen.

"I prefer to hang sheets outside to dry when I can," she explained. "Makes them smell extra fresh."

"You're a regular Martha Stewart," he joked.

"Yeah, right," she said rolling her eyes. "I missed the episode on hunting."

They both laughed loudly, as Sam placed his hand on her shoulder. Dean walked in at that moment, being nosey.

"What's going on?" he asked suspiciously.

Sam and Jessie grinned at each other, as he removed his hand from her shoulder. They turned to Dean, then almost in unison, began to laugh again. It wasn't so much the joke, but his reaction to something so innocent was comical.

Dean rolled his eyes with impatience. "We gonna be leaving soon?"

"You know what, Dean," she replied. "Go ahead and leave. I know my way there. I have some cleaning to finish."

He glanced at his brother, who returned his look with impatience.

"Fine, I'll wait," he replied, stomping from the room.

"Just ignore him, Jessie," he said. "I think he's just irritable because we've had too much free time."

She looked at him strangely. "With the life you've had, I would think you'd both be happy to have some time off."

"Well, yeah, sometimes," he replied. "But I think he's just feeling restless."

She knew Sam was making excuses for him, which irritated her, although she understood why. She just let it go, pretending she didn't notice.

"Why don't you and Dean go ahead without me," she suggested. "It'll give me a chance to finish cleaning without anyone under foot."

He looked like he was about to refuse, then changed his mind. "That's a great idea," he replied. "I'll go get ready and when our clothes are finished drying we'll leave."

She nodded feeling a sense of relief.

She watched him leave with mixed feelings. She wanted him to stay, but she was happy to see his brother leave. Although she knew it was dangerous for her to get mixed up with a Winchester—she knew their track record—she just couldn't help feeling how she felt towards Sam.

When the laundry was finished, she handed the boys their clothes, then continued to clean. She vacuumed the livingroom, swept the kitchen floor, all before they left.

After they were gone, she cleaned the bathroom, cleaned the bedrooms and just tidied up around the house. She was trying to avoid leaving her sanctuary, but she couldn't once it was completely clean. So she double checked everything; made sure her security system was working properly, packed and double-checked her dufflebag, checked her weapons and ammo stocked in the car. When she was positive she was ready, she locked the house up and began the three hour drive to Bobby's house.

It had taken her almost two hours to finally leave her house, so she imagined Sam and Dean would probably be at Bobby's soon. She liked to drive fast, but she knew Dean drove fast as well, and she wasn't really in a hurry.

She was a little more than half way to Bobby's when her phone went off. She picked it up to see who it was–it was Dean–and hit reject. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, especially him. She decided to turn her phone off for the rest of the drive so she could have some peace and quiet.

It was dark when she pulled her car up to Bobby's house. She thought it was strange when she noticed the Impala was missing, but she was also relieved. At least she would have a few spare moments without the Winchesters around.

She knocked on Bobby's door, then walked in. There were lights on in the kitchen, so she headed there, dragging her dufflebag with her. When she walked in, Bobby was sitting at the table, reading and eating a sandwich.

"About time you got here, kid," he said.

"Yeah, sorry I took so long, Bobby," she explained. "It took me awhile to clean and then I drove the speed limit to get here."

He set the book down, gazing at her suspiciously. "What's been going on with you, Jess?"

She wasn't sure what he'd been told, so she looked at him as if she was confused. "What about?"

"Well for starters, what happened with Sam?" he asked. "Dean said it had something to do with you."

Jessie could practically feel her blood boiling in anger. She wasn't in the least surprised that Dean had blamed her, but to tell Bobby it was her fault, well that surprised her. She had known he wouldn't tell him what had happened, but she had thought he would've at least taken some of the blame.

"It had something to do with me, but it was Dean's fault," she replied, trying to keep her voice even.

"I really enjoy cryptic and mysterious, but could I get the Reader's Digest condensed version, please?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Bobby."

"That might be," he said raising his voice slightly. "But I want to hear it anyway, young lady."

She knew when he called her 'young lady', he meant business.

"Fine," she replied with a sigh.

He gazed at her with expectation, and impatience, waiting for her to speak.

"After a difficult hunt, chopping off the heads of baby vamps, I was upset. I decided to get completely shit-faced drunk and—" she paused for a moment, trying to think of the quickest and easiest way to gloss over the gory details. "Dean took advantage of me and that upset Sam."

She watched as Bobby seemed to be mulling everything around in his head, keeping his facial features even and untelling.

It took him a few moments, but once he realized the implications of what she'd said, he looked at her with disappointment.

"Dammit, Jess!" he said, slamming his fist on the table. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"That's it, Bobby, I wasn't thinking," she replied, feeling deeply insulted. "I was so drunk I don't remember a thing."

"Nothing?"

"No. Nothing."

He muttered something under his breath that she couldn't make out, then turned away from her. "I'm sorry, Jess."

"What are you sorry for, Bobby?"

He turned back to her, looking sullen. "It's my fault. I should've known something like this would happen."

"How the hell is it your fault?" she asked with a slight edge in her voice. "Dean is a grown man and he is not your responsibility."

"Maybe not, but you are."

She wanted to tell him he was wrong, she was a grown woman and he wasn't her father or even her grandfather, but she couldn't. As cranky and crusty as he could be, she cared a great deal for him and didn't want to hurt him.

"I'm okay, Bobby," she said with a supportive smile. "We've worked everything out, for the most part."

He looked like he didn't believe her, but he didn't call her on it. Instead, he was more than happy to change the subject.

"Thanks for sending this book with Sam," he said, pointing to the book he'd been reading. "It's very interesting."

"If by interesting you mean scary as hell, than I agree."

"Why don't you get yourself settled, Jess," he suggested. "The boys went into town to get some stuff for me."

She looked at him suspiciously, she'd noticed a look in his eye when he mentioned the boys. "You mean you sent them out of the house so you could talk to me, right?"

"I never could get anything past you, could I?" he asked with a slight grin.

"Nope."

"Go on, get outta here," he said with a smile.

She returned his smile then took her dufflebag upstairs into 'her' room. She smiled as she walked in and noticed how fresh it smelled. Normally she was the one who had to wash the sheets before she slept in the bed. But it seemed like he'd been expecting her this time.

Once Jessie settled into the room, she laid down on the bed, on her belly, her head in her hands and began to think. It had been a very emotional day for her and she was drained. She'd never realized how draining it could be to worry about emotions, until she was forced to stare them in the face. She knew it had been easier when she ignored everything, but she hadn't realized how lonely she really was until she began spending time with Sam and Dean.

She didn't realize she'd fallen asleep, until someone was knocking at the door calling her name. She answered them drowsily, then closed her eyes again. She would have fallen back asleep instantly, if whoever had called her hadn't walked in the room, calling her name once again, only much more loudly.

"What?" she called sleepily as she opened her eyes halfway. Her lids felt too heavy to open fully.

"Bobby asked me to come get you," Sam said apologetically.

"Oh," she uttered quietly. Not really understanding.

"Hey," he called then sat on the bed next to her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, moving herself into a sitting position. "I guess I was tired."

He studied her for a moment, then placed his hand on her knee. "You sure it's not something else?"

She gazed at him pensively for a moment, then stood up. "I'm not sure what you're asking, but I'm fine."

He stood up after she did, looking apologetic. "I didn't mean anything by it."

She waited to see if he was going to say more, because it seemed like he wanted to say something, but he didn't.

"Sam, if this is about what happened between us—" she stopped, unsure what she was going to say.

"No, Jessie," he said, looking supportive. "I meant, uh, um–" He looked uncomfortable as he struggled for the words. "With all the emotional stuff that's been going on...it must be taking it's toll on you."

A few weeks ago, a comment like that would have upset her. And maybe even now, if uttered by someone other than him or Bobby. But right now, it made her feel much different. Only she wasn't in the mood to deal with it at the moment.

"I appreciate your concern, Sam. But I'm not really in the mood to discuss my feelings right now."

"What are you in the mood to discuss?"

She wasn't sure if he was fishing for something or really concerned, but she wasn't fully awake and definitely wasn't in the mood to talk about anything. She began to walk past him, when he reached out for her hand, grasping it firmly. She stopped immediately, trying to keep an even face.

She sighed. "What is it, Sam?"

He entwined his fingers with hers, then pulled her close. She was close enough, he could smell the faint scent of whatever cleaner she had been using to clean her house. It made him smile to think of her as a regular woman, instead of the hard-ass hunter he'd first met.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but—" he paused for a moment, waiting to see if she was going to interrupt, but she didn't. She seemed to have stopped breathing, anticipating what he was going to say. "I need to know how you feel about me, Jessie."

She closed her eyes in concentration and let out a long sigh. It was a few moments before she opened them again, trying very hard to keep control of herself. However, her hand began to tremble so much, Sam squeezed it in support.

"I told you before, Sam. I really do like you."

"I feel a but coming," he said, feeling disappointed.

She smiled lightly, hoping to alleviate his disappointment. "If we're going to work together, then I think things need to be a little less serious between us. At least until this werewolf is dead."

It seemed like he was still slightly disappointed by her response, but there seemed to be hope in his eyes.

He leaned close for a moment, kissing her gently on the forehead. "Okay. I think I can live with that."

She smiled. "Now, what did Bobby send you up here for?"

"Oh," he said in surprise, releasing his grip on her hand. "He wanted you to come and eat."

"Oh," she replied. It was her turn to be surprised. "Did he cook?"

"We all did," he replied with a strange grin.

"Should I be worried?" she teased.

"Maybe," he said with a smile. He paused for a moment, turning serious. "But I thought I should warn you about something." She thought she knew what he was about to say, but she didn't interrupt him. "Dean's in a terrible mood."

"What else is new?" she replied with sarcasm. She knew exactly why he would be in a bad mood, but she didn't let on.

Sam grinned. "Bobby told him off about the other night. It was strangely amusing to watch."

"A shame I missed it," she replied with a smile.

"I better be heading downstairs. I'm sure Bobby is wondering what's taking so long."

She nodded her head, watching him turn and leave the room. Once he was out of earshot, she released a very long sigh of relief. She was finding it immensly difficult trying to hold herself in check, when all she wanted to do was kiss Sam again. She tried to push that thought out of her head, but she was finding it increasingly difficult. Every so often, the image of him standing in the doorway to her bathroom, clad in nothing more than a towel, would pop into her head.

She went into the bathroom so she could clean up before heading downstairs. She was almost afraid to find out what kind of meal could be waiting for her, so she dawdled for a few moments to prepare herself. When she was ready, she walked to the stairs slowly.

As she got to the top of the stairs, she could smell delicious odors floating up from the kitchen. She was shocked, yet slightly amused. She tried to guess what had been cooked by the smell, but there were so many smells she couldn't tell.

When she walked into the kitchen, she was shocked by the spread of food on the table. There were carrots, corn, mashed potatoes, rolls and a pot roast. The table was even set with napkins.

She turned and smiled at Sam, who was smirking at her from the other side of the table. Bobby came walking from the counter, carrying a bowl full of gravy and set it down on the table.

"About time you made it down here," Bobby said. "I thought we were gonna have to start without you."

"Well, I heard you cooked and had to decide if I wanted to chance food poisoning," she teased.

"We all cooked," Dean said with a smile, as he picked something up from the counter. "We even got pie!"

She glanced at the pie he was holding in his hand with a questioning look. "What kind is it?"

"Apple," he replied. "Bobby said you don't like other kinds of fruit pies."

She smiled at Bobby meaningfully. "It's sweet you remembered."

He smiled lightly, then looked at her seriously. "You gonna sit down so we can eat, or what?"

She shook her head with a smile, then took her place at the table between Bobby and Sam.

"I didn't even know you boys could cook," she joked.

"There's a lot about us you don't know," Dean replied with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his remark. She wondered why he was putting on an act when Sam had said he was in a miserable mood. Then she decided she didn't care. She just wanted to sit through dinner and forget about her cares for a short time.

It was a pleasant dinner that Jessie enjoyed very much. Although the meat was a little overcooked, the gravy was thin and salty and the potatoes were sticky like glue, it was one of the best meals she'd eaten in a long time. It almost felt like she had a family again.

After having pie with vanilla ice cream, Jessie grabbed her laptop and sat in the livingroom with Bobby. She knew by sitting there, neither Dean or Sam would say anything personal to her, which she wasn't in the mood to discuss at the moment.

The four of them spent the entire evening reading and researching. Dean was the first to head to bed, just after one in the morning. Sam was next just over an hour later, leaving only Bobby and Jessie.

Bobby moved to the study after Sam left, while Jessie stayed in the livingroom. She was hoping he would fall asleep before she did. After an hour and a half, and a few visits back and forth through the study on the way through the kitchen, Bobby finally fell asleep in his chair.

Jessie closed the door to his study quietly, then retrieved her car keys from her pocket. She walked to the front door, opening it silently, stepping out into the early morning.

A/N: Always seems like one step forwards then two steps back for Jessie, doesn't it?

Thanks for reading!