I took my time before I came downstairs. I had a few questions, unfortunately most were things I couldn't ask my dad without looking weird. And some were clearly going to be for John's ears only.

As I walked down, I was happy to hear that Dad was over most of his irritation. At least the verbal bitching part was over and done with. I found Dad with the Winchester men crowded around the kitchen table, instead of food, weapons were abundant.

"Unless you guys expect to eat," I took a careful look at the array of weaponry and shook my head. "Blades and bullets, I'd suggest you move that to another room. Any other room, actually." I felt their attention focus on me and rolled my eyes. "Should I make dinner, or do you four really not eat when no one is around to remind you?"

John chuckled and I had to close my eyes to forget all the other times that sound shot through me. I cleared my throat and reopened them to see nothing had changed. It was ALMOST like I was speaking Greek, almost because I was fairly certain that Dad had a pretty decent hand with languages that I'd only dipped my toe in.

"Seriously, Dad?" I groaned at his sly smile. Oh, I see, now I know about hunters and hunting, welcome to the club of weapons before food. Not on my watch. "Fine, I'll just order something and go pick it up from town." I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and knew that each and every one of them had looked at the darkness outside the window. Oh well, it was take out, or starvation, and I knew which one I'd pick. "Pizza, alright?" Not hearing agreement or dissent, I walked from the kitchen toward the living room. Ordering a few different options, and already knowing John and Dad's preference, I had just pushed "End Call" when I heard the four of them clucking like wet hens.

Sighing, and suddenly uncertain I wanted to be a part of their club, I walked back to the kitchen, leaning against the wall and watching them bicker about- me apparently. Huh, this was a fun new development. I waited for them to notice me, for them to realize that I was a grown ass woman, or for them to just notice that I'd finally managed to make them forget about maintenance of their weapons. It took the younger men more time to note me standing in the doorway, but John and then Dad came to it faster. It grew quiet, too quiet, as four sets of eyes focused on me again.

"What?" I asked, feeling self conscious. The silence was becoming oppressive, when Dad cleared his throat.

"Don't want you going after that food alone, sweetheart." I nodded, of course, that was a given. Why was he looking so irritated at the thought of it? "John here," he grunted and pointed his chin at him, "insists he go with you." Ah, that would do it.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes off of John Winchester. "Whatever you want, Daddy." I answered, hoping that by putting the power in my dad's hands, he'd feel less insecure about John's clear interest. I saw him studying my face, and I prayed hard that my features were schooled into a look of indifference. Having John killed by one of the weapons he was helping prepare would really ruin the night. I fought against fidgeting a tell that I'd had since I was a child. And kept my focus on Dad's face.

He finally huffed out a breath, and I nearly closed my eyes in relief, but that would have ruined the image I'd created of nonchalance. "Fine." He had his hand on his wallet, but I shook my head. Dad rolled his eyes, a constant source of his irritation was the fact that my grandparents kept me in credit cards and cash. "I don't want ya buying our dinner, honey." Dear God, why did he have to have his hackles raised by the Winchesters and make this more difficult. Sighing, I held out my hand. He pressed more than enough money for the food, and I knew I'd be picking up drinks as well. "Don't forget-"

I nodded, cutting him off. "I know your favorites, and I image that Mr. Winchester knows any other additions that I should add to the list." He squinted at me, and I was trying to decide what I'd said wrong. Shit, had I been introduced to them? I fought to think back, while trying not to look panicked. Fuck. Had he told me their names? Should I know John's last name?

I watched Dad shrug it off, but I knew, deep down he'd be considering it. During the entire time we were gone, no doubt. And I wondered, would he figure it out and be waiting with a weapon when we got back?

John insisted on taking his truck. The same truck I'd had to drive that first night. Instead of allowing me to jump onto the passenger seat, he came around and gave me a lingering hand up. I felt my eyes close as his calloused hands gripped my waist, sliding slightly under my t-shirt so I could feel him against my bare skin, and felt my breath catch. Swallowing hard, and fighting to not turn my head for the kiss I'd seek under normal circumstances, I was brought back to the reality of the situation by Dad yelling a reminder to John. Which I missed entirely as he hefted me into the seat, his fingertips brushing my bare just thigh below my shorts. Shit.

I heard his voice answer Dad, but God help me I didn't actually hear anything that was said. Those hands, how long had it been since I'd felt them last. Really felt them, on my skin, pulling me against him. I kept my eyes closed, waiting for him and Dad to finish whatever they were discussing, so he could join me in the damn truck and we could be alone. Finally.

When I felt him join me in the truck, closing his door and bringing the truck roaring to life. I didn't feel myself relax until I felt the gravel turn to pavement. "Feeling better, darlin'?" John's voice was low, but I heard him just fine. "Aren't you gonna come over here and show me that you missed me, just a little?" I groaned at him, and gave him a look that he caught. "Come on, Pari, you know you want to." Christ, of course I did, but he was seriously pushing his luck with Dad.

I shifted, moving closer to him. "You can be such an ass, John Winchester." I whispered, leaning my upper body closer to him, letting my lips touch his ear. "You're fucking lucky I love you." I felt his hand slide over to touch my leg, and I flicked my tongue against the skin just under his ear. Feeling him moan, and then the swerve of the truck, the tires hitting gravel and then stopping with a lurch.

His hands were on my waist, yanking me onto his lap, the steering wheel biting into my lower back. And then our lips met and I felt that same hard tug of need that I felt every single time we touched. He pulled back long enough to repeat my declaration of love, and I swore to myself that I'd savor those words every single fucking time he uttered them. "We don't have time to do what I really want to do right now, Pari," it came out as a groan and sounded as pained as I felt at the knowledge that we'd both be left wanting. "But I had to hold you, sweetheart," His forehead was pressed against mine and we sat quietly breathing one another in.

"I know," my voice was quiet. "Jesus, do you think Dad suspects?" I pulled back so I could see his face fully in the dim light offered by the moon.

He shook his head, but I could tell he wasn't sure. "I don't think so, but Bobby, he's pretty fucking observant, baby girl. I think he thinks something's off, but I don't think he's figured out what, yet."

I pulled away, but kept his hand in mine. Sitting back against my seat, I considered what to do, but John knew we had to get to town. A brief break was one thing, but Dad wouldn't be so understanding with a longer than he deemed necessary delay. Getting the truck back on the road, I bit my lip considering what our options were. Telling Dad outright sounded like a great idea, for a daughter whose father wasn't armed to the gills. Breaking it to him gently, would probably go as well as the one time I'd had a boyfriend visit me during one of my vacations with Dad. That shotgun came out quick. The breakup was quicker.

We made it to town quicker than I'd expected, and while a part of me would have loved to take our time together, picking up dinner and shopping for the alcohol Dad liked, John's favorites, and whatever it was his sons preferred, we decided on a divide and conquer approach. He parked in front of the pizza place, and while I went in to pay and pick the food up, he ran across the street to the liquor store with a handful of the bills Dad gave me. I was opening the passenger door of the truck, juggling boxes when I heard the noise of a car pulling up behind me. I pushed the boxes across the seat and was about to climb up when a voice stopped me.

"Why, Parisa Allison, I didn't know you were in town." I turned and a smile turned up the corners of my mouth. The one person who KNEW who I was in my dad's life, Sheriff Jodi Mills stood before me. Her smile answered mine.

"I was supposed to leave today, but-" I saw her take in the dark and had a flash of curiosity. Did she know? "Anyway, getting your dinner, I guess?" Cocking toward the pizza place I'd just come out of. She nodded, and then squinted at the truck behind me. Oh, right. "Dad had visitors, so one offered to come with me to pick up our dinner."

Jodi's gaze faltered as I felt John come up beside me. "Hey, Sheriff." He said, easily, putting down his overabundance of bags. Dear God, it looked like they were drinking dinner, which wouldn't surprise the woman in front of me, I figured.

"John." She answered, and that confirmed my suspicions, she knew. She knew about hunting, it was the way she said his name, as though she wanted to know why he was in town. If there was trouble, if she could help. But she kept it all to herself, still believing that I was innocent. I nearly groaned. Jesus, Dad did a bang up job of keeping me on the WAY down low.

I felt John's hand on my back as he turned back to face her, out of sight of another person in my life who could see too much I hoped. His fingertips brushing under my shirt hem, making me want to fidget. Fuck, was he doing this shit on purpose. I heard them making small talk, and like at Dad's house, I heard no real words. Static, my focus entirely on his fingers on my skin. Shit, he was short circuiting my brain. I noticed that the attention had shifted, and they were both looking at me. Damn it, someone asked me something and I heard not a word.

John's eyes were twinkling in the neon of the shop sign. And that fucking dimple was mocking me. I bit my lip, feeling his fingers still on my skin and cleared my throat. "Sorry, I think I spaced out there. Did you ask me something?" I directed it at Jodi, thinking she probably was the source of the missed question.

She gave a light chuckle. "I asked, are you planning on staying for awhile longer? I thought you and I could have a girls' day, I have a day off coming up."

Ah, right. I nodded, feeling a spark against my back as John's whole hand covered my bare lower back under my t-shirt. "I want to stay longer, but you know Dad." I shrugged, swallowing hard at the heat from him. "Call me, and I'll let you know, because I definitely need a girls' day."

Jodi smiled and agreed, then she said her goodbyes and walked into the pizza place. John's head dipped to my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "I thought you left us for a second there, darlin'." His hand was wreaking havoc on my body, and that was one hand on the small of my back. How the hell would we keep this a fucking secret from Dad?

We got back within Dad's inner acceptable time frame. I mentioned meeting Jodi and her offer for a day together and I saw a hint of a smile. I knew that Dad had a bit of a crush on her, and I was fairly certain, if he'd get his temper and other vices under more control he'd have a chance. Any extra time with her would give me more time to talk him up. I hated that he stayed alone so much, even if he was hunting and helping hunters. It wasn't the same, I thought, feeling my eyes search out John's.

I was happy to see that John's sons and Dad had cleared the table of hunting paraphernalia. I watched as the taller of the two, Sam, I think John had mentioned, casually found the plates while his brother, Dean grabbed napkins and glasses. I was also content to see that John had picked up some sparkling water for me. We gathered around the now crowded kitchen table, pushing through the boxes, grabbing pizza, wings, and the other sides I'd ordered and I was startled by how naturally these men all went together. I was seated between Dad and John, the reality of it nearly made me laugh, nearly. And then, under the table, I felt John's hand cup my knee. Luckily I hadn't taken a bite yet, and my drink was safely on the table, so I didn't choke, but I did gasp.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Dad asked me, turning away from something he and Dean were discussing or arguing about. The concern in his face made me swallow hard again. Shit. I felt John's hand sliding up my leg and I bit my lip, grimacing.

"Yeah, Daddy, I'm fine." The last part came out as a bit of a hiss, John's fingers were teasing under the leg of my shorts. "I realized I forgot the red pepper flakes and-" another lip bite as his long thick finger slid higher, teasing my skin. "The Parmesan."

I had an audience again. John was eating with his other hand, watching my face, knowing my other tells. But so were his sons, and Dad, for fuck's sake. "That's alright, honey," Dad assured me, patting my arm and missing the fact that my hand was fisted on the table as John's fingers pressed ever higher. "I'm sure we'll make due."

I nodded, feeling my face flush as he found his target, the edge of my panties. Fuck. I cleared my throat and dared to take a sip of my drink, thankful when he stilled his hand so I wouldn't fucking choke. I was going to kill him. Honestly. Dad would be the least of his worries. I picked up my slice and was about to take a bite, when I glanced at him. He was smiling at something Sam was telling him, and I saw him dart a glance at me and give a small nod. Biting down, his finger slid under the elastic of my panties and touched me making me moan indecently as I chewed the bite I'd taken.

They were all focused on me again, John's fingers stilling again, letting me swallow my bite and taking another drink, hoping it would somehow cool me down. "What?" I asked, sounding breathless to myself. "I haven't had a good slice in quite some time." Dean nodded, clearly agreeing with my assessment, but Dad was squinting at my face again and I felt like sinking into the damn floor.

Eventually talking resumed and so did John's fingers. I was praying I was managing to hide the way he was affecting me, but I had doubts. Like when his finger slid between my dampness and I nearly jumped out of my seat. I covered it, as best I could, by feigning remembrance where I'd left my toiletry bag. Letting Dad soothe me into finishing dinner and making myself settle back into my chair. Or when his finger breached my opening and I knocked over my, thankfully almost completely empty glass, thankful that Dad had hunter's reflexes and caught it before it made a mess. Like its owner. Dinner couldn't end fast enough. At all. Then his hand, his teasing left, and I was able to follow the flow of conversation finally. Right up until I noticed him lick his finger, as though he'd accidentally gotten pizza grease or sauce on it. Closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. Of me. Shit.

I gave up. I called it a night. I gave Dad a kiss on his cheek and said I was exhausted. I told the Winchesters goodnight and then, as fast as I'd rushed down the stairs earlier that day, I ran right the fuck back up them.