Straight From The Heart
They were talking about him, standing hunched over in the corner, their voices low. They were talking about him, about how he was taking it. Sam was undoubtedly telling her about the smashed-up old piece of metal that had once covered the Impala's trunk, was whispering about the way his face was still sore after the vampire hunt, was muttering about the way the old college professor had cringed in fear and backed away.
He knew they were talking about him.
Sighing, Dean glanced up from his beer, his eyes flitting over to the pool table where Ash lay snoring before resting on the only other person at the bar. Jo Harvelle was busily flipping pages in a folder, glancing at the leather-bound book that sat beside her, and jotting notes down in an old notebook. She was helping her mother put together the details for a new hunt that they were sending someone (possibly the Winchesters) on.
The blonde, pretty in her own way (yeah, Dean's mind pointed out, pretty annoying), had, as usual, been all over the elder Winchester brother as soon as he'd walked through the door and into the Roadhouse. Now, however, her mind was elsewhere, skimming over pages of reports and trying to find a connection.
That was just fine with Dean. To tell the truth, he hadn't really felt much like interacting with the opposite sex lately. Ever since his father's death, that kind of thing just lost what minimal importance it had once held in his life. Now it seemed that everything just brought pain and memories flooding back through his system, and there was no way he could let it out. He'd already tried venting that rage, and the results hadn't exactly been good.
He sighed again, glancing back into his half-finished beer before suddenly snapping his head back up to look at Jo. He'd never noticed until just that moment how beautiful she actually looked under the dim lights of the bar. Her hair shimmered as she turned back to her notes, licking her lips and mouthing the words she was reading.
It seemed like, suddenly, he was seeing her in a whole different light, like his old feelings for her were being pushed aside so new ones could take control. He sidled up beside her at the bar, looking over her shoulder and taking the opportunity to smell her hair.
Jo looked over at him, a sly spark in her deep brown eyes. "Can I help you with something?"
"Actually," Dean said, suddenly giddy, "I was hoping I could help you." He smiled. It seemed that her eye contact made any feelings of love grow stronger, made him more nervous, made him want to buy her a pizza and some beers and play her Zepplin IV.
"Well," she said softly, noticing the way he was looking at her, loving the way one of his hands slid slowly up her back while the other rested just above her knee, "I've got some more notes in my room, if you want to see them."
"That'd be great," he replied, happiness flooding through him as he took her small hand and led her back toward her room.
As the two lovebirds disappeared down the darkened hallway, Ash sat up, eyes wide. "What the hell?"
o0o0o0o0o
"When Bill passed," Ellen explained, leaning against the bar and watching as Sam's eyes darted nervously around the room, "it took Jo a while to adjust. She got mad, kind of like Dean, and started throwing tantrums."
"She never hit you, though," the younger hunter pointed out.
"No, but she bit me once. Point is, it took some time, but she got over it. I think time is all your brother needs. After all, you said he opened up to you recently, right?"
Sam shrugged. "I guess."
"Maybe that's all he needs."
The man nodded, sliding off his bar stool and kicking at the dust. "Thanks, Ellen."
"Anytime, Sam. Listen, you have any more trouble, you boys come right on back, you hear me? You're welcome anytime."
"Thanks again," he muttered, "but we really need to get going." He walked toward the pool table, figuring Ash would probably know where his brother had gotten to, but stopped short as something in one of the back rooms crashed loudly into the floor.
"What on earth is that girl doing back there?" Ellen asked herself.
"Dean?" Sam called, looking around the dimly lit bar. No sign of his brother. "Hey, Ash, have you seen Dean?"
The former MIT student sat up groggily and looked around. "In the back with Jo."
"Thanks," Sam nodded, heading off down the hallway. Well, that certainly explained the banging and crashing noises that had been issuing from the room for the past ten minutes. Leave it to Dean to totally piss Jo off.
He got to the back room, down at the end of the hallway, and knocked lightly, not really wanting to disrupt the fight that he imagined was going on. He leaned his head against the cool wood, looking down at the flowered sign that read 'Jo's Room,' and sighed.
"Dean, come on," he said, opening the door, "time to go." He stopped abruptly in the doorway, eyes darting over the scene. No one was there. The room was empty. A complete mess, but empty. "Dean?"
A sandy head popped up, a large smile planted on the elder hunter's face. "In a minute, Sam," he said, ducking back behind the bed. After a few seconds, he popped back up, stumbling into his jeans, shirt held loosely in his teeth. "So, you ready?"
Sam gaped, unable to believe what he was seeing as Dean pulled up his pants and, fly still unzipped, belt still unbuckled, staggered from the room. The younger man once more searched the room, this time to find Jo's head sticking up from behind the bed. "Give a girl a little privacy, will ya?" she barked before disappearing again.
Sammy ran down the hallway and into the bar to find Ellen and Ash staring at him. "Seriously," Ash questioned as the hunter headed out the door, "what the hell?"
o0o0o0o0o
It had been quiet in the car, with Dean driving and Sam staring at him for nearly five minutes. It didn't take long for Dean's goofy grin to fade, though, and even less time for him to slam on the brakes and bring the car to a screeching halt. "Holy crap!"
Sam jumped and averted his gaze. "What?"
"What did I just do?" Dean asked, apparently coming out of whatever stupor he'd been in since leaving Harvelle's.
Sam sighed. "Jo."
Dean shook his head. "That's impossible."
"I wouldn't believe it either, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Man, what were you thinking?"
"I dunno. I just felt like-"
"Like banging the next thing that moved?"
"No," he shook his head again. "I dunno. Just…" he trailed off, suddenly confused, worried, and a little scared. It didn't make sense. Normally, doing anything with a pretty girl could make him happy, even if he happened to know that girl personally.
"You all right?" Sam asked.
Dean glanced at his brother, fully intending to flash a charming, reassuring smile. As he met Sam's gaze, though, he felt another wave of concern rush through him, along with a sudden bout of uncharacteristic honesty. "No."
"You want to talk about it?"
The elder tore his eyes away from his sibling. "What do you think?" he demanded, putting the car in gear and driving away.
Sam sighed, turning to stare out the window, not noticing the way that his brother's knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, a physical display of the younger man's annoyance.
Just a final thought on this one: I DON'T approve of Dean and Jo. Dean and Ellen, maybe. Dean and Sam, maybe. Dean and Jo, no way in Hell!
So, still eager to read:)