5

FINE SPECIMEN

Jo stood in the massive closet in front of her dresser. She could hear Dean moving around in the bedroom, and was trying to slow her racing heart. Looking down at the choices she had for "pajamas" she scowled. Suddenly becoming self conscious, she rummaged through the different colors of lingerie and skimpy nightgowns. Picking the most modest of the nightgowns, she held it up to her front. Looking at herself in the mirror, she liked the way the soft, lavender silk looked. 'If only it actually covered something,' she thought to herself.

"Are you sewing the clothes in there or what?" Dean's sarcastic tone called from outside the closet door. Her nerves on edge once more, Jo slipped on the nightgown and looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror again. Dean had never seen her in something like this, or in the ridiculous outfit she'd worn before. She was scared, and unsure of what would happen. With a shaking hand, she opened the closet door to the bedroom. A whistle emitted from Dean who was lying on the silk sheets of their bed. Jo's fair complexion turned beet red, and he chuckled. With jerky movements, she made her way towards the bed and slipped underneath the covers. She pulled the black sheet all the way up to her neck and looked straight up at the ceiling.

"Jo, there's no reason to be afraid," he said in a calm voice. "Just because you're officially Queen doesn't mean I'll toss you to the side," he added. His statement made her even more anxious, and she was sure her heart beat was audible throughout the room. When she didn't say anything, he snapped his fingers and the main lights went out. They were left in darkness except for a faint light glowing in the corner, and she was just waiting for him to make a move. He was the Devil, previously Dean Winchester, and she knew both parts of him were sexually interested.

"Kiss me," he demanded. Even though she could only see his shadowed face, she knew he was staring at her with that serious glare he'd inherited from his time in Hell. Jo squeezed her toes in unease, and turned her head to face him. The only kiss they'd shared was when she died. It was bittersweet, and she was glad it happened. He gave her the best goodbye she could have imagined. However, now he was a very different Dean. Sucking in a deep breath, she looked into his eyes which were evidently red. When his eyes turned red she knew she wasn't talking with Dean Winchester, she was talking with the Devil.

"Kiss me," he repeated, slightly impatient. Mustering up courage, she leant forward and pressed her lips delicately to his. After a second, he felt like the Dean she'd kissed minutes before dying. His hand reached up behind her neck, and he deepened the kiss. A soft moan escaped her lips to her surprise, and she could feel him smile against her mouth. She was enjoying it, and she had no control. Pulling away, his eyes were still red. After a few seconds they returned to their normal green she loved, and he laid back down. 'That's it? He's not gonna make me do….?' She thought to herself.

"No Jo, I'm not going to make you do that tonight," he said, reading her thoughts.

"What? Wait…you can tell what I'm thinking?" she asked, her eyes widening in surprise and anger.

"Sometimes. It depends on what you're thinking," he commented as he folded his arms behind his head and sighed in contempt. "The closer we are the more I can hear," Dean added as he shut his eyes. Jo still stared at him, thinking over his words. "Goodnight Jo," he said before she heard his breathing even out. Slowly turning her back towards him, she curled up against the pillow to go to sleep.


The next morning, or what morning looked like in Hell, Jo woke up to someone calling her name. Before opening her eyes, she recalled what happened the day prior, and sighed. Being Queen of Hell was not how she pictured her afterlife to be. She then remembered Dean and her kissing before bed, and his face wouldn't leave her mind.

"Miss," the voice called again. Jo finally registered it as Jeannie, and opened her eyes. "Good morning Miss," Jeannie greeted.

"Mornin' Jeannie," Jo answered. Looking around, she saw that she was still in her and Dean's bed. 'I slept in the same bed as the Devil,' she thought over and shook her head in disbelief.

"The King would like for you to join him in the hall," Jeannie explained.

"You know, you can just call him Dean. That's his name, and I don't really care for the proper-ness and titles," Jo said with a smirk up at the young woman. Jeannie blushed slightly and turned away.

"So he's summoning me then, yeah?" Jo added with a roll of her eyes. Sitting up, she realized she was still in the skimpy, lavender silk she wore to bed. "But I need to change," she said with a sigh, and looked at Jeannie. The 'servant' was still wearing a plain dress, and Jo was unsure where she went when Jo was not in use of her. 'Maybe she goes back to her cell? I hope not. I hope she is somewhere decent since she's technically working for Dean."

Curiosity got the best of her, and as Jeannie followed Jo into the closet, the Queen couldn't help but ask her, "Where do you sleep? Where do you go at night or when we 'dismissed' you last night?" Jo used air quotes again, and waited for Jeannie's answer while searching through the racks of clothing.

"The King," she started and received a glace from Jo. "I mean Dean has employed me, therefore relieving me of my sentence in my cell. I am allowed to sleep in a different room that is safe."

"Good," Jo commented, still searching through the clothes. "If you don't mind me asking, when did you die?"

"I died in 1874. I made a deal with a demon to let my sister live. She was drowned by an evil man, so I made a deal for her life in place of mine," Jeannie said as she held up a suggestion for clothing.

"Wow, 1874? That's a long time ago," Jo commented with a raised eyebrow. She took the dress that Jeannie was holding out, and nodded in approval. It was still very short, and had some extra design on it, but it was acceptable compared to the corset and skirt combinations. The dress was black and silver, and of course skin tight. "I look ridiculous," Jo said as Jeannie helped her zip up the dress.

"You look beautiful Miss."

"Well thanks," Jo said with her classic smirk. "So being my 'servant' saved you from the punishments the demon deal got you?" Jo inquired. She was trying to make honest conversation, missing the interaction she had on Earth with people. Since her death, she'd been tortured on the rack every single day. It was standard for almost all hunters, and she was no exception.

"Yes. The worst part was the hallucinations. I would see my sister, almost every day. She would be holding a knife, and kill herself in front of me. I was forced to watch it, and it happened over and over again. I knew it was fake, and that the demons were just playing tricks. However, that did not cease the turmoil and pain it caused," Jeannie explained, as she pushed her dark hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry," Jo said, knowing that must have been difficult. Sometimes when she wasn't on the rack, she would hallucinate her mother, father, and sometimes even Dean or Sam. It was painful, and she dreaded it.

"The Kin-Dean will be expecting you," Jeannie caught herself and looked at Jo expectantly. Nodding, Jo put a pair of plain black heels on and followed Jeannie to the 'hall'. The hall was what Jo had termed the living room, except now they were sitting at the giant dining table that was off to the side of the fireplace. Dean was sitting at the head of the table, and another man's back was to her.

"Jo, you've decided to join us," Dean said, as if she really had a choice. Keeping her eyes forward, she went to the empty spot that had a place setting. Sitting down to Dean's right, she made eye contact with the demon to Dean's left that was across from her. Right as she sat down, another demon poured her a glass of wine. It was the same bottle that Jeannie had served her the day before.

"This is Arirca. He's one of my main demons," Dean introduced Jo to the demon seated across from her. She may know Dean, she may be the Queen of Hell, but she was raised to despise demons. Glaring across the table, she didn't say anything.

"Quite a fine specimen," Arirca commented with a smirk.

"Yes. She is," Dean dazed at her. They were talking about her like she wasn't even there! 'I'm not some piece of meat on display,' she thought in her head, wondering if Dean would hear it. If he did, he didn't act like it because he continued talking with Arirca.