Set between Tall Tales and Roadkill of Season 2.

Dean winced as Jo stitched up his latest gunshot wound closed. He took another shot of whiskey and hoped the warm, numbing glow of it would kick soon. He glanced down as Jo tied off the last stitch and he admired her handy-work.

"Not bad, Harvelle, not bad at all." He tried to hide the pain with a broad smile. She smiled back at him before reaching across him to grab the bandages.

"Thanks Dean. Now hold still for a little longer, ok?"

He had joined Jo on what was supposed to be a simple case, after she had called him and asked for help. He was her back-up as she checked out a haunted house that was supposed to be deserted. Supposedly. Instead the house was very much occupied by a crazy old lady with more cats than he could count and a shotgun and she wasn't happy about Dean and Jo breaking in and pouring rock salt everywhere. She had only grazed him with a shot but it was enough to take a chunk out of his side.

He shook his head and took another shot of whiskey straight from the bottle. He still couldn't understand just how crazy his life was sometimes. He hissed as Jo cleaned the now-stitched up wound with alcohol.

"Sorry" she muttered as she slowly applied the bandage and started to fix it in place with tape. He watched as her fingers moved quickly, occasionally brushing over his skin. He tried to ignore how much he liked the feel of her fingertips on his skin. He also tried to ignore the mental images his mind was torturing him with: him and Jo, naked, kissing, caressing and exploring each other.

"You Ok Dean? You look kinda spaced out there." He looked at her and smiled.

"Yeah I'm fine." If she had been any other girl, he would've made his move. He wouldn't be holding back. He wouldn't be worried about hurting her feelings. He wouldn't be scared of what her mother would do to him if she ever caught up with him. He downed another shot as he felt her smooth down the edges of the bandage, her hands brushing over his skin again.

"All done?" He quickly got up from the bed and instantly regretted it as a sharp pain shot out from the gunshot wound. Jo stood up next to him and put her hand over the bandage.

"Careful or you'll pop ruin my work, dumbass." Dean brushed her hands away from him, letting his t-shirt fall down over it.

"I'll be fine. I've survived worse, trust me." He staggered towards the bathroom, wincing not in pain but at his less-than-smooth actions.

"I'll kick your ass if you pop those stitches Winchester!" She called after him as he shut the door. He looked at himself in the mirror and repeated the same phrase over and over:

"She's like a sister."

Jo gawped at the bathroom door for a long moment before going up to it and pressing her ear against it. She could hear Dean mumbling to himself and she figured he had helped himself to too many shots of whiskey already. At least he wasn't vomiting. She couldn't stand it when other people vomited.

She sat back on the bed and sighed. If Dean was drunk, she would never get a straight answer about his surprise visit from a couple of weeks ago. But the fact that he had come when she asked him to made her feel good. In fact it made her feel almost giddy. She laughed when she admitted that to herself.

Sure, she had a crush on Dean from the moment he walked into her mother's bar and for a short while, she thought she might've had a shot with him. That was until found out that Dean only saw her like a sister. Was that the reason behind his surprise visit? And the reason behind his quick arrival after she called asking for his help?

She reached down and grabbed the nearly empty whiskey bottle and finished it off, just as Dean emerged from the bathroom.

"You ok now, Dean?" He nodded as he sat next to her on the bed. He went to grab the whiskey bottle but stopped when his hand touched hers. Jo looked at him, wondering what he was doing as he seemed to be transfixed by their touching hands.

She was about to say something when he looked up and into her eyes. They stared at each other; neither of them sure of what to do next, until Jo felt the need to lean in towards him. Her eyes wandered from his eyes to lips as she slowly tilted herself closer to him. She felt her stomach flutter when she realised he was mimicking her actions. She wet her lips and closed her eyes as she felt him get close enough to kiss her.

Their lips had barely brushed together when AC/DC blared loudly from Dean's cell phone, making them both jump back from one another.

"Shit." Dean mumbled as he got his cell out of his pocket.

"What is it, Sam?" Jo fidgeted as Dean spoke with his little brother. It was obvious the call was about a case Sam had found, which meant Dean was going to leave. Her mind raced as she tried to formulate reasons for him to stay.

He snapped his cell shut and started gathering his belongings into his duffel bag.

"Sam's got a case in Nevada. It's urgent, we got just one night to gank the son of a bitch." He explained as he packed. Jo knew she wouldn't be able to stop him from leaving so instead just watched him.

"I'll call you, OK? And I swear I won't pop your stitches." He flashed her a bright smile as he headed towards the door. Before she could respond, he was gone.