Two Years Later:

Dean Winchester: 25 years-old

Sam Winchester: 21 years-old

Jasmine Rhodes: 20 years-old.

Puzzle Piece:

THE DRIVE

Dean glanced sideways at the sleeping occupant in the passenger seat gave a loud snort-snore and couldn't help the quirk to his lips. Keeping one eye on the road and the other on the passenger, he carefully dug into his jean pocked to produce his cell phone. Flipping it open, he focused the camera setting; trying to hold it just perfect so he could get a clear shot. He got Jasmine's face in the little screen; she was slumped in the Impala's seat so that she was barely even on it, her head hung back against the back of the seat, her mouth was slack and drool running from the corner of her mouth, occasionally there was her unique snort-snore. Dean had never even known that it was possible until he met Jasmine Rhodes six years ago.

Dean was so focused on taking a picture of unappealing picture of a sleeping Jasmine that his foot let up on the gas, slowing the car down. Jasmine may have only been in the hunting game for six years in total; but she knew, even in her sleep, that if the Impala slowed from Dean's normal speed the was usually around a hundred, they were either at their destination or something was totally wrong. Dean cursed himself as he saw Jasmine freeze in her breathing and knew what he had done wrong - he snapped the picture quickly. Just as Jasmine squeezed her eyes, he had slipped his cell back in his pocket and turned back to the road. Pushing down on the gas pedal, Dean tried to keep his face blank.

Jasmine's eye snapped open, but she hadn't started to breathe yet. Her hazel brown eyes were clear and alert as they travelled from the car roof, to Dean. She let out a long as she sat up and wiped the drool from her face with the palm of her hand before rubbing it against her jeans. She looked out the car window and saw nothing but the lush scenery of blacktop and trees. Seeing as nothing was really wrong, she pushed herself up and turned her gaze back to Dean. Dean could feel her gaze, he found it really hard to suppress the laugh that wanted come out and play, so hard that the corner of his mouth twitched. Jasmine saw it though.

"What's up, Dean?" she said casually, keeping her eyes locked on Dean's face.

Dean gave her a glance before turning his gaze back to the road ahead of him. "Lot's of things, Jaz, lot of things." he said as simply and as casually as he possibly could.

"Name a few things," she said in a challenging tone.

"Okay," Dean grabbed on with a huge smirk as he glance at Jasmine, taking in her whole appearance in a split second. "Your hair," he laughed.

Jasmine didn't laughed, but she did sock him in arm. Dean made a mock "ow!" and rubbed the spot on his arm, as Jasmine glowered at him, running her fingers through her dark hair. She glowered at Dean for a second.

"No, you idiot!" Jasmine tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "What's up in your pants?" she asked Dean bluntly.

"What!" Dean exclaimed, looking down then at Jasmine before going back to the road. "Jaz, I know we've known each other for a while now, but I'm in a committed relationship at the moment . . ." he trailed off, giving her a scandalous look before turning back to the road.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" she tried to sound angry but couldn't help but laughing, slapping his arm. She smoothed out her expression at looked at him with her sharp gaze, "Let me see your cell, Dean."

"Why?" Dean asked, trying to stall; he couldn't believe that she had figured it out - was he that predictable? No, he reasoned, Jaz was a razor sharp and he knew that she saw that twitch and that fact that she was asleep and two and two together. But he was a Winchester and one of the things that Winchester's were known for was their bull-headedness. "What's wrong with your cell phone?"

"What's wrong with yours?" Jasmine might not have been a Winchester by blood, but she had lived with them for six years, and in Winchester years that was like sixty years.

"I asked you first," Dean returned like a petulant child.

"Well, I asked you second." Jasmine said, folding her arms over her breasts as she glowered very hard at Dean. "I am not an idiot, you know." she told him in a very even and low voice.

Dean cocked his head. "And . . . ?"

"And," she repeated. "I know you took a picture, Dean." her nostrils flared slightly as well as her eyes as she just stared at Dean, silent as a ghost.

Dean glanced out of the corner of his eye before quickly turning back to the road; Jasmine got quite scary when she looked like that - and, knowing that look made it even worse. "What proof do you have?"

"I know you," she said simply. "That's all the proof I need." she sighed and let her hands fall into her lap as she turned back to the front of the Impala and just stared out the window.

Dean furrowed his brow as he watched Jasmine out of the corner of his eye; he would have said that maybe it was Jaz's time of month but who was he trying to kid? He had met her when she was thirteen and now she was nineteen, from preteen to adult - how could he not be attuned to her every move; they were hunting partners after all. And he knew that this sudden silence from the teasing they just had was going to be . . .

Jasmine looked down at the hand in her lap; they were strong and calloused, but in a way, they were still a girls hands; small and the nail were rounded and smooth. Suddenly, she up looked at Dean. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you never found me back in those tunnels?"

Dean didn't even look at as he slowed his baby down, and pulled over to the side of the road before turning the Impala off. His tightened on the wheel as he said, "Where is this coming from?"

Jasmine just shrugged her shoulders but didn't take her eyes off Dean. "Just, do you?"

"No." Dean said finality.

Jasmine raised her eye brows, more curious now than depressed. "Really? You've never wondered if Sam still would have left if it weren't for me. If he would have stayed if you had spent more time with your brother instead of a stray?"

"You're not a stray!" Dean told her firmly. "And you know Sam; he never liked the Hunt, he liked school and books, soccer instead of guns. And the way he and dad used to go at it; it actually wasn't that bad."

"Yeah, until I came along."

"The only reason that Sam was mad at dad all the time was because of the way he looked at you." Jasmine furrowed her thin brows at this. Dean rolled his eyes but continued. "He looked at you like a daughter, stupid. Dad wanted two sons, yeah, but every father always wants a little princess." Dean smirked.

"I'm not a princess," Jasmine ground out.

Dean smirked. "You were - are, his Warrior Princess, Jaz."

"But Sam, Dean-" Jasmine started but Dean interrupted her when he placed his hand over hers.

"Sammy is my - our, brother and we will always love him; but he made his choice. I know you knew that he wasn't cut out for this type life style, it was never in his blood. Remember, he's happy where he is; with normal people and he has a hot girlfriend where he his - Harvard. And you know he's better off there, than he is with probably the most screwed up people in the world."

She remembered what Sam had told her that night; but she wanted to know if Dean thought that it was her fault. Jasmine saw a flash of sadness pass through Dean's emerald eyes as he thought about his baby brother, Sammy. He went to pull his hand away from hers, but she grabbed it and kept it where it was.

"Family is what we have left and we should stick together," She told him quietly, squeezing his hand tightly. "So, if you try to run away from me, I'll come after you. Baring a little gift called my foot up you ass." She smiled as Dean chuckled, this time letting him take his hand away.

"You wanna stick your foot up there, don't you?" Dean laughed.

Jasmine slapped his arm playfully. "Don't be such a pig!"

"Me? You're the one who likes to stick her foot up people's asses!"

"Fine, if I'm such a pig then you're the girl in this relationship; I know you got some girl part tucked up there!" Jasmine pointed to said areas where said parts were to be expected.

"Oh, really? You wanna play this game?" Dean asked as he got a glint in his clear green eyes. "Then I suppose there's junk dangling from between your legs?" before Jasmine could make a retort, Dean grabbed her leg and pulled it on the seat, yanked her shoe off and started to tickle the sensitive arc on her foot.

"Dean!" she squealed, kicking as she tried to get her foot free from Dean's grip.

But it was no use, she was strong but he was stronger. As she kicked, flailed and laughed until her side were heaving and tears streamed from the corner of her eyes; she started to grow weaker in her execution to escape Dean's iron grip. Jasmine like to think of herself as a strong person, strong woman - she did fight monster after all - but to thing that she would be reduced to a girlish heap of giggles was just insulting.

"Come on, Dean!" Jasmine gasped between girlish-giggles. "Your gonna make me peeee!" the last word came out as a definite squeal as Dean dove for her ribs.

Almost as soon as the word left her month, Dean jerked away from her. "Ewww! I can't believe that you just threatened to pee all over my Baby!"

"It's your fault!" Jasmine gasped out; laying across the front seat of the Impala, her bare foot in Dean's lap as she tried to catch her breath.

Dean wrinkled his nose as he looked down at Jasmine's now bare foot in his lap. "When's the last time you washed your feet?" he asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jasmine asked, offended. "My feet are way cleaner than yours!"

"Right," Dean rolled his eyes as he turned back to the steering wheel; Jasmine's foot still in his lap. "Whatever you say, man." he shook his head and turned the key in the ignition and felt life rumble through his baby.

"Shut up and drive." Jasmine smiled and put her hands behind her head.