A Few Days Later:

Bobby Singer: Early 40's

John Winchester: Early 40's

Dean Winchester: 26 years-old

Jasmine Rhodes: 21 years-old.

Puzzle Piece:

CAUGHT

Dean and Jasmine sat on either end of Bobby's couch, their eyes down cast, pressing themselves back into the couch as if the wanted to disappear from sight. And that was exactly what they wanted to do, Bobby noted from his spot behind his desk. Bobby thought that he would too, especially the way John was glaring down at them. But, he seemed more focused on Dean than he did Jasmine; and Bobby knew it was because john thought that Dean should have known better.

Dean had gotten caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar, and the cookie jar was Jasmine's pants. Bobby had had his suspicions, after the wall incident. Bobby had always seen how close that Dean and Jasmine had been; as it was once said "Once you save another man's life, you're responsible" - or girl for this matter. But what Dean and Jasmine had was different than that, it wasn't just about responsibility, it was also love. Bobby could see it in the way that each of them acted around each other, treated each other. But now, it was different or a least the type of love was different.

Bobby wasn't positive of their relationship until now - and this was one time he was glad to be an old man.

John was pissed, no, he was more than pissed; he was furious. "How could you be so stupid, Dean!" his mind yelled, not realizing he had actually said it out loud.

Dean looked at him than. "I don't think that I did anything stupid, dad." his face was a hard as his voice.

Bobby raised his eye brows in utter surprise; Dean had never ever used that tone of vice with John. That boy's finally growing a pair, Bobby thought.

John was shocked to say the least, but that didn't stop the anger that came from the disrespect in the tone Dean had spoken. "Don't use that tone with me," John told him.

Dean sat up straight, glaring at his father. "And what tone is that?"

Ball's indeed, Bobby thought.

Before John could open his mouth and yell back, Jasmine's brass ball decided to come into play.

"I don't see what the problem is,"

John turned his gaze to her.

"There is a problem, Jasmine, a big problem! And you should see it, both of you! You're hunting partners, and that's all you're supposed to be. You're supposed to trust each other enough to have the others back, so when your partner gets killed on the job, you move on. You're are not supposed to form a relationship and get attached. What happens if either one of you gets hurt or worse? Do you think you're going to be able to find another partner?"

His question was met with silence, but he saw the determined glance that Dean and Jasmine shared.

"This is gonna bite you guys right in the ass," he told them, running a hand through his greying hair.

He was right, of course; it was just a matter of time.

- - - - - A few weeks later:

"You can't stop this," she laughed madly, despite the situation.

Jasmine had the witch pinned down, a knife against her throat. "Take it back!" Jasmine screamed.

"You are never going to break this curse, Jasmine Irene Rhodes. At the next full moon you'll change into the opposite of what you are. No other can break this curse, no other witch can take it away, no deal with anyone can break it and I will not ever take it back. It will be with you until the day you die,"

The witch sighed as if a big burden had just been lifted off her shoulders, before she let her head thunk back against the floor.

"You're lying," Jasmine growled, pushing the knife harder into the flesh of her neck.

Witchy laughed again, the sound like a evil scientist, it echoed through out the empty house. "Look into my eyes and say that again." she stared, her eyes unblinking.

Jasmine's nostrils flared, holding back the urge to slice her throat - instead, she looked into those eyes, the eyes so dark that they looked black. They were hard, dead, no feeling what so ever. Witchy smiled than and I knew that my face had fallen. That she had won and Jasmine had lost.

The witchy started to mutter under her breath, in something that Jasmine didn't understand.

"Shut up," Jasmine told her, pushing on the knife harder. It dug into her flesh, drawing blood, but the witch didn't even flinch and continued to mutter in a strange language.

Jasmine had seen movies; enough to know that witches mutter in a strange language under their breath was never a good thing. She covered witches mouth, using her knees to pin her arms. But the withes mouth still move and her words were as clear as if her mouth were free. This freaked Jasmine out, and she punched her. The witch stopped, but Jasmine didn't think that it was from the punch. It was proved a minute later.

Everything was silent, everything was still. Suddenly, witchy's eyes rolled in to her head and she started to seize. It was so violent that she threw Jasmine of her with such force that she hit the desk that was behind her. Jasmine hit her head and everything went really bright and she closed her eye; trying to block it out. When the light no longer shinned through her eye lids, she cracked them open. Her eyes went instantly to where the witch was or used to be. There was no body there on the floor, instead there was a dark scorch mark.

Jasmine sat up, her hand going to the back of her head; probing. She found a small bump and quickly jerked her hand away when the touch killed. She'd take a few pills when she got back to the motel. She gave the scorch a wary look as she retrieved her knife from the floor.

Jasmine walked to the nearest bar and drank; shot after shot. She needed to get her head straight and knew that alcohol wouldn't help, but needing it after what had happened. And what the hell did happen? She asked herself.

She couldn't even be bothered with drudging up the details. She'd just been stupid and went in without Dean. Dean. Jasmine had totally, almost forgotten about Dean. What was she gonna tell him? She knew that she was going to get ripped a new one when Dean found out that she had went in alone, without back up.

She and Dean had been seeing each other for, like a week now. And everything was the same between them, but it was different some how. Not that she minded the different part, but some time she just forgot that they were together. They had always been close, closer than normal people, and this was just the same but with sex. Yet, it just seemed so normal and that was the reason she forgot. And she was happy. It's not like she wasn't happy before, but now she was just even happier.

So what was she supposed to say to Dean? Not just about her going in solo, but the fact that she had been cursed. Cursed with a curse that couldn't be broken or taken away? And she didn't have to go on a life long quest or something to figure out that it was an unbreakable curse, because she had seen the truth in that witches eyes. And no, the witch didn't pull one over on her - she knew that monsters did tell the truth, especially when it would hurt you the most.

And the witch knew that this would hurt Jasmine and so she told the truth. What was the truth? Jasmine had no idea. But what she did know was that what ever the curse was, it was going to affect her and Dean majorly. And what the hell was the opposite of her? What was the opposite of Jasmine? Not Jasmine? So, what was not-Jasmine?

Yep, she was totally drunk and should probably go back to the motel before Dean had a freak out. So what was she supposed to tell Dean again? She couldn't remember. She just tell him in the morning.

She stumble into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She flopped down face first into the nearest bed, Dean's bed. So she actually landed on top of Dean, who had been sitting on the bed, pinning him under her. Dean tried to roll her off, but she was dead weight so he gave up; letting her lay on top of him.

Jasmine buried her face in his neck, basking in the smell of him. Dean could smell her too, pretty clearly. Drunk, he knew and sighed because of it. He knew Jaz never drank. There were happy drunks, stupid drunks and love drunks and than there was Jasmine when she was drunk. Which was depressed. So he knew that when she was drank it was because she herself was depressed about something and being drunk seemed to help her get over faster.

"Jaz?" he tried, rubbing her back in a soothing manner. "What's up?"

"Hmm," was all she said in return.

She licked her lips than, Dean knew because he could feel the tip of her tongue brush against the sensitive skin of his neck. A second later she licked her lips again, using it as an excuse to lick Dean's neck. She remembered what his skin looked like when he was bathed in the moon light. Moon light. Why did that tug something in her brain? Moon, moon, moon, moon moon moon moon. Moon light. Moon bright. Full moon!

"When's the next full moon?" she asked, her words mumbled into his neck.

"What?" Dean asked, not understanding a word that just came out of her mouth.

Giving a groan, she pushed up. Not having the energy or feeling to drunk to hold herself up properly, she laid her face on Dean's face.

"Next full moon, when?" she grumbled out, not wanting to use so many words now.

"Uh, two days." Dean said, thinking about it.

But he didn't have time to ask why, because Jasmine was already snoring against his face.

note: I know that this wasn't the best of chapters, but I hoped you liked it anyway; please review.