A/N: I'd like to give a thank you to my first follower (LeahSalvatore01). It's rather encouraging to see that someone wants to read my story/procrastination tool. (I should be working on school…)

I apologize that this chapter is so short. When I first started writing I didn't separate out chapters very well and they ended up very long, so I chopped them at the convenient points. I have a few chapters written out and ready to go. They will be longer! I'm currently writing chapter nine.

I'll try to publish on a weekly basis of Tuesdays. (Because, you know)

And fair warning, I have very limited medical knowledge but I did some Googleing!

Read up.

Jett sits to the left of her at the kitchen table. Alcohol and bandages are spread out over the table as Mai works on his face. She repositions the nose, which is not quite as broken as they both originally thought and cleans the blood off his face with a wet cloth.

"So Bobby said I could help?" Mai asks without looking up from his nose.

"Yeah, there's a djinn two towns over." Jett's voice is awkward as he tries not to breathe out of his nose, "lamb's blood, you have any?"

Mai leans in closer and pulls the broken skin on his nose together with a butterfly bandage. He smells a bit like cigars masked with a fresh linen fragrance. He must be wearing fresh clothes, fresh enough that the detergent hadn't worn off, so he couldn't have been hunting before he came here. There is something else too, although very subtle. Mai knows it to be Amber, that warm, resinous scent that produces a faint prickle at the back of the nose. It's a commonly used base for cologne. Mai leans back in her seat and hands him a fresh cloth for him to finish cleaning up.

"I think Dean has some in the study, I can get some for you." She says.

Jett heaves himself from his chair and walks over to the kitchen sink, wetting the cloth. He begins to wipe down his neck and hands. Mai notices his physique is different than most hunters. His muscles are toned, but he is still rather slim. He's about five foot eleven she guesses, with room to grow. He wears dark skinny jeans and a grey long sleeve shirt. Mai wonders how he can hunt in those pants, they have to be uncomfortable to fight and run in. But then again, he probably hasn't been hunting in that outfit based on its fresh scent. She reminds herself that she's perceptive, not creepy, for observing people's smells.

"I would appreciate that, thank you." Jett responds.

Mai slips through the bathroom and living room and walks down a hall. She passes Dean's closed bedroom door. Making a left at the corner and goes into the study. It's a shared space between Dean and Sam with two desks, walls lined entirely with bookshelves, and lots of books. Books are everywhere; on the floor, half shoved on the shelves, papers sprawled out over the desks, books open with notes in them, books stacked on the chairs. They litter the entire room. Mai tip-toes over the leather-bound piles of information. In Dean's desk drawer she finds a vial of blood; sticky, putrid smelling lambs blood.

She sets the vial on the table upon reentering the kitchen. Jett nods in thanks, finishing up at the sink. He is less than talkative with her. He wrings out excess water from the now bloodstained cloth and places it in the sink. More silence passes, with Mai leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom and Jett standing across the room from her with his hands pockets. It doesn't appear that Jett will be first to initiate conversation. Mai doesn't mind his remoteness, but she breaks the quite streak after a few minutes.

"Would you like to rest here for the night? I was planning on making some dinner before our encounter." She had not given dinner any previous thought, "The guest bedroom upstairs is made up. It's no inconvenience."

Mai tugs at a string on the gigantic flannel after combing her dusty blonde hair out of her face. She was right. It isn't any inconvenience; she's always housing hunter friends that stop by. Even though Jett isn't kith, she feels compelled to offer him a decent bed and a proper meal. It's the least she can do after bashing his nose in. She is still equal parts guilty and impressed with herself for that feat.

Jett, who has been rather stoic and reserved since their face to face, softens for a moment. He looks down at the floor, the corners of his mouth twitch into a tiny, sad smile.

"I can't stay the night but thank you." He leans against the sink and returns to his passive state, now crossing his arms over his chest.

"What about something to eat?" Mai gives the string a tug and snaps if from the flannel. She begins to roll it into a ball in between her forefinger and thumb. Jett shakes his head and give a little shrug.

"No, thank you."

"Is there anything I can get you?" Hostess Mai offers. Jett thinks for a moment.

"Would it be okay if I stay here for a little bit? For a few hours tops, just to sit for a while?"

"Sure, if you don't need anything else…"

"Thank you." Jett says, "Would you like me to fix that fire in the other room? It's burned down quite a bit."

Mai nods and thanks him. He heads towards the entranceway, taking the hall down to the living room before Mai hears wood being shifted from the rack to the fireplace. She closes her eyes, still leaning against the doorframe, breathing out an exhausted sigh. Pushing herself towards the table, she cleans up the medical supplies, and then joins him in the fire-lit room. The couch absorbs her as she sits down in front of the heat source. Nothing is to be heard but the crackle of burning logs and the occasional distant car off the highway.

Jett sits on the edge of one of the large plush chairs. He stares at the fireplace without really looking at it. Mai stares at Jett; really looking at the boy. Looking at the bruises starting to form around his nose. Looking at his dark brown unruly hair that's cut shorter on the sides but then long enough to fall close to his eyebrows. Looking at his jaw which clicks as he grits his teeth. Looking at his hands that are clasped together on his knees. Looking at his shoes which are a pair of black Converse high tops. Looking at him, thinking that he does not fit the bill for most hot shot hunter boys. He's a hunter for sure, and not someone you would want to fight in a dark alley, but he's somehow different.

They sit there and listen to the fire for a couple hours. The only movements made are by Jett as he pokes at the fire to get it burning again. He's now comfortably lounging in the plush chair. Mai is curled up across the couch, no longer looking at Jett. She's focusing in and out on the fire. Her eyelids begin to droop, her breathing shallows, she fights to stay awake.

What's resting your eyes going to hurt? Your mind is still awake…

She loses the fight, slipping into sleep.