The water cascades out of the shower head. Mai doesn't want to get out. The steam fogs around her, making the air thick like a blanket that blocks out cold chills. She sits in the fetal position on the shower floor accepting the hot water that trickles over her. Last night was a mortifying experience. She picked a fight, a pointless fight, he took her down instantly, and she started to bawl.

Idiot, idiot, idiot…

She doesn't want to go to school in the cold, or get out of the warm shower, or face Jett this morning, or do anything. The thought of having to do things makes her cringe. She wonders the time. In her head, she sorts out what she can sacrifice today for more time in the shower. Makeup isn't that important, and breakfast is optional. Her steam time is cut short by an abrupt change in the water temperature. Either she's run out all the hot water, or the pipe burst again. Praying for the former, she pulls the handle down to turn it off. A sting of curses run through her head.

Mai steps out and dried herself off. The bathroom is still comfortably steamy. With most of the showering spent curled on the floor, Mai's legs lacked shaving, but being winter it's not as problematic. She continues on with the rest of her morning routine; brush teeth, dry hair, no makeup, but she picks up her book bag and a thick cardigan sweater from her room. Mai just needs to grab some coffee for the road, lace herself into her boots, and she ready to go.

Jett is sitting at the table when her feet reach the ground floor. He holds his sugar-filled coffee-milk in hand and takes a sip as she walks through the doorway.

Take a breath, pretend it didn't happen. Oh please don't bring it up dude…

She gives a short calming breath through her nose and nods to him. Her "'Morning" is short but polite. He does the same; nods, returning her greeting. In times like these Mai finds it best to busy herself. Left foot and right foot are forced by her brain away from the doorway. Procuring coffee is a good task to fill the time until she's ready to leave. She searches the cupboard for a suitable travel mug, making sure to avoid looking at him. Fear of eye contact makes her stare blankly at the coffee pot.

Although, this experience isn't half as horrifying as she had envisioned it being in the shower. It's actually an almost comfortable silence, like most mornings with him here. She thinks maybe she can escape without last night being brought up. 'Escaping' meaning, going into the near freezing temperatures and walking quarter of a mile along a snowy highway, to sit at school for seven or so hours. Maybe, just maybe she can choose on hell over the other. With the way he isn't talking, maybe he won't bring it up at all. Maybe he already can read that it's an unspoken quondam encounter, Maybe…

"How are you feeling today?"

Shit…

Mai cringes.

So much for 'unspoken quondam encounter'.

Mai shuffles over responses in her head. Most of her energy had been on figuring out how to avoid this conversation or simply dreading the idea of it. She's yet to give thought on confrontation and her approach to that. Mai refuses to play Doctor Phil with this guy; she doesn't even play Doctor Phil with Uncle Sammy. She pours some coffee into the mug in her hand and turns around. Leaning against the counter, she wonders if she can evade the conversation still.

"I'm fine."

"…You sure?" He doesn't turn around to face her. Mai is equally relieved and disappointed.

"Well, I'm not looking forward to going to school." She only slightly jokes, attempting a switch in topics.

Please talk about the weather. That agitating 'nothing to talk about so let's complain about the cold' small talk would be perfect right now.

Instead, there is a pregnant pause in the conversation. Jett continues staring at the bathroom door in front of him. Mai studies him from behind. He seems relaxed, arm still slung, hair a bit messy. He's dressed; dark jeans, black tee shirt with a grey thermal underneath, thick socks. Finally his shoulder tenses as he picks up his coffee.

"Don't go then." he takes a sip.

"What?" She laughs a little. Jett turns in his seat with a face that is dead serious.

"Don't go to school. Stay here today."

"But I have to go to school."

"Why?"

"It's school." She stresses the obvious point.

"Do you have a test?"

"Well, no, not today-"

"Then stay home. Play hooky."

Mai stares at him; squinting her eyes, biting the inside of her lip, giving it serious thought. She wavers what Sam and Dean's reactions would be if they found out she skipped school.

Uncle Sammy would get pissy. I could bet money Dean wouldn't care… He'd have to care to get mad. Dean's a dick.
Why does this matter? It's one hell or the other; out there with the school or in here with this boy… It actually hasn't been that bad I guess. School really sucks, the cold really sucks, I complain about the cold too much. I'm not a person for cold though! I just want sunshine again…
Off topic! Do I stay or do I go? That's a song… It's still the question of the day.
Jett probably won't mention last night again. He already kinda brought it up. We can just drop it now. The worst is over right? My uncles? I can handle Sammy, and Dean's a dick so I really don't care. When he cares, I'll care.

"Okay. …Yeah, I'm staying home today." She finally lets out.

"That's the spirit." Jett nods with a smile.

Mai drops her book bag to the floor in front of the stove. Breakfast is no longer optional, it's now a requirement. There's not much in the fridge; meaning a slice of cheese and some left over taco meat. She closes the door, taking a seat next to Jett at the kitchen table. Black coffee in her travel mug steams up. At least there's some liquid caffeine to perk the start of her day. But with the first sip she scowls.

"What is wrong with the coffee?" She sticks out her tongue. Jett shrugs.

"We're out of beans so I had to re-heat and re-brew yesterday's leftover grounds." Jett states taking another drink, "You get used to it."

Mai shakes her head at him.

Not today, no more gross coffee or stale cheerios and taco meat breakfast.

She takes the white ceramic mug out of his hand, pouring its contents down the sink.

"Hey! I was drinking that."

"We're going to get a real breakfast." She states walking out the room, "Grab your keys, I'll drive."

The waitress at Waffle King pops her bubble gum.

"Do you want to hear the specials this morning?" She asks directly to Jett.

He smiles a smooth charm-filled smile Mai has never seen before. It seems very 'Dean-like' to her, although more honest in nature. All the grins she's seen her uncle pull on women have been a devilish sort of charming. Jett's is sly of course, but it almost feels innocently flirtatious. Both devilish and innocent forms of charming seem dangerously playful to her. But what does she know? No one has every shot her a charming smile of either sort.

"I think we're good, if you could give us a minute though. Thanks." Jett replies.

"Sure thing." her hips pop as she walks away, clearly dancing to whatever music is rolling through the headphone Mai noticed tucked into her left ear.

Mai tilts her head, watching the girl walk back into the kitchen. She intrigues Mai. With her bright fake orange hair pulled into a ponytail, a few studs pierced into her cartilage, dark wash ripped jeans, and cherry red lipstick that compliments her pale skin. Her uniform tee is chopped and tied up the sides. Mai has been admiring her style since she was hired a few years ago and likes to see what color the waitress's hair is every time she drops in.

Jett notices that his breakfast partner is distracted. He follows her gaze to see their waitress working at another table.

"Is she your type?" He asks in all seriousness.

"I like her hair." Mai answers unthinkingly, still admiring the edgy confidence the girl has.

"So, she's your type." Jett's tone is suggestive, but his face stays blunt. Mai returns her attention to their table and replaying his words in her head puts two and two together.

"Oh! No, I like guys…"

"Oh" Is his only reply. She again can't read his expression.

Is that relief? Maybe unbelief? Is he just mocking me?

Mai decides that she really sucks at reading people. She takes a sip of her coffee and focuses on the menu even though her order is already decided upon.

The diner is one Mai comes to often after school or with her uncles. Lines of pleather booths sit under the windows while square tables take up the interior of the space. By the door is an arrangement of fake ferns that Mai doesn't believe have ever been dusted. The counter and table tops are patterned with small green, cream, and grey boomerang shapes interlaced together. The awful avocado and grey color scheme gives Mai a wave of nostalgia. If the building had any other décor it wouldn't have been Waffle King to her. This morning a scruffy older gentleman sits at the counter and a few other patrons occupy various tables, but it's not particularly busy.

Outside it is snowing… again. Mai peers through the window for a moment. An old station wagon rolls down Main Street with the tail pipe streaming exhaust behind it. A couple bundled up in business attire, walk the sidewalk with heads hung to avoid the wind. If she cranes her neck, she can see the large clock of the courthouse. She thinks to herself that this is entirely too small of a town.

"So you like her hair?" Jett makes conversation. Mai turn her head from across the booth.

"Yes." She looks down again at the menu.

She doesn't feel compelled to make conversation and would still like to avoid it at all costs. Last night's embarrassment settles fresh in her gut. Also, without conversation, Mai doesn't have to run the risk of him returning to the conversation he started earlier. The one that she so desperately prays was taken care of back at the house. They are having breakfast because the fridge is empty; it's not a social call to her, or a forum for buried emotions she refuses to acknowledge. But Jett frowns at her as she's not looking. He sets down his own menu, leaning in over the table, and clears his throat. Mai slowly lifts her head to find the boy much closer than before.

"Are we cool yet?" He asks.

What the hell?

"What are you talking about?"

Jett sighs sharply,

"Are we cool? Are we past this whole 'stranger that will kill me in my sleep so let's be on edge all the time and avoid conversation' thing you've been playing since we met?"

Mai scowls at him. Is he asking for trust? She can't do that, she knows better than to trust him. Dean wouldn't trust him. Dean's also an ass hole today, but Jett could very well still kill her despite everything that's happened. With her being so off her game last night, Mai figures she's only managed to make herself appear feeble and defenseless. She picked a fight and he took her down instantly with one arm. She needs to keep her guard up, right?

"Can we just not be at odds? Because I think we can be valuable to each other." He doesn't even blink.

Mai still doesn't understand what he's getting at and his wide-eyed stare makes her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

Why the hell would I choose to get attached to you?

"Valuable how?"

"Like friends."

"Excuse me?" She chokes.

"I've been watching you this week Miss Mai and I realized that you and I are not so different."

"Pardon?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't have many friends, if any. You don't do anything in your house except take care of it and do research. School bores you and you don't have a car."

She can't deny anything he has just said as it's all true.

"So?"

"So, I don't want to be at odds with you. I swear, I am human and I'm not going to hurt you." His eyes are honest, Mai can read that much.

"I am not afraid of you."

I'm apprehensive of your presence there's a difference. …Right?

"I want to be your friend Mai." He repeats.

"But-"

"So are we ready to order?" Orange Hair waitress interrupts them. She throws a flirtatious smirk in Jett's direction. He glances up sideways at her and cocks a charming one of his own. Then he nods to Mai.

"Miss Mai?"

"I'll have the special." Mai says handing Orange Hair her menu, "Eggs over easy, corn beef hash, rye toast, sausage links, waffle, and a cup of fruit please." She orders in one breath.

"Impressive." The waitress gawks; Mai simply blinks at her and lends a polite nod.

"And for you?" Orange Hair turns to Jett. He looks over the menu one last time, stumbling for his order.

"I, uh… I'll have the short stack and a side of bacon? Please." He hands over his menu with another smile, giving a hefty amount of eye contact.

Maybe she's your type.

Orange Hair walks away with a wink that Jett doesn't notice. Instead he returns to their previous conversation immediately.

"So are we cool?" he pours himself more coffee from the carafe.

"I don't know you. We have no real history other than this week and one night a few months ago."

"You opened your doors to me to let me live in your house for the past five days. I was more of a stranger when we met." His point is hard to debate.

"And…" He lowers his voice, "there's last night… I don't take you as the freely crying to acquaintances type..." Mai can't breathe at the mention of her sob fest. She's almost certain that her face matches the bright red of Orange Hair's lipstick.

She darts her eyes anywhere but at the boy across from her and sinks into her seat. If ever a time to die of embarrassment came, she feels like this would be it. Jett reads her body langue and stares down into his coffee. After a heavily awkward silence he finishes what he was getting at.

"Anyway, don't tell me that there isn't something here, that we can't be friends."

Mai stares through the window again, trying to conjure an argument to counter with. She tries to find some sort of word to say to him, tires to push out of her mind the unrelenting fact that Jett clearly remembers last night, tries to breathe and turn her face back to its normal color. Jett waits patiently for her reply; the hand of his good arm wrapped around his white ceramic mug. After a few moments without any reaction from his peer he speaks again.

"Like I said before, I think we can be valuable to each other."

She turns back to him tentatively.

"How?"

She searches his face for something, anything, and nothing because she doesn't know what she's looking for. He sighs, looks her in the eye like he has most of the conversation and when he answers his voice feels reassuring.

"…You'll see."

She wants to deny the points he's made, but they're all valid. Something is here. Something that makes her contradict her instincts, break the common rules, shelter him, care for him, make him her problem, and most of all avoid telling her uncles. She's never been this reckless. She's never broken down her walls enough to cry in front of someone. This slim boy in front of her, with gentle blue green eyes. This broken boy with his arm in a sling and face still marked from his stitches. This boy who has never hurt her, never proven to be anything chthonic, he wants to be her friend. He says they can be 'valuable to each other'.

What would being 'friends' even include? Would that mean he'd pop by like our other hunter friends do? Would I have to introduce him to Sam and Dean? That sounds less than pleasant…

"Fine."

Jett's eyes light up a bit.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

Mai rolls her eyes.

"It's a 'yes'." She fiddles with the zipper on her jacket, a pit growing in her stomach.

"Yes, we can be friends?"

He's really pushing it.

"Yes, we can be friends." She says through slightly grit teeth.

"Good." He leans back in the booth and pours another packet of sugar into his coffee.

"Should we get to know each other?" Mai asks from her side of the couch.

Jett made a fire when they returned from breakfast despite Mai's assurance that she could build one. He said he 'wanted to'. She stood aside and watched him stack the logs and adjust the kindling with one arm. It was a little impressive to her, although Mai would never admit that. She mentally called him a 'show-off' and wished he would let her take care of these things. It's her house, he's her guest; she doesn't need him to take care of her.

"Okay… What do you want to know?" He looks her in the eyes.

More eye contact… It makes her uncomfortable for reasons she doesn't understand. She tries to procure a question, racking her brain for anything she wants to know about the young hunter.

"Have you ever had a home? Or has it always been hunting?"

"I had a home, but it burned down. A completely civilian electrical fire. We lived in an RV for a long time until I went to live with my grandpa when I was… eight, I think? He got me into hunting. Well, dragged me into hunting..." His voice trails off, "What about you?"

Mai feels unsure still about talking over her past with him.

"You're not allowed to ask me a question that you won't answer yourself." Jett states as if reading her mind. Mai freezes.

Oh god, please don't be a physic!

"Well…It was me and my mom in an apartment until she died. Then my uncles found me and I didn't have anyone else so we all moved here …Until about a little over a year ago they didn't really hunt at all anymore."

Jett nods and Mai closes her eyes for a second. Talking about her family to an outsider is a first.

"You like music?" Ready to change the topic, Mai walks over to the bookshelf behind them.

"I do." He rests his good arm over the back of the couch and turns his head around watching her.

Mai sifts through the stack of CDs that she's collected over the years.

"What kind of music do you like?" She keeps searching for the album on her mind.

"I don't know. A little of everything I guess."

"Here." She pulls a worn and cracked case out from under twenty some other CDs, "You like The Flaming Starfish?"

"Never heard of them." He shrugs.

"Listen." She sets the disc into a stereo system.

After adjusting the knobs and buttons, music starts to slip out of the speakers smoothly. Falling back into her seat, she closes her eyes, absorbing the sounds, tapping her fingers to the beat, mouthing the lyrics that she knows by heart. It's her favorite album. For the first five songs neither of them speak, just listen.

"This was my first CD." She says eyes still closed, "Some kid at school in seventh grade was taking requests for albums. He'd download them online for people. I just told him to make me a mix and he brought back this." Mai's lips mouth another line of lyrics before she continues, "I've played it... probably a hundred times since then." Another fun fact she's yet to share with anyone.

"I like it."

Mai peeks open her eyes. Jett sits much closer to her on the couch than before.

"Yeah." She readjusts herself.

Jett looks in her eyes with the gentle expression he's always sending her. Pushing away the discomfort that makes her blush under his gaze, her thoughts trickle to her family. It's the big problem that's been harboring in the back of her mind since she agreed to his camaraderie this morning.

"My family can't know about you." She addresses.

"What do you mean?"

This boy isn't something she is ready to give over to her uncles. Jett is hers, her problem, her guest, her secret, and she likes it that way. For the first time in her life she's calling the shots. This is something of her own, something that she doesn't want scrutinized and taken away from her. She wants to control this friendship, she wants to play adult and have a guest of her own, she wants to hold onto this freedom. She's in too deep to let her uncles know about him now anyway.

"You can't come back here when they are home. And you can't tell Bobby that we know each other." She bites the inside of her mouth. These precautions are embarrassing.

"I'm allowed to come back?" He raises an eyebrow with a smile. She rolls her eyes.

"'Friends' right?"

"Yeah… any particular reason you're ashamed to be seen with me?" His voice is mostly sarcastic, but she knows there's always a little truth in sarcasm.

"I'm not ashamed of you, it's just… My family… They don't know you. And they'll be bitches about this, and it'll get weird, and…"

"You don't want that?" He interjects.

"This is messy," she states, dodging admittance of wanting this friendship. Jett purses his lips thoughtfully, looking over Mai's face.

"Okay," He says finally, "We're a secret."

"You don't have to say it like that." Mai mutters guiltily.

"I don't care how you want to play this game, house rules are fine." Jett shrugs.

Mai looks down at his feet, black Converse high tops as always. Sam and Dean's friend Garth hunts in Converse too, although when Jett wears them they look more rebellious. Jett looks rebellious she realizes. The rugged features, the disheveled hair, the dark clothing. He's a sketchy character on the outside, but his kicked-puppy eyes and soft demeanor give him away. Maybe that's why she's let him stay, why she wants to be friends. Past the harsh shell his job has produced, she sees the little kid. Past the hunter reflexes and the stiff expressions and the 'manliness', she sees someone who needs someone. He needs someone, and she can fix that.

"Can I ask you something?"

Jett nods. Mai hesitates a second.

"Why do you want to be friends with me?"

Jett looks down at his lap. She worries about what his answer will be, maybe she doesn't want to know. It's a curiosity though, does he simply need her? Is there something about her he actually enjoys being around? She can't imagine any reason for him to want to continue communication with her after he leaves. Sure she's played hostess and nurse for him a little, but she's also been moody, cold, and borderline bitchy the entire time.

After a few moments Jett finally lifts his head. She braces herself for his response, not knowing what to expect. Jett simply produces one of those charming smiles he'd flashed the waitress, as if it's nothing and says,

"Because I like you Miss Mai."

A/N: Going to be out tomorrow so you get this chapter a day early. I wasn't really in love with it, but while proof reading I ended up adding close to a thousand more words and then BLAM! It satisfied me. That's also how it became the longest chapter to date. But I'm liking the longer chapters; you can expect them to be larger from this moment on. I have a lot of story to get through still. Chapter 11 is only just dipping it's toe into the ocean of my plot.

Also the Flaming Starfish are not an actual band to my knowledge. If you're wondering what they sound like, it's open ended to the reader. (Although I personally think they'd be kinda like a mix of The Kooks and Nirvana. Weird, I know.) Imagine your favorite genre and you got the Flaming Starfish.

And never fear my peeps, I will be bringing in more of our dearest favorite cannon characters in further chapters. I know these past few have been heavily OC, but it's all part of the bigger picture here. This is a Supernatural fic though, so I'm not going to jip you guys of the wonderful characters we've all come to know and love.

Finally, don't make me gravel and beg for reviews, it's demeaning and makes me feel all needy. (oh wait... I am needy for reviews...)
Just drop me a line and tell me how I'm doing, what questions you want answered, characters your excited to see next. Good, bad? I want it all. Don't hold back, I feed off of constructive criticism.

I always tell myself I'm not going to leave a long love letter of authors notes... I have no self control.