A/N: So I went for a longer chapter, and it took forever! But, here it is :) I own nothing, except Jane -sadly.
Playing House
"You're going to melt off your fingers if you don't start watching what you're doing, idjit."
Dean looked down and just barely managed to avert casting liquid metal over his left hand. "Damn…" He flashed Bobby a sheepish smile. "My bad."
"Uh huh." Grunting, Bobby shifted in his chair in order to see what had Dean's attention. He shook his head. "Really, son?"
"What?"
"You've been here for two weeks, ain't you gotten enough?"
"Bobby," Dean looked hurt. "I've been helping you fix the colt… and looking for omens, and letting Sam enjoy some research."
"And harassing Jane whenever you get half a chance." Bobby shook his head again, returning to the task at hand: trying to figure out how this damn gun worked. Well, he knew how it worked, just like any other gun. He wanted to know what damn magic was needed to get it back into demon killing shape. "You need to let that girl alone Dean. There ain't no point in dragging this on between you two, not when you're so eager to go to the basement."
"I'm not dragging anything on." He wasn't look at Bobby, focusing now on melting metal to cast bullets. "She knows the score."
"Does she?"
"Mind your own business, Bobby."
"Sam, take a break." Jane ordered, putting her hand on the page Sam was trying to read and merely gave him a sweet smile when he glowered up at her. When he was sitting in a chair at the table, it was pretty hard to be intimidated. "You're going to read yourself cross-eyed."
"That doesn't really happen." He grumbled, closing the book and setting it aside. "Can I at least use the laptop, mom?"
She twisted a dishtowel and then snapped it at him. "I suppose… if you must."
"Don't you ever get tired of doing dishes?" He asked, pushing away from the table to go dry for her, the laptop not sounding all that appealing either. He doubted he was going to find what he needed on a chat forum.
"The way Dean and you eat? Damn right I do." She glanced up at him, offering another smile. "Find anything?"
"Nothing promising."
"You will."
"Aw, look at you two, so domesticated."
Jane and Sam both looked over their shoulders, identical eye rolls, and turned back.
"See what I mean? You're so in sync." Dean chuckled, walking over to pat Sam on the shoulder. "Step off and let daddy talk to mommy."
"Dude… there is something seriously wrong with you." Sam sometimes had to wonder if Dean had been dropped on his head and now was one of those times.
"Beat it junior, the grown-ups are about to be busy."
Jane took that as her cue to sidle away before she could get pinned, turning when she was out of reach and extended her soapy hands to ward him off. "Nuh uh, I'm busy. Go help Bobbie."
"I can't, he told me to get lost."
"Staring at my ass again, weren't you?"
"Sweetheart, I don't think I ever stopped." He remembered when he had first met her, and that shapeless gray uniform she had worn. Now that had been the most misleading outfit of all time. While tall, thin and somewhat lanky, she still had an ass on her that made him want to do things Sammy was tired of hearing about.
Honestly, he had been distracted just by watching her. She had been flitting around the kitchen and he could smell whatever she had in the oven, it smelled delicious. She was going to ruin diner food for him if she kept up with this Betty Crocker gig. It was easy to watch her do this thing, act like this was her kitchen, and feel like maybe, just maybe, he was missing out on something.
He had a wife. Granted, it wasn't ideal. She had been prepared to divorce him and it bothered Dean more than he would admit that she would probably finish said divorce when she was able to return to a semblance of her life. Her life without him. And then there was the fact that he had less than a year to live.
Well… that was plenty of time for him to play house.
"Oh dear God…"
"You know, we're going to have to start springing for separate rooms because I am not dealing with…" Sam gritted his teeth, able to see Dean's shit eating grin quite clearly thanks to the mirrors that made up their hotel room ceiling. "No, just no."
"C'mon guys, this is great!" Dean surveyed the two beds, finally dropping his bag down on the one he decided he wanted. "Mirrors, beds…mirrors." He grinned up at himself.
"This is ridiculous Dean." Jane had nothing against Sam, but there was no way she could share a room with both brothers. She did like Sam, really, but Dean was… a pervert and was very likely to keep attempting to get laid while Sam 'slept'. She highly doubted Sam did a lot of sleeping when she joined them because he was worried about waking up and seeing some awkward things. Hell, she was worried about seeing some awkward things. "Either we figure out new arrangements-"
He arched an eyebrow.
"Or…" Her lips curved up into a smile. "We invite your brother into our bed."
"Sammy, I'll go see if I can't find us a room next door. Or better yet, something that's adjacent."
Sam looked torn between amusement and worry, having not taken the 'threat' as seriously as Dean obviously had. Jane liked him a friend and semi-brother-in-law, since neither of them were certain of the marriage status at this point in time. "What about the cost?"
Dean pursed his lips, thinking about it for a second and then grinned. "Looks like little Janey is about to start financially contributing."
It took her a moment to process that and she shook her head. "No, hell no, Dean that is-"
"I'll take care of it, don't you worry." He was already walking out of the room, whistling.
"Shit…"
"It's taking him long enough…"
Sam was leaning in the open door, staring down the hallway. "Yeah, it is."
"Think he's in trouble?"
"You really do not want to know what I think, Jane." He spared her a quick look. "It's Dean."
"Point taken." She walked over to stand by him, poking her head past him. "How're you holding up?"
His shoulders dropped for a second. "I've been better."
"You know it's not your fault, right?"
"Jane, he's going to die in less than a year because he made a deal, because of me. Please explain how that is not my fault?"
"It's Dean."
Now it was his lips twitching into something that might've been mistaken for a smile. Before he could give a rebuttal the door across the hallway opened and Dean rounded the corner.
"Richie, I don't believe it…"
Sam and Jane exchanged looks, shrugging.
"Hey, Dean… Winchester, right?"
Jane's nose wrinkled a woman who was taller than her and definitely wearing less than her appeared behind Richie. She felt… plain, but not whorish. That was a perk. She was going to slap Dean if his eyes didn't go back in skull.
Sam seemed to pick up on that because he cleared his throat, drawing Dean's attention to him and off the leggy piece who was not Richie's sister, or step-sister, no matter what the guy insisted.
Jane folded her arms over her chest, frowning when Dean looked at her.
"What?"
Trotter's looked like pretty much every other bar Jane had ever been in. She had worked in a damn bar, she didn't like bars. The only thing they were good for were… no, nothing. She preferred drinking at home, where it was cheaper and nobody watered down her liquor.
She spared a glance at Dean, who was speaking with Richie, and then to Sam, who was surveying the locals. Her gaze drifted to the woman behind the bar, not overly surprised when she heard Dean mentioned investigating with the bartender.
"Come on Jane, I'll show you how to earn some cash." Sam said, taking her by the hand and leaving Dean to it. "Doesn't it bother you?"
"That he flirts with anything that walks and talks?" She stuck close to him, feeling a familiar tugging beginning in the pit of her gut. "Only if it goes beyond flirting, then I might send him to the basement ahead of schedule."
He snorted, taking in the pool tables. "You know how to play?"
She cocked an eyebrow, realizing what he had meant by 'earning cash'. "Hustling? Really?"
He shrugged. "I don't particularly like it, but sometimes… you know, gotta eat."
Jane had stopped paying attention to him. She was now focusing on a man that was making the Knowing practically kill her head. "Sam, he has a gun." She whispered.
Sam bent down so he could hear her, eyes widening when she repeated herself. "Dean!"
At the same time he had shouted that, the man had discharged his weapon. A moment later he had been tackled to the floor and splashed with holy water. Dean, Sam and Jane stared at the guy and waited. Nothing.
"That bastard slept with my wife!"
Ah… this might have just been good old fashioned vengeance and Jane cleared her throat. "Someone call 9-1-1!"
Alright, maybe it was a town full of scumbags.
"Were they there?"
"Nope."
Jane sighed into the cell, trying to ignore the fact that her "husband" had gone off with the bartender –smokin' hot chick by the name of Casey- and left her in their hotel room to do 'research'. "Find anything?"
"Yeah, sulfur."
"Oh great… Want me to call Bobby?"
"No, I already tried, he's not answering. Look, I'm going to go with the, uh, Father, to see if we can't find Dean."
"Do you want me to come?"
"No. Stay there. Now that we know for sure there's a demon in town, everything it's done here is… well, just stay there, okay?"
"Sam, I-"
"I got to go, Jane. Stay there."
She pulled the phone from her ear when she heard the call end and scoffed. "Not likely."
"Sammy, be careful."
Well that never boded well for him and Sam felt a bit like an idiot as he turned towards Father Gil. Somehow, it wasn't all that surprising that the good 'father' was a demon, who wasn't these days? He flinched when there was a shot, looking down at his gun. He hadn't fired.
It was Bobby, but he didn't really have time to digest that, or the fact that Jane was right behind the older man, because Bobby was suddenly flung aside and Sam was flying backwards. It was the crunch under him that told him he had broken glass, and then the pain. He had hit the Impala's windshield.
"Oh no, honey," Gil rounded on Jane, blinking his black eyes wickedly and disarmed her before she could fire off a slug. "You're coming with me."
Dean was fully prepared to charge until he seen Jane tucked under Gil's arm like she weighed nothing. A priest possessed by a demon, how original. He went to; somehow, retrieve his wife when she was hurled at him. He sort of caught her, but they both went flying backwards, her landing on top of him. She weighed more than nothing.
Jane rolled off of him, groaning as she rubbed the back of her head and looked at the two demons who were now embracing, a broken devil's trap on the floor. The priest and trampy bartender… she was going to make Dean start screening his extra-marital affairs from here on out.
"You two?" Dean sounded vaguely repulsed as he got to his feet, helping her up as Gil made his reply.
"Leave him be."
Casey caught Jane's attention with that and she reached out in time to grab Gil's arm the moment his hand wrapped around Dean's throat, letting go when he flashed his eyes at her again. She would never get over how disturbing that was.
"Don't kill him. Just let him go."
And now she was pleading for Dean's life… what the hell?
"Please."
She spotted Sam coming and let out a sigh of relief, the relief intensifying when she seen what was in his hand. Preacher demon now.
"Sam, wait!"
"Shoot her!" Jane admittedly felt murderous at this point and was tempted to ask Sam to shoot his brother while he was at it.
Sam shot her.
"Jane!"
She whirled to face him, hands on her hips. "Let's get this straight right now Winchester, you can have my bed or a bunch of one nighters with random women but you sure as hell ain't getting both!"
"It wasn't like that!"
"The hell it wasn't!"
Sam excused himself.
"I'm going home." Bobby announced after his chat with Dean. Jane had come out to see him off, pointedly ignoring Dean's presence. "You wanna come with?"
"No. She's staying here." Dean answered for her. "With me."
Jane scoffed. "The hell I am. Give me a minute to get my things, Bobby." Still ignoring Dean, she turned and headed back inside.
"She's not going, Bobby. So you might as well leave now."
"Don't you order me around, boy. If she wants to leave, then she'll leave and you best mind your manners or I'll pound your thick skull in."
Dean wanted to shake her until she stopped, but managed to keep himself still. He watched as Jane gathered her stuff up from the bathroom counter, knowing ordering her around was going to make the already messed up situation worse. He was going to have to suck it up, apologize, and hope to God he remembered how to genuinely be nice to a woman who wasn't a passing good time or a part of a case. "Jane, please…"
She didn't even hesitate. "No."
"Janey, sweetheart, nothing happened."
"You were stuck with that devil bitch for how long?"
"Yeah stuck, trapped. I was going to exorcise her but…"He didn't really want to admit he had forgotten the words. "That didn't work out."
"Oh, I bet it didn't." She shoved past him violently. "Too busy with other things to send her packing?"
"No, I forgot the damn words, all right?" He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to turn and face him. "Jane, just… hear me out okay? Then if you want to go, you can go."
"One minute, Dean, make it fast."
There was no way everything he wanted to say was going to fit into a minute and Dean didn't even know how to begin. He let go of her in order to run a hand through his short hair, tugging at the ends. "I'm sorry, I really am, Jane. I'll stop, all right? I didn't… I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and I don't want to go to bed with anyone else, only you."
She eyed him skeptically. "And the flirting?"
"Woman, I'm only human."
"You want to skip out on all those beds for just the one?"
He nodded, seeing she was beginning to relax slightly. The anger was receding from her eyes but he could still see the hurt. It was going to take time for that to go away, he had really messed up. "Just the one."
"Last chance Dean, I know what we're doing is temporary but I'm not going to share you. If you're with me, you're with me and no one else. Can you handle that?" When he grinned at her, she took that as a yes and cursed herself for a fool. "Go tell Bobby."
He headed for the door, that familiar strut back in his stride.
"You might also want to get an extra pillow from the front desk."
"Why?"
"You're on the floor tonight, jackass."
