A/N: I don't own anything from the TV series Supernatural. I wish I owned Sam and Dean Winchester though. :) This story does include some spoilers if you haven't seen the most recent episodes. Please review! If you liked my story let me know. It might encourage me to write more. This is a one-shot right now. Maybe I'll change my mind and continue it later. Enjoy. (This used to include song lyrics but I took them out because of copyright.)

Closing time had finally come at the pub. A woman with wavy blond hair stood at the counter, leaning against it for support. It had been a long day. Not really out of the usual though, she thought. She had left her mother's house to fight all things evil. But now she spent most of her time working in this trashy bar. She took the towel she held in her hand and threw it to the ground.

She had thought about going back home, but had always rejected the thought, her stubborn pride keeping her from it.

"I'll be damned if I go back to my mother in defeat," she said to herself as she leaned against the bar. It wasn't easy being on her own. She didn't have much money, and hustling pool could only get one so far. It wasn't a secure career. She felt guilty for leaving her mother. Her mother had forbidden her from leaving home, but that had only pushed Jo to pack up and go. She was always told that she took after her father. If only he could see her today, picking up where he left off.

But that was never to be, because her father was not coming home. He had died on one of his hunting trips gone wrong. She didn't cry about it anymore, having cried all the tears she had to shed when she was young. Thinking of her father brought to mind the Winchester boys.

She hadn't been so removed from evil, really. It was not long ago that Sam Winchester showed up at the door of the bar in Duluth, Minnesota.

"That was quite the night," she said quietly to herself as she bent down to pick up the towel. Sam was possessed at the time. She hadn't known it at first, but it became clear once he tied her to a pole. At first he spoke emotionally to her, and then she asked him to leave. Jo was startled when he did not leave but instead came back and attacked her, knocking her out. When she woke up, he had a knife in his hand, waiting for his plan to unfold, knowing that Dean would come. That wasn't really Sam though. Sam Winchester was not the type to attack a fellow hunter.

Jo began to clean the bar with the towel. She had asked Dean if demons told the truth. There were certain details Sam had divulged about her father's death. Had John Winchester really killed her father in the end to put him out of his misery?. She also wondered, though if what Sam had said about how Dean felt was true. Did he really think she was a schoolgirl? She paused in her cleaning, and then began to angrily scrub at the bar, remembering Sam's words.

"Boy you're really carrying a torch for him aren't you? I'll take that as a yes. It's too bad. 'Cause see, Dean, he likes you- sure. But not in the way you want. I mean, maybe as kind of a …a …a little sister, you know, but romance? That's just out of the question. He kind of thinks you're a schoolgirl, you know? I'm not trying to hurt you, Jo, I …I'm just telling you 'cause I care."

She wasn't a schoolgirl. She managed to live on her own, hadn't she? In their last encounter, she had been the one to save Dean himself. Sam had shot him, and she'd found him out back, lying on the ground, having fallen into the water. She walked him back into the bar and cleaned his bullet wound for him, despite his protests. While she was patching him up, she broke the silence with a question.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I know demons lie, but do they ever tell the truth too?"

"Umm, umm yeah sometimes I guess, especially if they know it'll mess with your head. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. Doesn't matter."

And then after he'd told her that he was leaving to follow Sam, he had left. She'd offered to go with him, but he said no. He wouldn't let her help him, didn't want the blood on his hands. Dean had even threatened to tie her to the same post from which he had just released her. That was just how it was going to be. Then with an abrupt thanks he left her with the promise that he'd call her. She knew then that he wouldn't call. Still, she felt disappointed when she hadn't heard from him.

Why was it that he wouldn't let her help? He could hardly even look her in the eyes when he told her to stay. She knew he had been through hell with his father's death. Life was not normal for the Winchester boys. Their mother died, then their father. All they had was each other. She'd seen this when she ran away from home to work on the same case that they were working on, surprising them when they showed up and she was already there. When they'd been hunting together, she showed Dean that she was no coward. She could hold her own. Hell, she could even save Sam and Dean if she had to, but Dean wouldn't let her get that close.

Why do I even care about what Dean thinks? Left with these wonderings, she walked over to the dusty old radio and turned it on, hoping it would help distract her from thoughts of Sam and Dean Winchester. Returning to her work, she noticed that out front a car had pulled in. Another drunk looking for more beer. She shook her head. They'd get the picture when no one came to the door. Jo had seen enough drunken fools for one night. She had a lot more work to do, and the night was barely over. At least there was a good song on the radio. It was no REO Speedwagon, but it would keep her on her feet for a few more minutes.

Dean angrily slammed a tape into the cassette deck of the Impala. The head-banging music should have settled him, and would have had he not been in such a bad mood. If it weren't for Sammy, it could have been a promising night. A night of gambling and loose women might have been waiting for him.

Instead he had a fight with Sam that all but came to blows. Sam kept worrying about this destiny crap. Of course, Sam wouldn't go to the dark side. He wouldn't let that happen. There was no such thing as destiny. Sam made his own decisions. They were going to kill that yellow-eyed son of a bitch and be done with it. Dean had tried to change the subject, but Sam kept it up. He didn't need to be reminded of his promise to kill Sammy if it came down to it. He didn't intend to make that promise in the first place, and he didn't intend to keep it. Call him a selfish son of a bitch, but he wouldn't kill Sammy. He'd save him if it was the last thing he did.

So he left the hotel room, slamming the door behind him. He hoped that Sam wouldn't do something stupid. Then again, this was Sammy. He'd be in the room researching leads on his laptop. Dean shook his head and chuckled. That kid was far too green for his own good. Give him a few more years of hunting, and he'd change. The job did that to you.

But he left that all behind. No more tonight would he worry about yellow-eyed demons or guilt of his Dad's death, or the fear of being left alone in this world. All he needed was to find a good bar, and all his problems would be fixed, for that night anyway.

Just as Jo finished setting the tables back and cleaning the floors she heard the door open. It was late. Not too late in her mind for a few beers, but still, the place was closed. She had locked the door, she remembered, when she kicked the last stumbling customer out. Reaching under the counter, she grabbed her gun. Holding the pistol firmly in her grip, she was prepared to meet whoever was coming through the door.

Dean opened the door. As he turned around from shutting the door behind him, he noticed the gun was pointed right at him.

"Son of a…" he exclaimed as he quickly ducked out of sight so that the gun was no longer pointed at him. Dean could barely believe his luck. Couldn't he go one day without being shot at?

"Dean?" Jo asked, recognizing the intruder. "What are you doing here?"

"I came for a beer!" he shouted. Then as he came around the corner, "Is that how you treat all your customers or just me?" He paused. "Now, would you mind putting that down?" Jo could sense annoyance in his voice. She put the gun down on the counter. "I thought I locked that door," she mumbled as she turned around and grabbed two beers.

"You did," Dean said with a grin as he showed her the paperclip in his hand. "Always keep one of these handy. Never know when you might need to break into a bar."

"I've got to find another way to keep you Winchester boys out. I don't think I even need to remind you about the last time I was caught here unaware after closing. Tell me you aren't possessed," she said as she opened the beers in front of her. She motioned to the bottles. "Where is Sam anyway?"

"Uh, he was a little…shy to come back after that last time," he said with a grin and pulled both bottles toward him. One bottle of beer was good, but two…

"Not so fast," she said as she grabbed one and took a swig. "You didn't answer my question." She looked at him with a stubborn look in her eyes.

"Of course I'm not possessed. Does this look like a demon face to you?" he asked.

She ignored the question. "How'd that all turn out anyway? I never heard." Dean thought he sensed a little bitterness in her voice.

"Sammy's a boy again," he said with a laugh. "The demon's gone for now anyway. I doubt it was the last we'll see of it."

"And how's your shoulder?" she asked.

"Fine," he answered without even thanking her.

They stood there in awkward silence, sipping their beers. Dean scratched his head, wondering how much longer this would last before he got to drink his beer in peace. After several long minutes, Jo said, "You shouldn't be around here, you know. Hunters come here- hunters who are after Sam. They'd kill him if they had the chance."

"Well, I'd like to see them try," he said quietly, looking down at the gun on the counter. He'd taken on everything else that had tried to kill Sammy. He'd waste anyone else who tried.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Dean exhaled deeply, looking at the clock. "Well, look at that. Time just flies, doesn't it? I should really be going…"

"So what are you doing here, Dean?" she asked abruptly.

He looked up at her with surprise. "Isn't it clear? I'm here to have a beer. What's wrong with having a beer to top off the night?" He hoped he had diverted her attention with his question.

"Of all the bars in town, you came here? Is there something you wanted to say? I don't have a lot of time to be wasting it so that you can have your beer."

Dean had not seen this coming. He didn't want this awkward confrontation. He'd rather be shot in the first place. He wasn't about to have sharing time with Jo. She couldn't even handle all the crap he had to deal with.

"You don't have anything to say? No smart-ass comment? Come on, Dean. We both know you better than this."

Not really wanting to observe this further, Dean got up. "I'll be leaving now."

"Of course," Jo said quietly. "Of course you'd leave. Ignore the situation and hope it goes away, huh, Dean? Something confrontational comes and you leave like a coward."

Dean turned around angrily. "I've beaten more spirits and sons of bitches than you know! Don't go calling me a coward, Jo. I might just have to show you differently."

"Show me what?" she asked. "You come in here like you have the fate of the world on your shoulders, Dean. Like no one else has any problems. Well, you're not the only one who has had a bad day."

"What's your problem, Jo? Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? Maybe it's the physically demanding job of a bar-tender that's hurting you. Maybe you should go back home to your mother."

Jo looked at him, fury unleashed. "I'm not a schoolgirl, Dean. I can handle my own."

Dean observed the change in discussion. He didn't want this. He hadn't meant to make here mad. "Look, Jo, I never said you couldn't. I'm sure you can handle yourself."

"Then why don't you let me go with you?" she asked after a pause. "I could help, you know. I could help fight against whatever is after Sam."

"I'm sure you could, but Sam doesn't need another protector. He's fine. I'm taking care of him. Why don't you just leave this to the big boys, okay?"

Jo looked down at the bar, defeated. Again, he wouldn't let her help him. "What is it, Dean? Why was Sam possessed? What's after him? I've heard hunters talk. They said that Sam has been chosen for something. What aren't you telling me?" She made one last attempt to get the information out of him.

Dean paused and sighed quietly. So the news was getting out to everyone. He had hoped that he would have more time before the news of the yellow-eyed demon's interest had spread to all the hunters. It was only a matter of time before they faced another one who wanted to hunt Sam. "I wouldn't tell you even if I could." There was no need to worry her with the information. It'd all be over soon enough.

"This isn't only about you and Sam, Dean. This is about everyone. Everyone involved with this conflict needs to know. Something is coming. What is it?" She kept asking him, demanding that he tell her.

"You expect me to know? Look, all I can do right now is keep me and Sam safe. I don't know what it is. It's all news to me too." He offered up the words, hoping she'd believe them.

"You're lying," Jo said quietly. She had known Dean long enough to be able to tell when he was lying. He knew more than he let on. Dean wouldn't tell her what was going on. She knew something was wrong. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He was tense, couldn't look her in the eyes. She knew he put on a face with his snide comments. She felt sorry for him.

Dean stood still, knowing that she'd called his bluff. What was he supposed to do, tell her all that he knew? It was too complex to explain briefly anyway. He would keep her on a need-to-know basis. Dean had always gotten by on his own. This was no different.

Jo didn't know what came over her. She guessed she was moved to pity Dean and the hard life he'd been given. "Well, when you find that you can't keep it all inside, when you have to tell someone, you know where I'm at. And what's even better, I can offer you a cold beer."

"Uh, thanks," Dean said, feeling awkward at the thought of gushing his feelings to someone, although he thought if he were ever going to tell someone, it'd be Jo. "I'll…"

"Call me?" Jo asked, looking at him intently, her eyes piercing. He'd said it before and hadn't followed through. She knew better than to expect it of him again. Still, she hoped.

"Yeah," Dean muttered and left the bar as quickly as he was able. As he walked toward the Impala, he didn't notice the rain that came pouring down. Once he had slammed the door and sat back in the seat, he saw the raindrops splashing furiously against the windshield. He turned on the radio and just sat there.