On The Rocks
Jo rolled her eyes at Dean for what felt like the fiftieth time the past ten minutes. She was already done with the conversation but Dean, stubborn jerk that he was, didn't seem to quite know when to quit. So, as he rambled on, she just poured herself another drink.
It was after hours and she was damn sure that she was going to make him pay for the amount of booze they were getting through, but she didn't mind his company. She liked having him around. It was sad, sometimes, seeing how he carried himself. It wasn't like she remembered. There was a difference to him now, a space that years apart couldn't quite make out, but she didn't want to try. Joanna Beth Harvelle was no damn fool and she knew when to leave well enough alone.
Dean Winchester, however, was the weakness for a lot of people and she wouldn't ever admit he was still a weakness of hers.
"And another thing--" he continued, but she'd had enough.
"Dean! Shut up." Her tone seemed to make it through his drunken haze and he pouted at her, sliding a glass across the bar to her.
"Another one, on the rocks."
"Ohh, no, you've had enough." She set the bottle out of reach, and Dean leaned over the bar to try to grab for it. Luckily, she was that bit faster and far more sober, and she snagged hold of his wrist before he could get anywhere. Dean was pouting even more, and Jo rolled her eyes (fifty-one) before she leaned in that bit closer to get her message across to him.
"You've had enough, Dean."
He stared her down, green eyes on blue, and she was damn sure she wasn't losing this one until his lips were pressed firm against hers. Jo took a sharp breath in, her hand tightening around his wrist, and when Dean didn't pull away neither did she. She was sure this was a stupid idea, but it was just a kiss, and when it was over she would make sure he knew he wasn't getting anything else.
Yet it lasted, and it was good, and god damn it all if she didn't wish fate wasn't such a fickle bitch. She knew the timing was bad, it would always be bad, but she just wished this would last a little while longer.
It was after hours and she was damn sure that she was going to make him pay for the amount of booze they were getting through, but she didn't mind his company. She liked having him around. It was sad, sometimes, seeing how he carried himself. It wasn't like she remembered. There was a difference to him now, a space that years apart couldn't quite make out, but she didn't want to try. Joanna Beth Harvelle was no damn fool and she knew when to leave well enough alone.
Dean Winchester, however, was the weakness for a lot of people and she wouldn't ever admit he was still a weakness of hers.
"And another thing--" he continued, but she'd had enough.
"Dean! Shut up." Her tone seemed to make it through his drunken haze and he pouted at her, sliding a glass across the bar to her.
"Another one, on the rocks."
"Ohh, no, you've had enough." She set the bottle out of reach, and Dean leaned over the bar to try to grab for it. Luckily, she was that bit faster and far more sober, and she snagged hold of his wrist before he could get anywhere. Dean was pouting even more, and Jo rolled her eyes (fifty-one) before she leaned in that bit closer to get her message across to him.
"You've had enough, Dean."
He stared her down, green eyes on blue, and she was damn sure she wasn't losing this one until his lips were pressed firm against hers. Jo took a sharp breath in, her hand tightening around his wrist, and when Dean didn't pull away neither did she. She was sure this was a stupid idea, but it was just a kiss, and when it was over she would make sure he knew he wasn't getting anything else.
Yet it lasted, and it was good, and god damn it all if she didn't wish fate wasn't such a fickle bitch. She knew the timing was bad, it would always be bad, but she just wished this would last a little while longer.