Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2011-03-05 10:16 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2011-03-05 10:16 am
Sam/Jo - Someone to Watch Over Me
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Someone to Watch Over Me
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam Winchester/Jo Harvelle, Dean Winchester
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: It was the last voice in the world he expected to hear, and the sound of it had him turning almost on a dime.
Author’s Notes: Written forzanycupcake for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_hetexchange. AU of 503: Free to be You and Me.
Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
“I have to say—this is a little weird.”
It was the last voice in the world he expected to hear, and the sound of it had him turning almost on a dime. In fact, the confused look on his face was probably bordering on comical as he stared at the tiny blond in front of him, the one he thought he had left behind in River Pass a few days earlier. The look on Jo’s face said that Sam was probably making a bigger deal out of this in his own head than it was meant to be. He couldn’t help it, though. He was dumbstruck and wondered how the world always seemed to catch up with him a little too quickly when he was trying to run away.
“It’s Jo,” she said, a bemused expression staying planted on her face. “Just saw me a week ago, Sam. It must be pretty bad if you’re forgettin’ my name already.”
“No, right. I know.” He was flailing. Damnit, why was he flailing. “I’m just … never mind. Hi.” There was a half-sheepish smile that seemed to bail him out, as she just flashed him a smile back and slid up onto one of the stools in front of the bar.
“As I said. This is a little weird.”
Sam smirked a bit as he walked closer. “Are you psychic all of the sudden, or do you know me well enough that you knew I would make a giant ass of myself?”
“I actually thought it was weird before you made a giant ass of yourself,” she grinned. “Usually I’m the one behind the bar. This—” She winced, before shaking her head. “This is a brave new world.”
He laughed a bit, before shaking his head. “Do you want a beer?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not sure I can trust anything that comes from behind that bar.”
There was a definite sense of challenge in her voice, and it made Sam’s male pride, as little as there was left, rise up and pay attention. He straightened behind the bar, meeting the challenge in her eyes with a bit of his own. “I think I can handle the back of a bar, Jo.”
She smirked, letting her fingers drum against the top of the bar. “That so?”
“That’s so,” he said with a confident look that he knew was going to get smacked off his face in two minutes, because that’s what happens when you’re around Jo Harvelle. She paused for a moment, looking around in a way that was the epitome of casual.
“Alright. How ‘bout a quick fuck?”
Sam just stared at her for a long time. Just—stared, dumbfounded, because he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Did she really just ask him for a—
“The drink, Winchester. Jesus, and I thought your brother was bad.”
Sam couldn’t help it. He laughed. It felt like it had been so long since it happened, and the sensation was weird and a little foreign, but it felt good. In fact, it had him feeling a little more human again, and that was what he needed more than anything else.
“Right. The drink.”
Jo was grinning like an idiot, just looking up at him like she had just conquered the Devil all on her own, just by getting that tiny little reaction from him. “So?” she asked, drumming her fingers against the bar again. “Can I get one or not?”
Sam nodded, still shaking his head as he went to fix her the drink. “Yeah. You can get one.”
***
It was three days of Jo coming in and criticizing his bartending before Sam’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask her why she was there. He was ninety-nine percent certain she didn’t stalk him from Colorado just to hassle him day in and day out. There was something that brought her here, and Sam being there just happened to be a funny coincidence.
It was getting close to closing, and Jo was still sitting in the back, newspaper spread out in front of her and a beer in her hand. He was wiping down one of the tables near her when he looked up, just watching her as she read over the paper.
“What are you doing here, Jo?”
She raised an eyebrow as she glanced over to him. “I got here … Wednesday, and you’re asking me now what I’m doing here?”
He shrugged, before he moved on to wiping down the next table. “I thought that you were just passing through, but … it’s Saturday.”
She smirked a bit, before glancing back down at the paper. “Think there’s a job on the other side of town. There was an epidemic of deaths involving middle-aged banking executives. Figured it might be worth checking out.”
“Right. A job.” It usually was. Sam was trying not to get too curious about the details. He was the one who decided to leave that life behind, a point that Jo kept going around in circles about that—she wasn’t fully understanding the why, but at this point she had let it go, so Sam was doing his best to leave it be. “So what are you doing on this side of town?”
She shrugged, taking another sip of her beer. “Looking for back-up. Someone told me once that I shouldn’t go into a hunt half-assed all on my own.” She looked pointedly at him for a moment, and his shoulders slumped. He knew what she was asking, and he wasn’t sure if he could do it. He still didn’t trust himself, and if he couldn’t protect her—
It was a line of thought that he knew she would punch him for if she could read his mind, and he wouldn’t blame her. Jo was a capable hunter. She didn’t need to be protected like a damsel in distress. But Sam was also weighing the odds in his mind, and lately, they hadn’t seemed to be in his favor.
“C’mon Sam,” she said, turning to the side to drop the file on the case in front of her. “It’s a ghost. Like shooting fish in a barrel. Take two hours, tops.”
“Sounds like an easy case.”
“Guess it is.”
“Sounds like you could handle it on your own.”
Jo met his eyes hard, and didn’t back down. “Maybe I don’t want to. Ever think of that?” Sam watched her for a moment, and the look softened after a moment, before she waved the file at him again. “C’mon, Sam. I promise that as soon as we salt this bastard, I’ll let you go back to being the worst bartender in Garber.” She looked at him expectantly. “Please?”
He was quiet, but the curiosity about the case got the better of him. It wasn’t every day that bankers were the target of a ghost attack—or at least, that was what he was telling himself. He slid into the booth across from her, reaching for the file. He still didn’t open it, just watching it for a moment, before looking up at her.
“I’ll look at the case. On one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“If I do this,” he began. “I get upgraded from ‘worst bartender in Garber’ to ‘eh—he’s alright’.”
Jo grinned. “We’ll talk once the ghost is history, okay?”
Sam grinned back at her, before nodding and flipping open the file. “Okay.”
***
One case turned into two, two turned into ten, and the next thing he knew, he was back to the job he knew, but with a different partner. Funny how a different partner can make all the difference. There was no pressure with Jo, no expectations, no watching for him to fail. It was just two people, hunting together and doing the most good they could where they could. It was the best kind of therapy Sam could have asked for, because Jo didn’t know about his history with demon blood, or the fact that he had chosen a demon over his brother. She just expected him to have her back, and that much he could do.
And sometimes he did more than that.
“Your phone’s ringing again.”
Sam was resting on his side next to her, his finger trailing over her back lightly. One wide, tan finger tracing circles and stars against her skin as she rested on her stomach next to him, watching him. He ignored the statement for a moment, just keeping his focus on her and not the beeping, lit up LCD screen that was vibrating against the bedside table. He leaned forward, brushing a kiss against her shoulder, before inching a little bit closer. She sighed softly, arching up into him before rolling onto her side so that she was facing him more.
“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, Sam.”
“I tried,” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her. “He said no.”
Jo closed her eyes into the kiss, letting their bodies shift until Sam was leaning over her. They knew each other well enough at this point that they could just move together, shifting so that they were fluid and one. He broke the kiss after a moment, mouthing a line against her jaw before dipping lower.
“He might have changed his mind.”
He hummed softly against her skin. “It can wait.”
Her hand found the back of her neck and she pulled him back so that he met her eyes again. She held that gaze for a moment, before actually speaking. “He’s your brother, Sam.”
“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her nose gently, before pushing closer. “I’ll call him back.” He moved his mouth lower again, teasing her neck as he pushed closer. “Later.”
There was a bit of a giggle as his hands tickled against her sides and she grinned. “Alright, fine. Later.”
***
Later, Sam couldn’t sleep, while Jo was sleeping peacefully next to him. He knew the truth now. He had found out about Lucifer and being his vessel, which is why he called Dean in the first place, and it had been easy when Dean said no. It gave Sam and out, allowed him to take the easy road and stay here with Jo—pretend the rest of the world wasn’t coming to a violent bloody end.
If Dean was calling and he had changed his mind, Sam would have to take responsibility for himself. He would have to grow up and handle things. He would have to deal with a brother who didn’t trust him, but maybe, if he could handle this time with Jo without things going terribly wrong, maybe he could handle things with Dean, too—or at least have somewhere to go if it all blows up on his face.
Slowly, he untangled himself from the tiny blond next to him, and climbed out of bed, reaching for his clothes and his phone. Once he was dressed, he stepped outside the motel room, bringing the phone to his ear and waiting for Dean to pick up the phone. It took a few rings, but it wasn’t long before there was a click on the other end of the line.
“Yeah?”
“Dean, it’s me.” There was a pause, and he ran a hand over his face. “You called?”
“Yeah.” There was that awkward, I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing pause that had been in a lot of Dean’s speech lately, but Sam chose to ignore it. “I want to meet up.”
It wasn’t a lot, but it was at least a start. Sam sighed as he considered that for a moment, before nodding. “Okay. We’re just outside Avon, Colorado.”
“Great, I’m not too far.” Then there was a beat. “Wait, we?”
“Yeah. Me and Jo.” There was a pause as he let Dean process that, before he straightened a bit more. “That a problem for you?”
There was another long pause, and eventually Dean sighed. “No, that’s—awesome.” There was more to what he wanted to say, Sam could tell, but he didn’t want to hear Dean say it. He took a breath, and cut him off before he could get further.
“I’ll see you in a few days. Call me when you’re close.”
With that, he hung up, taking a breath as he stared at the phone. He knew it wasn’t the best start to rebuilding their relationship, but at least it was something. At least they had a start. He turned on his heel and headed back into the motel room, pulling off his sweatshirt as he went. He would worry about Dean in the morning.
For right now, he was going back to bed.
Title: Someone to Watch Over Me
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam Winchester/Jo Harvelle, Dean Winchester
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: It was the last voice in the world he expected to hear, and the sound of it had him turning almost on a dime.
Author’s Notes: Written for
zanycupcake for spn_hetexchange. AU of 503: Free to be You and Me.Disclaimer: I don’t own. They belong to Kripke. I’m just borrowing and will put everything back where I found it.
“I have to say—this is a little weird.”
It was the last voice in the world he expected to hear, and the sound of it had him turning almost on a dime. In fact, the confused look on his face was probably bordering on comical as he stared at the tiny blond in front of him, the one he thought he had left behind in River Pass a few days earlier. The look on Jo’s face said that Sam was probably making a bigger deal out of this in his own head than it was meant to be. He couldn’t help it, though. He was dumbstruck and wondered how the world always seemed to catch up with him a little too quickly when he was trying to run away.
“It’s Jo,” she said, a bemused expression staying planted on her face. “Just saw me a week ago, Sam. It must be pretty bad if you’re forgettin’ my name already.”
“No, right. I know.” He was flailing. Damnit, why was he flailing. “I’m just … never mind. Hi.” There was a half-sheepish smile that seemed to bail him out, as she just flashed him a smile back and slid up onto one of the stools in front of the bar.
“As I said. This is a little weird.”
Sam smirked a bit as he walked closer. “Are you psychic all of the sudden, or do you know me well enough that you knew I would make a giant ass of myself?”
“I actually thought it was weird before you made a giant ass of yourself,” she grinned. “Usually I’m the one behind the bar. This—” She winced, before shaking her head. “This is a brave new world.”
He laughed a bit, before shaking his head. “Do you want a beer?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m not sure I can trust anything that comes from behind that bar.”
There was a definite sense of challenge in her voice, and it made Sam’s male pride, as little as there was left, rise up and pay attention. He straightened behind the bar, meeting the challenge in her eyes with a bit of his own. “I think I can handle the back of a bar, Jo.”
She smirked, letting her fingers drum against the top of the bar. “That so?”
“That’s so,” he said with a confident look that he knew was going to get smacked off his face in two minutes, because that’s what happens when you’re around Jo Harvelle. She paused for a moment, looking around in a way that was the epitome of casual.
“Alright. How ‘bout a quick fuck?”
Sam just stared at her for a long time. Just—stared, dumbfounded, because he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Did she really just ask him for a—
“The drink, Winchester. Jesus, and I thought your brother was bad.”
Sam couldn’t help it. He laughed. It felt like it had been so long since it happened, and the sensation was weird and a little foreign, but it felt good. In fact, it had him feeling a little more human again, and that was what he needed more than anything else.
“Right. The drink.”
Jo was grinning like an idiot, just looking up at him like she had just conquered the Devil all on her own, just by getting that tiny little reaction from him. “So?” she asked, drumming her fingers against the bar again. “Can I get one or not?”
Sam nodded, still shaking his head as he went to fix her the drink. “Yeah. You can get one.”
***
It was three days of Jo coming in and criticizing his bartending before Sam’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask her why she was there. He was ninety-nine percent certain she didn’t stalk him from Colorado just to hassle him day in and day out. There was something that brought her here, and Sam being there just happened to be a funny coincidence.
It was getting close to closing, and Jo was still sitting in the back, newspaper spread out in front of her and a beer in her hand. He was wiping down one of the tables near her when he looked up, just watching her as she read over the paper.
“What are you doing here, Jo?”
She raised an eyebrow as she glanced over to him. “I got here … Wednesday, and you’re asking me now what I’m doing here?”
He shrugged, before he moved on to wiping down the next table. “I thought that you were just passing through, but … it’s Saturday.”
She smirked a bit, before glancing back down at the paper. “Think there’s a job on the other side of town. There was an epidemic of deaths involving middle-aged banking executives. Figured it might be worth checking out.”
“Right. A job.” It usually was. Sam was trying not to get too curious about the details. He was the one who decided to leave that life behind, a point that Jo kept going around in circles about that—she wasn’t fully understanding the why, but at this point she had let it go, so Sam was doing his best to leave it be. “So what are you doing on this side of town?”
She shrugged, taking another sip of her beer. “Looking for back-up. Someone told me once that I shouldn’t go into a hunt half-assed all on my own.” She looked pointedly at him for a moment, and his shoulders slumped. He knew what she was asking, and he wasn’t sure if he could do it. He still didn’t trust himself, and if he couldn’t protect her—
It was a line of thought that he knew she would punch him for if she could read his mind, and he wouldn’t blame her. Jo was a capable hunter. She didn’t need to be protected like a damsel in distress. But Sam was also weighing the odds in his mind, and lately, they hadn’t seemed to be in his favor.
“C’mon Sam,” she said, turning to the side to drop the file on the case in front of her. “It’s a ghost. Like shooting fish in a barrel. Take two hours, tops.”
“Sounds like an easy case.”
“Guess it is.”
“Sounds like you could handle it on your own.”
Jo met his eyes hard, and didn’t back down. “Maybe I don’t want to. Ever think of that?” Sam watched her for a moment, and the look softened after a moment, before she waved the file at him again. “C’mon, Sam. I promise that as soon as we salt this bastard, I’ll let you go back to being the worst bartender in Garber.” She looked at him expectantly. “Please?”
He was quiet, but the curiosity about the case got the better of him. It wasn’t every day that bankers were the target of a ghost attack—or at least, that was what he was telling himself. He slid into the booth across from her, reaching for the file. He still didn’t open it, just watching it for a moment, before looking up at her.
“I’ll look at the case. On one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“If I do this,” he began. “I get upgraded from ‘worst bartender in Garber’ to ‘eh—he’s alright’.”
Jo grinned. “We’ll talk once the ghost is history, okay?”
Sam grinned back at her, before nodding and flipping open the file. “Okay.”
***
One case turned into two, two turned into ten, and the next thing he knew, he was back to the job he knew, but with a different partner. Funny how a different partner can make all the difference. There was no pressure with Jo, no expectations, no watching for him to fail. It was just two people, hunting together and doing the most good they could where they could. It was the best kind of therapy Sam could have asked for, because Jo didn’t know about his history with demon blood, or the fact that he had chosen a demon over his brother. She just expected him to have her back, and that much he could do.
And sometimes he did more than that.
“Your phone’s ringing again.”
Sam was resting on his side next to her, his finger trailing over her back lightly. One wide, tan finger tracing circles and stars against her skin as she rested on her stomach next to him, watching him. He ignored the statement for a moment, just keeping his focus on her and not the beeping, lit up LCD screen that was vibrating against the bedside table. He leaned forward, brushing a kiss against her shoulder, before inching a little bit closer. She sighed softly, arching up into him before rolling onto her side so that she was facing him more.
“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, Sam.”
“I tried,” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss her. “He said no.”
Jo closed her eyes into the kiss, letting their bodies shift until Sam was leaning over her. They knew each other well enough at this point that they could just move together, shifting so that they were fluid and one. He broke the kiss after a moment, mouthing a line against her jaw before dipping lower.
“He might have changed his mind.”
He hummed softly against her skin. “It can wait.”
Her hand found the back of her neck and she pulled him back so that he met her eyes again. She held that gaze for a moment, before actually speaking. “He’s your brother, Sam.”
“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her nose gently, before pushing closer. “I’ll call him back.” He moved his mouth lower again, teasing her neck as he pushed closer. “Later.”
There was a bit of a giggle as his hands tickled against her sides and she grinned. “Alright, fine. Later.”
***
Later, Sam couldn’t sleep, while Jo was sleeping peacefully next to him. He knew the truth now. He had found out about Lucifer and being his vessel, which is why he called Dean in the first place, and it had been easy when Dean said no. It gave Sam and out, allowed him to take the easy road and stay here with Jo—pretend the rest of the world wasn’t coming to a violent bloody end.
If Dean was calling and he had changed his mind, Sam would have to take responsibility for himself. He would have to grow up and handle things. He would have to deal with a brother who didn’t trust him, but maybe, if he could handle this time with Jo without things going terribly wrong, maybe he could handle things with Dean, too—or at least have somewhere to go if it all blows up on his face.
Slowly, he untangled himself from the tiny blond next to him, and climbed out of bed, reaching for his clothes and his phone. Once he was dressed, he stepped outside the motel room, bringing the phone to his ear and waiting for Dean to pick up the phone. It took a few rings, but it wasn’t long before there was a click on the other end of the line.
“Yeah?”
“Dean, it’s me.” There was a pause, and he ran a hand over his face. “You called?”
“Yeah.” There was that awkward, I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing pause that had been in a lot of Dean’s speech lately, but Sam chose to ignore it. “I want to meet up.”
It wasn’t a lot, but it was at least a start. Sam sighed as he considered that for a moment, before nodding. “Okay. We’re just outside Avon, Colorado.”
“Great, I’m not too far.” Then there was a beat. “Wait, we?”
“Yeah. Me and Jo.” There was a pause as he let Dean process that, before he straightened a bit more. “That a problem for you?”
There was another long pause, and eventually Dean sighed. “No, that’s—awesome.” There was more to what he wanted to say, Sam could tell, but he didn’t want to hear Dean say it. He took a breath, and cut him off before he could get further.
“I’ll see you in a few days. Call me when you’re close.”
With that, he hung up, taking a breath as he stared at the phone. He knew it wasn’t the best start to rebuilding their relationship, but at least it was something. At least they had a start. He turned on his heel and headed back into the motel room, pulling off his sweatshirt as he went. He would worry about Dean in the morning.
For right now, he was going back to bed.