[FIC] SPN: Turn To Stone (PG)
TITLE: Turn to Stone
CHARACTER(S): Joanna Beth Harvelle and Bela Talbot
FANDOM: Supernatural
RATING: PG
WARNING(S): I cannot write a good Bela for the life of me, but I did try awfully hard.
SUMMARY: Maybe it was the well-aimed barbs Bela was shooting at Dean that made Jo feel warm and fuzzy towards the woman, but those cold-hearted bitches had to stick together, right?
WORD COUNT: 480
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for iluvroadrunner6's drabble request. Prompt was: couture. Also, I'm addicted to feedback, so leave comments. Even if it's bad. CRITIQUES MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND MY FRIENDS!!
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Jo Harvelle was going to kill Dean. Nice and slow, in his sleep, so he could wake up to pain. Lots and lots of pain. And Sam? Sam wasn't getting off easy this time either.
Jo, they'd said. We got a job we need you on.
She should have known better. They never needed her for anything, a point Dean had made nice and clear the last time he'd seen her. But call her a sucker for guys named Winchester because she gave in like a badly pulled Jenga piece. She all but crumbled. Idiot.
Which is why she was spiffed up in some fancy dress that clung to places she'd rather it not and standing next to some British woman, who was probably wearing something handmade and couture, rather than Jo's off the rack number. And yeah, Jo did know what that meant thanks, she did own Cosmo. (Only one and it was her college roommate's and had gotten wedged in her luggage, but still...)
Bela, that was the woman's name, had rubbed Jo the wrong way at first, but with Sam and Dean telling Jo that the woman was practically Satan incarnate, well; she couldn't really be blamed for that. But Bela was actually nice. To Jo at least.
Or maybe it was the well-aimed barbs Bela was shooting at Dean that made Jo feel warm and fuzzy towards the woman, but those cold-hearted bitches had to stick together, right? That's what Mom had always said and no one crossed Ellen.
Jo sighed heavily as Dean began his ritual feeding habits, shoving every bit of food in an arm's length radius into his mouth, mostly at the same time, and chasing it with a flute of champagne that probably cost more than the last set of repairs on the Impala. Bela made the same sort of noise, albeit much more refined, and Jo gave her a questioning glance.
"Does he always eat like that?" Bela asked with a look of disgust. She'd seen it before, but she had hoped it was a one time thing.
Jo cracked a smile and snorted under her breath. "Never seen him near pie, have you?" she asked by way of answering. At Bela's tiny, perfect, headshake, Jo continued. "It's like watching a kid at their first birthday party. Pie meets face and there are no survivors."
Bela laughed lightly and raised her glass in a small toast to Jo. "That image has quite possibly just made this night bearable. Thank you."
See? Jo could fit in with other women.
CHARACTER(S): Joanna Beth Harvelle and Bela Talbot
FANDOM: Supernatural
RATING: PG
WARNING(S): I cannot write a good Bela for the life of me, but I did try awfully hard.
SUMMARY: Maybe it was the well-aimed barbs Bela was shooting at Dean that made Jo feel warm and fuzzy towards the woman, but those cold-hearted bitches had to stick together, right?
WORD COUNT: 480
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for iluvroadrunner6's drabble request. Prompt was: couture. Also, I'm addicted to feedback, so leave comments. Even if it's bad. CRITIQUES MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND MY FRIENDS!!
-
Jo Harvelle was going to kill Dean. Nice and slow, in his sleep, so he could wake up to pain. Lots and lots of pain. And Sam? Sam wasn't getting off easy this time either.
Jo, they'd said. We got a job we need you on.
She should have known better. They never needed her for anything, a point Dean had made nice and clear the last time he'd seen her. But call her a sucker for guys named Winchester because she gave in like a badly pulled Jenga piece. She all but crumbled. Idiot.
Which is why she was spiffed up in some fancy dress that clung to places she'd rather it not and standing next to some British woman, who was probably wearing something handmade and couture, rather than Jo's off the rack number. And yeah, Jo did know what that meant thanks, she did own Cosmo. (Only one and it was her college roommate's and had gotten wedged in her luggage, but still...)
Bela, that was the woman's name, had rubbed Jo the wrong way at first, but with Sam and Dean telling Jo that the woman was practically Satan incarnate, well; she couldn't really be blamed for that. But Bela was actually nice. To Jo at least.
Or maybe it was the well-aimed barbs Bela was shooting at Dean that made Jo feel warm and fuzzy towards the woman, but those cold-hearted bitches had to stick together, right? That's what Mom had always said and no one crossed Ellen.
Jo sighed heavily as Dean began his ritual feeding habits, shoving every bit of food in an arm's length radius into his mouth, mostly at the same time, and chasing it with a flute of champagne that probably cost more than the last set of repairs on the Impala. Bela made the same sort of noise, albeit much more refined, and Jo gave her a questioning glance.
"Does he always eat like that?" Bela asked with a look of disgust. She'd seen it before, but she had hoped it was a one time thing.
Jo cracked a smile and snorted under her breath. "Never seen him near pie, have you?" she asked by way of answering. At Bela's tiny, perfect, headshake, Jo continued. "It's like watching a kid at their first birthday party. Pie meets face and there are no survivors."
Bela laughed lightly and raised her glass in a small toast to Jo. "That image has quite possibly just made this night bearable. Thank you."
See? Jo could fit in with other women.