Handcuffs [Jo/John, Table #1: Elemental]
Title: Handcuffs
Author: highlandemma
Character(s)/Pairing: Jo/John
Theme: Prompt Table Theme 1: Elemental
Prompt: #30: breath
Rating: PG-13 (ish) (this chapter)
Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever, nor will I ever (most likely) own anything that is, or is related to Supernatural. The storyline is mine, but that's it. Even this computer isn't mine. *sigh*
Summary: John Winchester comes back from the dead. Jo doesn't know what to make of that.
Warnings/Author Notes: None for this chapter. This would be set sometime before S5 (since I haven't seen any of it) so there may be spoilers up to the end of S4.
John sat handcuffed to the door frame on the passenger side of Jo's truck. His breath was still heavy from the effort of the walk, and he slumped against the door, unable to sit up straight. His feet were a little scratched from the walk to the truck, and finally beginning to thaw, as were his fingers--except the one he'd cut on Jo's knife. That one was numb--possibly cut worse than either of them could tell.
Jo drove almost angrily, glancing at John now and then as though he were the cause of all the trouble in the world--or at least all the trouble she knew about. As far as John knew, he could have been, considering how long he'd been out of the world. But Jo wasn't talking, or answering questions with more than yes, no, or non-committal grunts. John was actually getting pretty annoyed with her, this tiny blonde thing he used to bounce on his knees and throw into piles of leaves, back when she was even tinier. Back when he was alive. The first time. But he was too damn tired to generate a whole lot of heat with that anger, and he found himself falling asleep as the truck rolled along.
A cell phone shrilled, startling John so badly he smacked his head on the window. Jo frowned at him again as she pulled the phone out of her back pocket, checking the number before flipping it open. "Yeah, it's Jo."
She took a deep breath while she listened to the person on the other end, then blew it out like a sigh. "Yeah, you got it. No, just fine."
Her eyes slid back toward John without completing the glance, and John knew she was talking to someone about him.
"On my way. Yup."
Jo hung up the phone, and John asked, "Who was that?"
Jo looked at him this time, meeting his eyes defiantly. She was about to lie to him.
"No one you know."
John snorted. "Sure, no one I know. Bullshit, Jo. You never did learn to play poker, did you?"
Sh shrugged one shoulder as she looked back at the dark road ahead of them. "Nope, not really."
"So who was it?"
"Doesn't matter."
"I swear, Jo, I had my hands free..."
"And if you had the strength you were born with...I know, I know, you'd spank me like a little girl caught stealing a candy bar."
Silence struck the cab of the truck like a freight train. John watched a flush of color run up Jo's neck and into her cheeks as soon as she stopped speaking and realized what she'd said. The color went all the way up to the tips of her ears.
Yup, John decided, feeling a tiny spark ot life flaring in his chest. Definitely alive again. Unless dead guys who still felt pretty much dead could get raging hard ons with one smart remark from a gorgeous girl. Woman. Best friend's daughter. Woman. Oh, crap. John looked away, out the window, and was quickly asleep again.