let's end with letting go - for starianprincess
Title: let's end with letting go
Author/Artist: puchuupoet
Recipient: starianprincess
Pairing: Jo/Bela
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~4200
Warnings: implied child abuse
Summary: Jo gets a grown up trip down nostalgia lane.
Notes: Set a couple days before the final events in 3.15. Based roughly on the prompts: sex against a counter or tabletop, last-(wo)man-standing competition by downing shots, somewhat happy ending.
Beta'd by chaosraven ♥♥
Jo can tell the car's lost even before its occupants set foot inside the Roadhouse. She's on her tiptoes peering out the front window at the almost empty lot. The rush isn't due for another couple of hours and she's getting tired of wiping glasses and table tops. She wants to do more - practice pouring drinks again - but there's no one around to appreciate the fruits of her labor, and her mom says not until she's older. Jo thinks thirteen is old enough, but her mom still rolls her eyes whenever Jo asks.
The car's new. A Mercedes if she has to guess, though she's more familiar with the pickups and muscle cars that generally litter the lot. This one's shiny, too clean for the outskirts of Nebraska, and that's what keeps her face pressed to the glass.
Her mother's footsteps behind her make her jump, and Jo looks behind herself, meeting stern eyes. Jo turns back to wiping down the table, pulling the chairs off to land on the floor with heavy thuds.
A moment later the front door groans; a clogged hinge that Jo knows her mom leaves that way instead of throwing money towards a door chime. She turns around, cautious smile already plastered on her face, ready to greet whoever it is and to tell them opening's not for awhile.
She freezes when she catches sight of the man's face, the look in his eyes discomforting. But Jo can't bring herself to look away, and the man doesn't. His wife shifts from foot to foot behind him. The moment's only broken when Ellen barks out a cool greeting from behind the counter, and even then the man waits a beat longer, licking his upper lip before twisting his head towards Ellen.
"Is there a restroom here? My daughter needs to use it." Jo hasn't even had a chance to look behind the couple. From where she's standing she can see a blonde head pressed tightly next to the woman, but not much else.
"There's one over there, back corner by the pool table." Ellen's just standing there, not even wiping the counter, and that more than anything else makes Jo's stomach twist.
"Let's go." The man's voice is sharp, harsh. He reaches for the girl's hand but even from where Jo's standing she can see her shrink back tighter against the woman. Her mother, Jo wants to reason, but she knows better than to assume. Her daddy taught her that one, makes an ass out of "u" and me and it's one of those silly things that stays stuck with her.
"You folks from around here?" Ellen's voice cuts through the tension, but Jo watches as the man's shoulders tighten and the girl slides around behind the woman.
"No. Taking a detour."
"Well then, come on over here and let me show you the best way around these parts. My daughter can show yours where the bathroom is." Ellen's using her no-nonsense tone, and Jo's glad to see that the man seems to get it.
Jo nods at her mom's look and walks a bit closer, holding her hand out. The girl hesitantly comes forward, keeping a wide distance from the man. When she grasps Jo's hand it's a sticky handshake, clammy and damp.
A gentle tug and the girl's following Jo, but it's not until they reach the pool table that Jo's comfortable enough to say anything. "My name's Joanna, but everyone calls me Jo. What's your name?"
The girl just glances at Jo, her eyes calculating as they track down Jo's body. Jo just smiles back and reaches out to open the back door.
Jo guides her down the back hallway, past the stack of boxed napkins and Ash's old dirt bike that he sometimes lets Jo borrow. The doorway to the bathroom is right past that, and Jo pauses.
"Right in there, and the door locks with the chain. Someone busted up the door handle." She flexes her fingers a little, waiting to be released but the girl keeps holding on.
"I don't really... You know, have to go." The girl looks embarrassed, shrugs her shoulders as if she's trying to hide inside her cardigan.
Jo's not dumb, she can see the way the other girl's brows furrow slightly and how red and broken up her lips are. Jo's mouth looked the exact same way after finding out what happened to her daddy and she wonders what else is out there that leaves someone so bloody and chewed on.
"We can hide here a bit if you'd like. Pretend like you are." At Jo's words the girl seems to relax a little but she doesn't loosen her grip on Jo's hand. "How old are you?"
"Thirteen." She's still looking behind her down the hallway, as if she's waiting for the man to follow them there.
Jo squeezes her hand. "It's okay. My mom'll keep them busy. Here." Jo pushes some stuff to the side, clearing off space on an old wooden crate. She hops up, feet dangling, but never lets go.
The girl finally looks at Jo. She meets Jo's eyes and the ends of her mouth start to curve up as she follows Jo's lead.
The crate's just big enough for the both of them, their legs swinging back and forth against the side. "I'm twelve," Jo offers, breaking the silence. The other girl shifts, settling in and pressing closer to Jo.
Jo can feel the warmth against her side almost immediately, and she tries not to think about it cause she knows how bad she can blush.
There's a sudden rise in volume out at the bar and then Jo can hear the jukebox shifting around. Hendrix bursts out there must be some kinda way out of here and Jo lifts her head at the lyrics. She and Ash have a thing where they match songs to customers, see who can guess who it is first. Usually for fun, but they've used it as a warning system before, and Jo can feel herself tense up.
"We'd better get back," she whispers, not wanting to break the moment. The other girl drops her head down, leans it against Jo's shoulder and Jo wants to apologize for her bones, the harsh angles that bruise easily.
The girl slides off to land on the floor, turning around until Jo's knees are pressed against her thighs. She leans in close and Jo can smell her shampoo, something heavy with flowers that doesn't quite do its job of masking a deeper scent. Something masculine and dark, embedded in her clothes and on her flesh that makes Jo's skin crawl.
"My name's Abby," she whispers, pulling away to meet Jo's eyes. "I don't want to go back." Jo's mouth parts even though she doesn't know what to say to that, but then Abby's coming closer again, straight on this time. All Jo's able to do is suck in a breath before Abby's mouth covers hers, damp and uncoordinated and desperate. Jo's eyes flutter shut but it's over in a heartbeat, and she can feel Abby's hand squeeze tight before finally letting go.
By the time Jo opens her eyes Abby's turning the far corner of the hallway and there's not enough time for Jo to catch up with her. By the time she gets to the pool table the front door's groaning shut, and by the time she reaches the window all that's left of Abby is a cloud of dust.
Jo slumps back from the window, her heart racing as she carefully runs her fingers over her lips. She's never been kissed before and wonders if all the rest to follow will raise her as high as this one does.
Ellen just looks at her when Jo walks behind the bar to grab a new rag but doesn't say anything, just reaches out to tug on the loose braid and pull her close. "I love you darling and don't you ever forget that," Ellen murmurs into Jo's hair.
~~~
The Roadhouse is full tonight, a clear mid-April night bringing in a steady flow of hunters and passers by that keep Jo on her feet. It's become a dance over the years, pirouetting between tables and chairs, avoiding grabby hands that belong to folks who haven't learned the rules yet. She only has to tell them once, pinning their arm tight and painful against their back until they get that she's not to be touched.
The crowd ebbs and flows throughout the night, Jo's eyes flit over familiar faces with a grin, until finally the clock rings out and Jo can take a breather. There are only a handful of people left in the Roadhouse at this hour, all hunters that Jo's grown up with. Ellen presses a kiss to Jo's head before heading to the back, claiming inventory needs to be done. Jo can see the lines around her mom's eyes, the creases amplified when Ellen's smiling or pissed or exhausted. Jo hopes that's a lie, that she's really heading to bed instead of working until dawn streaks in through the windows.
Another hour passes and the patrons trickle out, paying off their tabs and tipping their hats to Jo on their way out.
It's still early enough to keep the lights on outside, just in case anyone else is passing through. Jo starts picking up the chairs in the far corner of the room, cleaning up what she can until she finds herself back behind the bar.
Everything's routine, ingrained in her skin and fingertips, and she cleans the bar as easily as she drives a car or braids her hair. It's familiar and it's home, and she finds comfort in it all.
She moves back behind the bar, her back to the door, straightening up the liquor bottles and dusting the shelf. Jo still picks up on the groan of the door, the creak of the third floorboard from the stoop. It's a lighter step, and Jo can see a flash of blonde reflected in the faceted bottles.
"What can I get you?" Her voice is loud, used to having to carry over a din, and it echoes in the empty room.
"What do you like?" The voice is instantly out of place the moment the words are spoken and Jo can feel her heart pick up in her throat.
"Depends on what you're looking for tonight." Jo sets down the bottle of vodka she's holding and turns around. The face in front of her is familiar, rounder now, but with those same soft lips and hard eyes.
"Mm, I think I might have found it." The woman smiles, predatory and pleased. She shrugs her jacket off, exposing an elegant silk sleeveless top and leans against the counter. "I'll have what you're having."
Jo can't stop herself from staring for a moment at how the curls twist down around Abby's face, how her lips are a perfect shade of pink. Everything Abby wasn't the last time they saw each other and everything Jo thought she was.
Jo finally turns around when Abby leers, a pleased smile curling over her face, and Jo doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing her react.
She reaches under the counter for a pair of shot glasses and with her other hand grabs the neck of a bottle of whiskey from the back counter, one of the higher end brands that the hunters usually save for celebration or bereavement.
Jo sets the bottle down in front of Abby, untwisting the cap with a flourish before pouring them each a shot. "To the future, whatever it may hold," she states, holding her glass up, mimicking the hunters' toast typically heard 'round the Roadhouse.
Abby holds hers up as well, tips it back when Jo does and doesn't wince. Jo watches as Abby pulls the bottle over, pouring them each a second shot.
"To the past," Abby murmurs, swallowing the shot in a quick gesture. Jo sucks hers down to keep up.
Jo's bubbling over with questions. She wants to know what's happened during the past ten years, what it is that's brought Abby back to her. She does her best to keep calm though. She grabs a damp rag and starts to run it over the counter.
"You're trembling," Abby remarks after a moment of silence, and Jo's eyes shoot up to meet Abby's gaze. She just smirks at Jo before grabbing the bottle and filling up the shot glasses again.
"You're back," Jo fires back, annoyed at Abby's confidence and she quickly takes her shot, the glass hitting the counter with a sharp noise.
"I couldn't stay away for long, could I now."
"For long?" Jo knows how incredulous she sounds. "Fuck Abby, it's been nine years now, almost ten."
The moment the words leave her mouth Jo can see Abby tighten up, her eyes briefly glazing over before turning back sharply to stare at Jo. "It's Bela now. Please," she adds on as an afterthought.
"Bela, really." Jo's head is pounding, has been since Abby - since Bela walked in through the door. "What happened then?"
Bela stares down at her shot glass, twirling the liquid around. "She died, long ago."
Jo's getting tired of this, this feeling of lies and subterfuge even though Bela's been open since she came in. She tosses her rag down with a wet smack on the counter and makes her way out from behind the bar. She steps quickly to the front door, locking the deadbolt with a loud click. Jo can feel Bela's eyes on her, but Jo doesn't meet her gaze until she's standing next to her.
"You've grown, you know." A smile plays over Bela's lips and Jo vividly remembers the last time that they were this close.
Jo moves forward, resting her hands on the barstools on either side of Bela, pinning her in against the counter. "You have no idea," she whispers, her heart pounding loud inside her head.
She's pleased at the look of surprise that flashes over Bela's face and equally comforted by it. The Roadhouse lends itself to flirtation and quick meet-ups, and Jo's learned that most of the time they're not worth the heartache. This time though, she's been holding her breath for it.
Bela starts to open her mouth but Jo moves faster, leaning in close to press her mouth against Bela's. She thinks she's misjudged the situation, the past ten years, when for a moment nothing happens, but then Bela's fingers tangle in her hair to pull her close and Jo can't stop the whimper that slips out.
She's gently tugged back by her hair, and Jo grins when she gets a glimpse of Bela's face: flushed, her lipstick smeared. When Jo licks her lips she can taste it on herself.
At Bela's questioning look Jo just smiles, reaching over to draw her close. She can feel the lines of Bela's bra underneath her thin shirt as she runs her hands down her back. Jo keeps going though, curving around Bela's ass. Jo presses a kiss to her neck with a breathless giggle when she realizes there's no panty line.
"Came here for something then?" She murmurs with a smile. Bela presses herself tighter against Jo's body. "Come here."
There hasn't been a time that Jo can remember where she didn't have to help out at the bar, stocking napkins and filling drinks. Ellen had her hauling boxes soon enough and years of that left Jo lean and muscular. Jo braces herself, reaches around and hefts Bela up, setting her down on one of the stools.
Bela makes a surprised noise, grabbing on to the edge of the counter to steady herself and almost knocks the whiskey over. Jo grins at the fumble, pleased to see more hair falling loose around Bela's shoulders and a flush rising on her cheeks.
Jo's hands move from Bela's waist, one sliding down her thigh, thumbing at the smooth fabric until her fingers reach the hem of Bela's skirt. She curves her other hand behind Bela's neck, pulling her down so that they can kiss again; slow and sweet until Bela's nipping at her lips and making soft noises.
Her hand slips down from Bela's neck, skimming down her arm to cup Bela's breast, and Jo grins at the breathy moan the gesture draws. She fumbles with the line of buttons down the front of Bela's shirt until Bela huffs out a groan and does it herself, leaving her shirt hanging loose from her shoulders.
Jo breaks away from Bela's mouth, pressing a kiss to her nose before nuzzling against her neck. She trails her mouth downwards until lace brushes up against her cheeks and she can feel a flush creep up her neck. Jo tugs at the bra strap, pulling it off Bela's shoulder. Her fingers grasp the edge of the fabric and slowly pull it down and Jo listens to Bela's breath grow ragged.
She kisses the swell of Bela's breast before moving down, licking over the nipple and smiling at the whimper that's drawn out. Jo runs her hand up Bela's thigh, until her fingers meet the crease of flesh and rough curls.
The fact that Bela showed up at the Roadhouse ready for this makes Jo's knees weak and a moan slips out. Bela arches back against the counter, eagerly pressing up against Jo's mouth and hands in a way that catches Jo off-guard.
"Joanna..." Bela's whimper is desperate, pleading, and Jo raises her head to kiss her hard, see if she can get Bela to understand what this all means to her. Bela's fingers tangle in her hair again, drawing her closer this time.
Jo's jeans are tight, always good for pulling in larger tips from the patrons but now they're just an annoyance, rubbing up against her clit every time she moves. Her head's pounding from the combination of whiskey and want and she pulls back from Bela with a grin.
She can feel the blush heating her face but she doesn't care, just lifts her finger to her mouth with a soft shhh before leaning in to kiss Bela's collarbone. Jo's other hand slowly traces down the inside of Bela's leg, slow strokes that soon have her whimpering for more.
"Have you thought about this before?" Jo whispers against Bela's neck, her fingers moving closer to stroke against her folds. Bela just nods her head, eyes shut while her lips part with a gasp.
Jo focuses on Bela, pressing deeper til her fingers come away slick. Bela's hips rock forward, encouraging, and Jo slowly slides her finger inside.
She's thought about this before, dreamt of Abby and what could happen if she returned. Her daydreams shifted as she grew up, from playing cops and robbers to putting on One Lonely Night on the 'box and slow dancing her damn heart out, the two of them pressed close together. She never actually thought she'd see the day when Abby came back to her, a fucking pipe dream she had clung to all these years. Now she's buzzed with ten years of wanting and day dreams pushed tight against her skin and only a vague idea of what to do with it all.
Bela groans and grabs at Jo's waist, her hands following the apron ties around to Jo's bellybutton. Jo buries her face in Bela's shoulder when Bela pops the button on her jeans open and Jo can feel the slow vibration as the zipper's pulled down.
Jo crooks her finger in response, sliding out of Bela long enough to get another finger slick before sliding them both back inside. Jo gently runs her thumb over Bela's clit, adding pressure when she hears the soft desperate noises escaping from her. Bela's hips push forward at the stimulation but she doesn't stop tugging at Jo's jeans, fingers twisting in her panties.
"Come on," Bela huffs out, squirming against the bar. Jo pulls back, wrapping her arms around Bela to pull her off the stool. They wobble for a moment, trying to regain their balance; Bela's skirt still hitched high around her waist. Jo leans in to kiss her, desperate now and trying to make up for all the time that's passed them by. She reaches up to cup Bela's face, one hand sliding back to tangle in her hair, the other thumbing over her cheek as Jo licks into her mouth, moaning at the contact.
Jo's caught off guard when Bela starts nudging her backwards, an awkward fumbling walk that ends with the edge of the pool table hard against Jo's back. She leans away to catch Bela's eyes, curious until she feels Bela pressed close between her legs, hands reaching around to grab at her ass.
"Up," Bela whispers and the soft command has Jo quickly leaning back on her hands to push herself up onto the table. She balances for a moment on the wooden edge, finally slipping back into the felt. Bela tugs Jo towards her, lifting her up so that her hips are sitting on the lip of the table.
Bela makes quick work of her apron ties, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. She meets Jo's gaze when her fingers curl around the waistband of Jo's jeans and starts to pull them off, and Jo finds herself shimmying her hips to speed up the process.
Jo feels exposed spread out on the pool table, light blue panties low on her waist and her shirt pushed up around her bra, but the feeling fades away when Bela smiles at her.
Bela leans over her, kisses her stomach before pulling Jo's panties to the side. She keeps kissing her way down, sucking a mark on Jo's hipbone with a pleased grin.
Jo's legs tense up when Bela licks a path down the inside of her thigh and Bela pins her down with an arm pressed across her hips. It only makes Jo want to buck up more against Bela's mouth, test the limitations that are holding her down.
She does cry out when Bela finally ducks her head down between Jo's legs, loose hair tickling the soft skin and her mouth teasing against Jo's clit. It's too much too soon, after years of harboring this desire. Jo holds her arm over her mouth as her other hand reaches down to tangle in Bela's hair, encouraging her on.
It hits her faster than expected, her legs trembling and she lets a gasp slip out. Bela just sucks harder, her other hand reaching up to slide under Jo's shirt and pushing her bra aside to thumb over her nipple.
Jo's orgasm rocks through her, her body arching up off the table as she tries to muffle the noises escaping from her. She can feel Bela moan, the vibrations shooting through her body as she gasps out. She doesn't want to move afterwards, is ready to pull Bela up next to her until she starts to roll over and lands on the cue ball.
Jo manages to sit up on the edge of the pool table, her legs dangling loosely as she rests her head against Bela's forehead. She's breathless, her body still thrumming from what just happened and she presses a kiss to Bela's temple.
She lets her head drop to Bela's shoulder, her hand reaching down to hike Bela's skirt back up. Jo's fingers slide into her easily and she wraps her legs around Bela's back to draw her in closer.
"Come on, baby," Jo murmurs in her ear and Bela shudders as she comes, grasping on to Jo as her hips jerk up and tight against Jo's hand.
The Roadhouse is silent, most of the light coming from the jukebox and Jo can feel herself starting to doze off, leaning up against Bela. She's not sure how Bela's still standing, just that her breathing isn't quite even enough for her to be asleep.
She kisses the skin behind Bela's ear, a soft nuzzle that earns Jo a low chuckle. It's another few minutes before Bela raises her head to kiss Jo's mouth.
"I can't stay tonight," Bela's voice is apologetic but Jo's stomach still twists at the words. She pulls away to stare at Bela, trying to read the look in her eyes.
"What about for a little while?" Jo keeps her tone hopeful, reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Bela's ear. "Just for a bit."
Bela gnaws on her lower lip for a moment before nodding. "That sounds really good right now," she admits, a raw tone that Jo's never heard from her before.
"Come on then." Jo wriggles forward, the table felt rough on her ass. "My bed'll fit us if we get in close."
Bela moves back, giving Jo enough room to hop down from the table. Jo reaches to grab her jeans and apron from the floor, and reaches out to grab Bela's hand. "I've missed you," she says simply, hoping it's enough to convey everything.
"I've been waiting to find you again," Bela replies, and Jo grins, pressing a kiss to Bela's cheek.
Author/Artist: puchuupoet
Recipient: starianprincess
Pairing: Jo/Bela
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~4200
Warnings: implied child abuse
Summary: Jo gets a grown up trip down nostalgia lane.
Notes: Set a couple days before the final events in 3.15. Based roughly on the prompts: sex against a counter or tabletop, last-(wo)man-standing competition by downing shots, somewhat happy ending.
Beta'd by chaosraven ♥♥
Jo can tell the car's lost even before its occupants set foot inside the Roadhouse. She's on her tiptoes peering out the front window at the almost empty lot. The rush isn't due for another couple of hours and she's getting tired of wiping glasses and table tops. She wants to do more - practice pouring drinks again - but there's no one around to appreciate the fruits of her labor, and her mom says not until she's older. Jo thinks thirteen is old enough, but her mom still rolls her eyes whenever Jo asks.
The car's new. A Mercedes if she has to guess, though she's more familiar with the pickups and muscle cars that generally litter the lot. This one's shiny, too clean for the outskirts of Nebraska, and that's what keeps her face pressed to the glass.
Her mother's footsteps behind her make her jump, and Jo looks behind herself, meeting stern eyes. Jo turns back to wiping down the table, pulling the chairs off to land on the floor with heavy thuds.
A moment later the front door groans; a clogged hinge that Jo knows her mom leaves that way instead of throwing money towards a door chime. She turns around, cautious smile already plastered on her face, ready to greet whoever it is and to tell them opening's not for awhile.
She freezes when she catches sight of the man's face, the look in his eyes discomforting. But Jo can't bring herself to look away, and the man doesn't. His wife shifts from foot to foot behind him. The moment's only broken when Ellen barks out a cool greeting from behind the counter, and even then the man waits a beat longer, licking his upper lip before twisting his head towards Ellen.
"Is there a restroom here? My daughter needs to use it." Jo hasn't even had a chance to look behind the couple. From where she's standing she can see a blonde head pressed tightly next to the woman, but not much else.
"There's one over there, back corner by the pool table." Ellen's just standing there, not even wiping the counter, and that more than anything else makes Jo's stomach twist.
"Let's go." The man's voice is sharp, harsh. He reaches for the girl's hand but even from where Jo's standing she can see her shrink back tighter against the woman. Her mother, Jo wants to reason, but she knows better than to assume. Her daddy taught her that one, makes an ass out of "u" and me and it's one of those silly things that stays stuck with her.
"You folks from around here?" Ellen's voice cuts through the tension, but Jo watches as the man's shoulders tighten and the girl slides around behind the woman.
"No. Taking a detour."
"Well then, come on over here and let me show you the best way around these parts. My daughter can show yours where the bathroom is." Ellen's using her no-nonsense tone, and Jo's glad to see that the man seems to get it.
Jo nods at her mom's look and walks a bit closer, holding her hand out. The girl hesitantly comes forward, keeping a wide distance from the man. When she grasps Jo's hand it's a sticky handshake, clammy and damp.
A gentle tug and the girl's following Jo, but it's not until they reach the pool table that Jo's comfortable enough to say anything. "My name's Joanna, but everyone calls me Jo. What's your name?"
The girl just glances at Jo, her eyes calculating as they track down Jo's body. Jo just smiles back and reaches out to open the back door.
Jo guides her down the back hallway, past the stack of boxed napkins and Ash's old dirt bike that he sometimes lets Jo borrow. The doorway to the bathroom is right past that, and Jo pauses.
"Right in there, and the door locks with the chain. Someone busted up the door handle." She flexes her fingers a little, waiting to be released but the girl keeps holding on.
"I don't really... You know, have to go." The girl looks embarrassed, shrugs her shoulders as if she's trying to hide inside her cardigan.
Jo's not dumb, she can see the way the other girl's brows furrow slightly and how red and broken up her lips are. Jo's mouth looked the exact same way after finding out what happened to her daddy and she wonders what else is out there that leaves someone so bloody and chewed on.
"We can hide here a bit if you'd like. Pretend like you are." At Jo's words the girl seems to relax a little but she doesn't loosen her grip on Jo's hand. "How old are you?"
"Thirteen." She's still looking behind her down the hallway, as if she's waiting for the man to follow them there.
Jo squeezes her hand. "It's okay. My mom'll keep them busy. Here." Jo pushes some stuff to the side, clearing off space on an old wooden crate. She hops up, feet dangling, but never lets go.
The girl finally looks at Jo. She meets Jo's eyes and the ends of her mouth start to curve up as she follows Jo's lead.
The crate's just big enough for the both of them, their legs swinging back and forth against the side. "I'm twelve," Jo offers, breaking the silence. The other girl shifts, settling in and pressing closer to Jo.
Jo can feel the warmth against her side almost immediately, and she tries not to think about it cause she knows how bad she can blush.
There's a sudden rise in volume out at the bar and then Jo can hear the jukebox shifting around. Hendrix bursts out there must be some kinda way out of here and Jo lifts her head at the lyrics. She and Ash have a thing where they match songs to customers, see who can guess who it is first. Usually for fun, but they've used it as a warning system before, and Jo can feel herself tense up.
"We'd better get back," she whispers, not wanting to break the moment. The other girl drops her head down, leans it against Jo's shoulder and Jo wants to apologize for her bones, the harsh angles that bruise easily.
The girl slides off to land on the floor, turning around until Jo's knees are pressed against her thighs. She leans in close and Jo can smell her shampoo, something heavy with flowers that doesn't quite do its job of masking a deeper scent. Something masculine and dark, embedded in her clothes and on her flesh that makes Jo's skin crawl.
"My name's Abby," she whispers, pulling away to meet Jo's eyes. "I don't want to go back." Jo's mouth parts even though she doesn't know what to say to that, but then Abby's coming closer again, straight on this time. All Jo's able to do is suck in a breath before Abby's mouth covers hers, damp and uncoordinated and desperate. Jo's eyes flutter shut but it's over in a heartbeat, and she can feel Abby's hand squeeze tight before finally letting go.
By the time Jo opens her eyes Abby's turning the far corner of the hallway and there's not enough time for Jo to catch up with her. By the time she gets to the pool table the front door's groaning shut, and by the time she reaches the window all that's left of Abby is a cloud of dust.
Jo slumps back from the window, her heart racing as she carefully runs her fingers over her lips. She's never been kissed before and wonders if all the rest to follow will raise her as high as this one does.
Ellen just looks at her when Jo walks behind the bar to grab a new rag but doesn't say anything, just reaches out to tug on the loose braid and pull her close. "I love you darling and don't you ever forget that," Ellen murmurs into Jo's hair.
~~~
The Roadhouse is full tonight, a clear mid-April night bringing in a steady flow of hunters and passers by that keep Jo on her feet. It's become a dance over the years, pirouetting between tables and chairs, avoiding grabby hands that belong to folks who haven't learned the rules yet. She only has to tell them once, pinning their arm tight and painful against their back until they get that she's not to be touched.
The crowd ebbs and flows throughout the night, Jo's eyes flit over familiar faces with a grin, until finally the clock rings out and Jo can take a breather. There are only a handful of people left in the Roadhouse at this hour, all hunters that Jo's grown up with. Ellen presses a kiss to Jo's head before heading to the back, claiming inventory needs to be done. Jo can see the lines around her mom's eyes, the creases amplified when Ellen's smiling or pissed or exhausted. Jo hopes that's a lie, that she's really heading to bed instead of working until dawn streaks in through the windows.
Another hour passes and the patrons trickle out, paying off their tabs and tipping their hats to Jo on their way out.
It's still early enough to keep the lights on outside, just in case anyone else is passing through. Jo starts picking up the chairs in the far corner of the room, cleaning up what she can until she finds herself back behind the bar.
Everything's routine, ingrained in her skin and fingertips, and she cleans the bar as easily as she drives a car or braids her hair. It's familiar and it's home, and she finds comfort in it all.
She moves back behind the bar, her back to the door, straightening up the liquor bottles and dusting the shelf. Jo still picks up on the groan of the door, the creak of the third floorboard from the stoop. It's a lighter step, and Jo can see a flash of blonde reflected in the faceted bottles.
"What can I get you?" Her voice is loud, used to having to carry over a din, and it echoes in the empty room.
"What do you like?" The voice is instantly out of place the moment the words are spoken and Jo can feel her heart pick up in her throat.
"Depends on what you're looking for tonight." Jo sets down the bottle of vodka she's holding and turns around. The face in front of her is familiar, rounder now, but with those same soft lips and hard eyes.
"Mm, I think I might have found it." The woman smiles, predatory and pleased. She shrugs her jacket off, exposing an elegant silk sleeveless top and leans against the counter. "I'll have what you're having."
Jo can't stop herself from staring for a moment at how the curls twist down around Abby's face, how her lips are a perfect shade of pink. Everything Abby wasn't the last time they saw each other and everything Jo thought she was.
Jo finally turns around when Abby leers, a pleased smile curling over her face, and Jo doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing her react.
She reaches under the counter for a pair of shot glasses and with her other hand grabs the neck of a bottle of whiskey from the back counter, one of the higher end brands that the hunters usually save for celebration or bereavement.
Jo sets the bottle down in front of Abby, untwisting the cap with a flourish before pouring them each a shot. "To the future, whatever it may hold," she states, holding her glass up, mimicking the hunters' toast typically heard 'round the Roadhouse.
Abby holds hers up as well, tips it back when Jo does and doesn't wince. Jo watches as Abby pulls the bottle over, pouring them each a second shot.
"To the past," Abby murmurs, swallowing the shot in a quick gesture. Jo sucks hers down to keep up.
Jo's bubbling over with questions. She wants to know what's happened during the past ten years, what it is that's brought Abby back to her. She does her best to keep calm though. She grabs a damp rag and starts to run it over the counter.
"You're trembling," Abby remarks after a moment of silence, and Jo's eyes shoot up to meet Abby's gaze. She just smirks at Jo before grabbing the bottle and filling up the shot glasses again.
"You're back," Jo fires back, annoyed at Abby's confidence and she quickly takes her shot, the glass hitting the counter with a sharp noise.
"I couldn't stay away for long, could I now."
"For long?" Jo knows how incredulous she sounds. "Fuck Abby, it's been nine years now, almost ten."
The moment the words leave her mouth Jo can see Abby tighten up, her eyes briefly glazing over before turning back sharply to stare at Jo. "It's Bela now. Please," she adds on as an afterthought.
"Bela, really." Jo's head is pounding, has been since Abby - since Bela walked in through the door. "What happened then?"
Bela stares down at her shot glass, twirling the liquid around. "She died, long ago."
Jo's getting tired of this, this feeling of lies and subterfuge even though Bela's been open since she came in. She tosses her rag down with a wet smack on the counter and makes her way out from behind the bar. She steps quickly to the front door, locking the deadbolt with a loud click. Jo can feel Bela's eyes on her, but Jo doesn't meet her gaze until she's standing next to her.
"You've grown, you know." A smile plays over Bela's lips and Jo vividly remembers the last time that they were this close.
Jo moves forward, resting her hands on the barstools on either side of Bela, pinning her in against the counter. "You have no idea," she whispers, her heart pounding loud inside her head.
She's pleased at the look of surprise that flashes over Bela's face and equally comforted by it. The Roadhouse lends itself to flirtation and quick meet-ups, and Jo's learned that most of the time they're not worth the heartache. This time though, she's been holding her breath for it.
Bela starts to open her mouth but Jo moves faster, leaning in close to press her mouth against Bela's. She thinks she's misjudged the situation, the past ten years, when for a moment nothing happens, but then Bela's fingers tangle in her hair to pull her close and Jo can't stop the whimper that slips out.
She's gently tugged back by her hair, and Jo grins when she gets a glimpse of Bela's face: flushed, her lipstick smeared. When Jo licks her lips she can taste it on herself.
At Bela's questioning look Jo just smiles, reaching over to draw her close. She can feel the lines of Bela's bra underneath her thin shirt as she runs her hands down her back. Jo keeps going though, curving around Bela's ass. Jo presses a kiss to her neck with a breathless giggle when she realizes there's no panty line.
"Came here for something then?" She murmurs with a smile. Bela presses herself tighter against Jo's body. "Come here."
There hasn't been a time that Jo can remember where she didn't have to help out at the bar, stocking napkins and filling drinks. Ellen had her hauling boxes soon enough and years of that left Jo lean and muscular. Jo braces herself, reaches around and hefts Bela up, setting her down on one of the stools.
Bela makes a surprised noise, grabbing on to the edge of the counter to steady herself and almost knocks the whiskey over. Jo grins at the fumble, pleased to see more hair falling loose around Bela's shoulders and a flush rising on her cheeks.
Jo's hands move from Bela's waist, one sliding down her thigh, thumbing at the smooth fabric until her fingers reach the hem of Bela's skirt. She curves her other hand behind Bela's neck, pulling her down so that they can kiss again; slow and sweet until Bela's nipping at her lips and making soft noises.
Her hand slips down from Bela's neck, skimming down her arm to cup Bela's breast, and Jo grins at the breathy moan the gesture draws. She fumbles with the line of buttons down the front of Bela's shirt until Bela huffs out a groan and does it herself, leaving her shirt hanging loose from her shoulders.
Jo breaks away from Bela's mouth, pressing a kiss to her nose before nuzzling against her neck. She trails her mouth downwards until lace brushes up against her cheeks and she can feel a flush creep up her neck. Jo tugs at the bra strap, pulling it off Bela's shoulder. Her fingers grasp the edge of the fabric and slowly pull it down and Jo listens to Bela's breath grow ragged.
She kisses the swell of Bela's breast before moving down, licking over the nipple and smiling at the whimper that's drawn out. Jo runs her hand up Bela's thigh, until her fingers meet the crease of flesh and rough curls.
The fact that Bela showed up at the Roadhouse ready for this makes Jo's knees weak and a moan slips out. Bela arches back against the counter, eagerly pressing up against Jo's mouth and hands in a way that catches Jo off-guard.
"Joanna..." Bela's whimper is desperate, pleading, and Jo raises her head to kiss her hard, see if she can get Bela to understand what this all means to her. Bela's fingers tangle in her hair again, drawing her closer this time.
Jo's jeans are tight, always good for pulling in larger tips from the patrons but now they're just an annoyance, rubbing up against her clit every time she moves. Her head's pounding from the combination of whiskey and want and she pulls back from Bela with a grin.
She can feel the blush heating her face but she doesn't care, just lifts her finger to her mouth with a soft shhh before leaning in to kiss Bela's collarbone. Jo's other hand slowly traces down the inside of Bela's leg, slow strokes that soon have her whimpering for more.
"Have you thought about this before?" Jo whispers against Bela's neck, her fingers moving closer to stroke against her folds. Bela just nods her head, eyes shut while her lips part with a gasp.
Jo focuses on Bela, pressing deeper til her fingers come away slick. Bela's hips rock forward, encouraging, and Jo slowly slides her finger inside.
She's thought about this before, dreamt of Abby and what could happen if she returned. Her daydreams shifted as she grew up, from playing cops and robbers to putting on One Lonely Night on the 'box and slow dancing her damn heart out, the two of them pressed close together. She never actually thought she'd see the day when Abby came back to her, a fucking pipe dream she had clung to all these years. Now she's buzzed with ten years of wanting and day dreams pushed tight against her skin and only a vague idea of what to do with it all.
Bela groans and grabs at Jo's waist, her hands following the apron ties around to Jo's bellybutton. Jo buries her face in Bela's shoulder when Bela pops the button on her jeans open and Jo can feel the slow vibration as the zipper's pulled down.
Jo crooks her finger in response, sliding out of Bela long enough to get another finger slick before sliding them both back inside. Jo gently runs her thumb over Bela's clit, adding pressure when she hears the soft desperate noises escaping from her. Bela's hips push forward at the stimulation but she doesn't stop tugging at Jo's jeans, fingers twisting in her panties.
"Come on," Bela huffs out, squirming against the bar. Jo pulls back, wrapping her arms around Bela to pull her off the stool. They wobble for a moment, trying to regain their balance; Bela's skirt still hitched high around her waist. Jo leans in to kiss her, desperate now and trying to make up for all the time that's passed them by. She reaches up to cup Bela's face, one hand sliding back to tangle in her hair, the other thumbing over her cheek as Jo licks into her mouth, moaning at the contact.
Jo's caught off guard when Bela starts nudging her backwards, an awkward fumbling walk that ends with the edge of the pool table hard against Jo's back. She leans away to catch Bela's eyes, curious until she feels Bela pressed close between her legs, hands reaching around to grab at her ass.
"Up," Bela whispers and the soft command has Jo quickly leaning back on her hands to push herself up onto the table. She balances for a moment on the wooden edge, finally slipping back into the felt. Bela tugs Jo towards her, lifting her up so that her hips are sitting on the lip of the table.
Bela makes quick work of her apron ties, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. She meets Jo's gaze when her fingers curl around the waistband of Jo's jeans and starts to pull them off, and Jo finds herself shimmying her hips to speed up the process.
Jo feels exposed spread out on the pool table, light blue panties low on her waist and her shirt pushed up around her bra, but the feeling fades away when Bela smiles at her.
Bela leans over her, kisses her stomach before pulling Jo's panties to the side. She keeps kissing her way down, sucking a mark on Jo's hipbone with a pleased grin.
Jo's legs tense up when Bela licks a path down the inside of her thigh and Bela pins her down with an arm pressed across her hips. It only makes Jo want to buck up more against Bela's mouth, test the limitations that are holding her down.
She does cry out when Bela finally ducks her head down between Jo's legs, loose hair tickling the soft skin and her mouth teasing against Jo's clit. It's too much too soon, after years of harboring this desire. Jo holds her arm over her mouth as her other hand reaches down to tangle in Bela's hair, encouraging her on.
It hits her faster than expected, her legs trembling and she lets a gasp slip out. Bela just sucks harder, her other hand reaching up to slide under Jo's shirt and pushing her bra aside to thumb over her nipple.
Jo's orgasm rocks through her, her body arching up off the table as she tries to muffle the noises escaping from her. She can feel Bela moan, the vibrations shooting through her body as she gasps out. She doesn't want to move afterwards, is ready to pull Bela up next to her until she starts to roll over and lands on the cue ball.
Jo manages to sit up on the edge of the pool table, her legs dangling loosely as she rests her head against Bela's forehead. She's breathless, her body still thrumming from what just happened and she presses a kiss to Bela's temple.
She lets her head drop to Bela's shoulder, her hand reaching down to hike Bela's skirt back up. Jo's fingers slide into her easily and she wraps her legs around Bela's back to draw her in closer.
"Come on, baby," Jo murmurs in her ear and Bela shudders as she comes, grasping on to Jo as her hips jerk up and tight against Jo's hand.
The Roadhouse is silent, most of the light coming from the jukebox and Jo can feel herself starting to doze off, leaning up against Bela. She's not sure how Bela's still standing, just that her breathing isn't quite even enough for her to be asleep.
She kisses the skin behind Bela's ear, a soft nuzzle that earns Jo a low chuckle. It's another few minutes before Bela raises her head to kiss Jo's mouth.
"I can't stay tonight," Bela's voice is apologetic but Jo's stomach still twists at the words. She pulls away to stare at Bela, trying to read the look in her eyes.
"What about for a little while?" Jo keeps her tone hopeful, reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Bela's ear. "Just for a bit."
Bela gnaws on her lower lip for a moment before nodding. "That sounds really good right now," she admits, a raw tone that Jo's never heard from her before.
"Come on then." Jo wriggles forward, the table felt rough on her ass. "My bed'll fit us if we get in close."
Bela moves back, giving Jo enough room to hop down from the table. Jo reaches to grab her jeans and apron from the floor, and reaches out to grab Bela's hand. "I've missed you," she says simply, hoping it's enough to convey everything.
"I've been waiting to find you again," Bela replies, and Jo grins, pressing a kiss to Bela's cheek.