Walk Without Touching the Ground for dreamlittleyo 2/2
Title: Walk Without Touching The Ground
Author: lavendergaia
Recipient: dreamlittleyo
Pairing: John/Jo
Rating: R
Warnings: Some bad language, references to sex but nothing graphic
Summary: After John picks up a girl in a bar, he thought that'd be the end of it. Then he meets Jo Harvelle again.
Word Count: 12,000
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any characters. Title and cut text from Mason Jennings.
Beta: opheliahyde
Notes: I'm so sorry this is late. It was a late pinch hit and then I got very sick and then the word count kind of ran away from me. I tried to put as many of your prompts and wishes in that I possibly could, so I really hope you like it!
The next few days pass slowly for Jo. There was another death and John is out of the house a lot more, bringing the books with him as he goes hunting and he looks at her apologetically whenever he says he’s gonna go check out a lead, like he’s trying to spare her feelings, but it still grates on her as if he’s doing it just to spite her.
Bobby’s not much of a housekeeper so she takes to cleaning, having picked up all the supplies she needed on a giant shopping trip after her mother had left. She plans to get the house so clean that he doesn’t even recognize it. Bobby’s good at seeing other’s worth, her mama always told her that, and maybe he’ll be able to convince her to stay, to learn to hunt, to get the balls to stay her own person away from the protection and captivity of the Roadhouse.
A girl can dream.
Being at Bobby’s gives her a chance to cook more-she doesn’t like it, per say, but she knows that practicing is good and she likes making stuff that takes good, likes John’s smile when he comes home to a hot meal, his little noise of surprise when it doesn’t suck. She likes the smile he gave her when she handed him his clothes from the dryer to fold and sat with him and helped him out, grabbing Bobby’s sewing kit to fix up the innumerable holes. It feels…nice, for a lack of a better term, right.
Then, after she cleans up the breakfast dishes, she goes outside and practices throwing knives at bull’s eyes she carved into the trees because it gets a little June Cleaver sometimes and the last thing she wants to do is convince anyone she’s some little 50’s housewife instead of a hunter.
She’s pretty sure that’s counterproductive.
When John comes home on Thursday, she’s finishing icing the cake and he just sits down at the kitchen table, grunting in annoyance. “I can’t get it. I can’t figure it out.”
She grabs a beer from the fridge and tosses it to him. “Wanna talk it out?”
After nodding his thanks and taking a long gulp, he says, “None of the traps are working and I can’t seem to lure it out, but people are still dying.” She can hear the desperation in his voice, the guilt and frustration and exasperation all layered there.
“What about kappas?” she says lightly and he raises an eyebrow. “Well, you said it was mainly focused on the rivers there in the woods and kappas are water spirits. Some of the books said they’re types of fae in other lore.”
John taps his fingers against the table, thinking hard. “Kappas are from Japan, and I already double checked that it wasn’t some sort of kelpie.”
Shrugging, she covers up the finished cake and puts in next to the fridge. “If a kelpie could get here, why not a kappa? I was watching this Discovery channel show about Florida and about how people kept bringing snakes and stuff over that weren’t indigenous and how they’re killing a lot of the local wildlife even people are trying to save. If you could bring over a forty foot python, why not a kappa?”
He nods slowly. “Kappa, huh? I’ll look into it.”
Looking into the fridge, she tries to hide her proud flush. “Are pork chops good for dinner?”
“Sounds good, Jo.”
There’s this warmth in his voice that makes her turn and he’s smiling at her and she smiles back, and for a second, everything is all right with them. It’s a feeling that she hopes lasts.
After dinner, John goes and raids some of Bobby’s supplies while Jo settles in the library with a book. The quiet is more comfortable than eerie and it’s only interrupted when one of the phones in the kitchen rings. Jo stuck something in the book to mark her spot before getting up and trying to figure out which of the phones was actually the one ringing. “Hello?” she says cautiously as she picked up an unlabeled phone.
“Hey, Jo, it’s me,” Bobby says on the other end of the line. “How’s everything going?”
“You told on me to my mother.” Things were actually going pretty well, but she wasn’t ready to let that go.
He sighs. “I told you that I wasn’t going to lie to her.”
“You could just avoid her phone calls like I do.” It sounds childish even to her, but it had been working really well for her.
“She needed to know that you were okay. I assume you talked to her, then?”
Reaching the phone cord over to the table, Jo sits down and nods. “She came to see me. Tried to make me come with her, but I told you that I promised I’d watch the house for you and I’d come home when you got back.”
“Well, that’s gonna be sooner rather than later. Rufus and I are gonna take care of this thing tonight, so I’ll either be home late tomorrow or sometime the next day.” He hesitates a moment and says, “Did your mom see John?”
“Yeah, he’s still here, thinks he’s got a kappa to take care of.”
“Did they talk?”
She frowns. “John and Mom? Yeah, for a little bit.” Twisting the phone cord around her finger, she clicks her tongue lightly. “Why? Is that bad? Somethin’ to do with why he doesn’t come by the Roadhouse anymore?” Interest stirs in her stomach. She’s never really gotten the full story on that and it seems more important now than it ever has.
Bobby coughs and she can tell he’s feeling awkward. “Just curious. Anyway, I better go. I’ll see you in a few days. Tell John not to drink all my beer.”
Sighing in disappointment, she says, “Yeah, okay. See you then. Bye.”
When she goes searching for John, he’s closing the back of his truck. “I think I got everything to go after that kappa tomorrow,” he says, smiling at her. “Hopefully this’ll be over with. Dean called a little while ago, says he got wind of what might be a werewolf in Maryland.”
Fighting back an overwhelming feeling of jealousy, she smiles at him, knowing it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Great. Want some cake?”
“Cake sounds good,” he says and as they go back into the house, he’s so relaxed that he puts his hand on the small of her back, actively choosing to touch her. It’s not particularly intimate, but she takes what she can get.
She cuts them each a piece of cake and they settle in front of the television, watching an old rerun of Bewitched. “I haven’t seen this in a year,” John says, grinning at some private joke. “Dean can’t stand witches, televised or not.”
Setting her fork down, she watches John instead of the television. “Was it weird to see my mom? I mean, I know it’s been a while for you guys.”
He takes a big bite, chewing slowly, clearly trying to avoid answering her. “It wasn’t something I was expecting. Good cake.”
“Did you guys have a fight or something? When you started not coming back, I mean.”
John stands, stepping over her as he walks back into the hallway. “I need a beer,” he calls back to her and she can hear him opening the refrigerator. When he comes back, he sinks into the couch, drinking deeply. Jo just stares at him as patiently as she can until he finally looks at her and sighs. “Or something. Kind of a fight, but… Shit happens, Jo, especially in this job. It’s not something I really like to think about.”
She nods, hates how he can make her feel like a little girl. “But you talked and no one shot the other.”
He snorts and raises an eyebrow at her. “Which only means your mother has yet to find out we slept together. But wounds heal over time, even if the scars never do. Surprisingly enough, your mom’s not that great at holding long time grudges.”
Dipping her finger into the icing of her cake, she sucked it off thoughtfully. “Is…whatever it is you were fighting about one of the reasons why sleeping with me was a bad idea?”
When he looks at her, there’s pain in his brown eyes. “I’ve done some bad things. And your mother’s a saint for talking to me.” She opened her mouth to interrupt, but he kept going. “No, no, don’t ask me, I won’t tell you. Just know that your mom killing me is…the least of it, sometimes.” He reaches over and takes her hand, holding it loosely. “You are not the reason that we can’t. It’s not you. Don’t think it is.”
Feeling bold, she laces her fingers through his. “If the situation was different…?”
He doesn’t pull away. “Who knows what could happen. But you’re still Bill and Ellen’s daughter, and in a few days you’re going home and I’ll be on my way to Maryland and that’s just how it is.”
Nodding sadly, she gets up from her chair and joins him on the couch, resting her head on his shoulder as their hands stay intertwined. The clock chimes nine and the black and white picture moves in front of them, but the only thing she’s aware of is him.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning was bright and sunny, perfect for going after a kappa. He feels well-rested for the first time in who knows how long and after showering and shaving, he throws on some clothes and starts packing up the things that he’s left around the room. “Need any help?” Jo says from behind him and he pauses, immediately feeling guilty.
“I’ve got it, thanks,” he says, zipping up the last bag and sticking it in the corner.
“Are you not coming back after you deal with the kappa?” She says it lightly, as if it she doesn’t care how he answers, but he sees her brow tense up as she stares at him.
John hesitates, and double-checks to make sure his gun is loaded, just in case. It seems pointless to get a motel room when Bobby’s place is here, especially when he’s low on credit cards. At least he knows that the hot water will work here. And Bobby’s beer was free. “No, I’ll be back,” he says, and tries not to feel like he did something amazing when her face lights up.
Tone significantly more upbeat, she says, “I was thinking omelets for breakfast. Thoughts?”
“Ham, cheese, and green peppers.”
Jo grins, laughing a little. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He watches her in a way he can only describe as affectionately as she goes back into the kitchen. Glancing over at the couch where the spare pillows and blankets were still piled haphazardly, he makes sure to straighten them out, but not put them away. He’ll need them again that night.
By the time he makes it to the kitchen to get the bait for the kappa, Jo is mixing up the eggs in a bowl. “I was going to make bacon, too,” she says over her shoulder. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”
“No one ever minds bacon.” It’s the truth, but it still makes her laugh and a steady warmth grows in his chest as he pulls the vegetables out of the refrigerator and puts them in a plastic bag.
The bacon is already sizzling on the stove and he steps behind her, looking over her shoulder. “Smells good.”
She glances back at him and smiles. He knows he’s standing too close to her, knows that he’s in her personal space, encouraging this…crush or whatever it is. But he stays there, resting one hand lightly on her hip, watching her cook like this is something that he should do. Maybe it’s because it feels like it. Like this is actually where he’s supposed to be.
When she moves to put the omelets in the other pan, he pulls plates out of the cabinet, grabbing silverware and setting the table like his mother taught him. The way Mary liked it. Thinking of her hurt, the way it always did, but he turns and looks at Jo and somehow the ache lessens, just a bit.
Breakfast is great, as usual and as John takes a few more pieces of bacon, he says, “I’m gonna miss home cooked meals.” He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t eaten fast food, or something with a cutesy diner name.
“Well, whenever you wanna stop by the Roadhouse, I’ll make you something,” she says, taking a sip of her juice.
“I might take you up on that,” he says. He wonders whether it’s true. Would Ellen even allow it?
“You should probably get going,” she says at the end of the meal. “That kappa’s not going to kill itself.”
He laughs lightly. “Of course. I’ll see you when it’s dead.”
John takes the bag of vegetables and double checks to make sure he has his keys. As Jo starts clearing the table, she says, “You sure you’re okay to go alone? I mean, if you want some back up…”
It takes a minute for him to truly decide, but then he shakes his head. “I shouldn’t. Thanks for offering though.” She smiles tightly and nods. “I’ll try not to be back too late, Jo.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She waves a little, and he smiles before going out to his truck.
He drove with his cassettes on low, mostly background music to his thoughts. Dean knew not to expect him for a few days-and not to try to take on a werewolf himself; he certainly didn’t want him dead or furry for a few nights a month. It really was best for him to stay at Bobby’s. His friend would be back soon and then everything would go back to normal, but he couldn’t help but admit to himself that he wanted to be there tonight. Maybe that was the worst part.
Most of the deaths had occurred in a small forest outside an even smaller town and John parks the truck under a thick canopy of trees. There are few slits of sunlight filtering down as he walks towards the river and he realizes it’d be harder to get the kappa out in the sunlight where it’s vulnerable. He sets the fresh vegetables a dozen feet from the shore to lure it out, and then hides several yards away behind a large tree. This was his least favorite part of being a hunter: the waiting game.
It’s over an hour later when there’s finally some movement in the lake and John sees the tips of webbed feet crawling out of the water. The shadows from the branches high above them block out any sun and John curses under his breath. This will only make it harder. Luckily, the kappa is being slow as it crawls out and it gives time to make sure the flamethrower is ready.
There’s splashing against the rocks and he frowns at the kappa. Most of the lore called it amphibious, slimy and with a shell reminiscent of a tortoise. While this creature was still green, it had the body of a woman, long stringy hair and breasts that were undoubtedly human. The legs looked like two fishtails, dark and covered with scales.
Once the kappa was fully on land, eating the cucumbers he had laid out, John jumped from behind the tree, shooting out flames. The kappa caught fire slowly, hissing at him, and then jumped back in the water. He curses to himself, thinking he should have let it dry longer, but he didn’t get much of a chance to kick itself before the kappa was leaping out of the water at him.
It was stronger than it looked and he fights to get it off of him, dropping the flame thrower as they wrestle. He manages to get away, but not before it sinks its teeth into his arm. Grunting out loudly, John kicks it away and reaches for his flamethrower. He manages to move a reasonable distance away before letting the flames fly, but it doesn’t seem to affect the kappa anymore than it had the time before.
The kappa stands and moves towards him and John reaches for his gun as two shots rang out, hitting the kappa square in the chest. He looks over his shoulder and Jo is standing between two trees, shotgun aimed at the monster. She catches his eye and holds something shiny up, throwing it at him. “Get it in the middle of the chest!”
John reaches for it, grabbing hold to handle of the knife and jabbing it between the breasts of the monster. It screams and John ignores the flames still lingering on its body to plunge it in as deep as he can. It scratches at him, tries to bite his arm again, but John isn’t having that. Pulling the knife out of his chest, he slices its head off with one strike.
He lets out of satisfied breath as the skull rolls away. A nice beheading was always a good way to end a hunt.
Jo runs towards him, sinking down in the grass. “Are you okay?”
Quickly checking his wounds, he shrugs. “I’ll live, just need to stop the bleeding on this arm.” She helps him take his shirt off and they hold the fabric to the wound. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass, apparently,” she says with a hint of a smirk. When he raises an eyebrow, she focuses back on his arm. “Something about the kappa kept nagging me and I did some research and I read up on necks and how they’re sometimes mistaken for kelpies and kappas.”
“Necks?”
“They’re also known as nix.”
He groans, trying to stand up and leaning on Jo for a second as he gets used to the lightheadedness that always comes with the blood loss. “Of course. And of course those idiots wouldn’t mention the fact that the kappa has breasts.”
Jo helps him grab his stuff as they head back to the cars. “It said that they can be killed by steel, so I thought I’d bring something over just in case.”
It takes a moment for him to get out the words, but he says, “I’m glad you did. Thank you.”
She blushes. “I’m just glad I got here in time.”
“You did good work, Jo. I owe you.”
They don’t say anything else until they make it to the cars and Jo double checks his arm. “Are you okay to drive? This might need stitches.”
Laughing, John shakes his head. “I’ve had worse. I can make it back to Bobby’s.” When he hesitates, he just pushes her towards her own car. “Go. I’ll meet you there. The sooner we leave, the sooner you can stitch me up.”
She doesn’t protest and John is thankful for all the experience he’s had driving while half dead because his arm was definitely still bleeding. He really wishes it was a kappa-kappas don’t bite.
Jo is already inside with the first aid kit by the time John makes his way back and he settles in the recliner with a bottle of whiskey as she gets to fixing him. “You’ve done this before,” he mentions offhand as she disinfects the area.
Simply nodding, she says, “Sometimes guys in the area come in, need some aid. Mom taught me how to do it a long time ago, just in case.”
“Useful.” At first, he watches his stitch, the quick movement in her fingers. His gaze follows up to her face, lips pressed together, hazel eyes narrowed in determination. A lock of hair falls into her eyeline and she brushes it away quickly. All he can think about was how soft it was, running his fingers through it. He attributes it all to the whiskey and the pain and the adrenaline because that was easier to deal with.
After she places a thick bandage on it, she smiles proudly and wipes up the excess blood on his arm with a wet paper towel. “There, all set.” She gathers up the bloody napkins and empty bandage wrappers while he flexes slowly. It hurts, but it’s a thousand times better than when he has to do it himself and he can already tell it’ll heal faster.
Jo washes her hands and then joins him back in the living room. “Can I get you anything? A beer?”
He nods, but grabs her am before she can get away. “How’d you know? About the steel and everything? I don’t remember seeing that in anything.”
She hesitates; clearly weighing her options, and then leaves the room for a second, coming back with a small leather book. As she hands it to John, he can feel tears gathering in his eyes. He’d recognize Bill’s journal anywhere, the small, tight handwriting, the blue pen, and the pictures he’d copied himself.
“It was in there,” Jo says softly, voice barely above a whisper. “He said that he’d mistaken the neck for a kelpie himself and another hunter had thought it was a kappa. I was worried that you made the same mistake.”
He closes the book reverently, handing it back to her. “Your dad would be very proud of you, Jo.”
A stray tear falls down her cheek and she wipes it away quickly. “Really?”
“Really. He would want to share that with you. He’d be honored that you were using his journal.”
She stares down at the book before setting it aside and staring at him instead. “Thank you.”
With his good arm, he reaches up and wraps his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. His lips brush against hers gently and she melts against him, barriers down on all sides. She moves closer until she’s kneeling over him in the chair, his arm snug tightly around her waist. They break apart, and then kiss again, falling deeper and deeper into each other.
Jo sighs against his lips as she pulls away, staring at him with confusion and concern. “Is this because you’re drunk? Or…I mean, if this is thanks for saving my life sex, then I guess I’ll take what I can get, but it’s not what I really want.”
“It’s not,” he says. John brushes a lock of hair behind her ear affectionately. She can’t help but smile. “I think this is exactly what we both need.”
Her response is to kiss him against, and he returns her passion, holding her as close as possible. In this moment, they’re just two hunters, two colleagues, two equals and nothing else mattered.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“I’ll be back in a week, Mom,” Jo says, dropping her bag at the door of the Roadhouse. “No more than two.”
Ellen wipes down another table, pilling the empty beer mugs in the bus bin. “I just wish there was a more definite schedule, that’s all.”
“When’s the last time you went on a trip with a definite schedule?”
“Two completely different kinds of trips and you know that.”
Not as different as she would want, but Jo’s not going to tell her that. “Young women on a road trip? Trust me; a schedule would only ruin the fun.” She checks her watch. It’s only eight-twenty-three, which means she’s obligated to seven more minutes of interrogation before she’s allowed to leave.
“And it’s you, Katie, and Marcia?”
She nods. “You like them, remember?”
Ellen doesn’t deny it as she pours two more beers for customers. “No, no, they’re nice girls.” There’s a pause as she changes her tone to forced-nonchalant. “What about that nice boy I met the other day, Andrew? How about him?”
Jo is clearly the best actress in the family because she doesn’t make a face at the suggestion. “He says he might try to catch up. It’s not really a set guest list, Mom; anyone could come along if they wanted.” And Andrew is nice, but nice…never really her type. If her mother likes Andrew so much, she can date him. And if she wants to think that the guy Jo’s talking to all the time is Andrew well…Jo’s not exactly working to dispel that notion.
It’s eight-twenty-eight and Jo shoulders her duffle bag. “I should go, don’t want to keep everyone waiting.” She kisses her mom’s cheek softly. “Have a good night, Mom.”
“Be careful,” Ellen warns, giving her a hug. “Keep your phone on and charged at all times, and don’t start any trouble that you can’t find your way out of.”
She smiles despite herself. “You got it, Mom. I’ll call when I have a more definite itinerary for you.”
Ellen kisses her forehead. “You’d better. Have fun, baby.”
“Bye, Mom.” She waves on her way out, then walks as quickly as she can to her car, throwing the duffle in the back seat. It’s a half hour drive to Sumpton, but she thinks she can make it in twenty if she doesn’t come across any cops.
The truck is already waiting in the gas station when she gets there and she parks her car in the usual spot and runs over to him. John grins at her. “You made good time.”
Throwing her bag in the back of the truck, Jo reaches up on her toes to give him a soft kiss. “Mom’s starting to freak out less. She thinks I’m dating this nice guy named Andrew.”
John gives her a side eye. “Is that what you told her you were doing?”
“Just the usual trip with girlfriends, broadening my horizons: the boyfriend thing she pretty much pulled out of nowhere.” Well, not nowhere. The constant smile and happy glow were pretty much dead giveaways, according to Katie.
He already has the truck stacked with her favorite soda and snacks and before he pulls away from the station, he holds her hands in his hands, kissing her deeply. “There’s a pretty major haunting over in Gettysburg that’s gotten out of hand. I can drive through the night if you don’t mind sleeping in the car.”
Jo pretends to think about it. “I think it’d be better for both of us if we got a room for the night.”
Raising an eyebrow, John plays along. “You think so?”
“Definitely.” She kisses him again, longer and more passionately before pulling back, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. “I think a room would be a really great idea.”
“I think I agree,” he says in that husky voice that always makes her shiver. John puts the car in gear and Jo curls up next to him, relaxing as he wraps his arm around her shoulders.
Tomorrow they would be hunters, fighting evil and saving lives. Tonight they would just be them.
Author: lavendergaia
Recipient: dreamlittleyo
Pairing: John/Jo
Rating: R
Warnings: Some bad language, references to sex but nothing graphic
Summary: After John picks up a girl in a bar, he thought that'd be the end of it. Then he meets Jo Harvelle again.
Word Count: 12,000
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any characters. Title and cut text from Mason Jennings.
Beta: opheliahyde
Notes: I'm so sorry this is late. It was a late pinch hit and then I got very sick and then the word count kind of ran away from me. I tried to put as many of your prompts and wishes in that I possibly could, so I really hope you like it!
The next few days pass slowly for Jo. There was another death and John is out of the house a lot more, bringing the books with him as he goes hunting and he looks at her apologetically whenever he says he’s gonna go check out a lead, like he’s trying to spare her feelings, but it still grates on her as if he’s doing it just to spite her.
Bobby’s not much of a housekeeper so she takes to cleaning, having picked up all the supplies she needed on a giant shopping trip after her mother had left. She plans to get the house so clean that he doesn’t even recognize it. Bobby’s good at seeing other’s worth, her mama always told her that, and maybe he’ll be able to convince her to stay, to learn to hunt, to get the balls to stay her own person away from the protection and captivity of the Roadhouse.
A girl can dream.
Being at Bobby’s gives her a chance to cook more-she doesn’t like it, per say, but she knows that practicing is good and she likes making stuff that takes good, likes John’s smile when he comes home to a hot meal, his little noise of surprise when it doesn’t suck. She likes the smile he gave her when she handed him his clothes from the dryer to fold and sat with him and helped him out, grabbing Bobby’s sewing kit to fix up the innumerable holes. It feels…nice, for a lack of a better term, right.
Then, after she cleans up the breakfast dishes, she goes outside and practices throwing knives at bull’s eyes she carved into the trees because it gets a little June Cleaver sometimes and the last thing she wants to do is convince anyone she’s some little 50’s housewife instead of a hunter.
She’s pretty sure that’s counterproductive.
When John comes home on Thursday, she’s finishing icing the cake and he just sits down at the kitchen table, grunting in annoyance. “I can’t get it. I can’t figure it out.”
She grabs a beer from the fridge and tosses it to him. “Wanna talk it out?”
After nodding his thanks and taking a long gulp, he says, “None of the traps are working and I can’t seem to lure it out, but people are still dying.” She can hear the desperation in his voice, the guilt and frustration and exasperation all layered there.
“What about kappas?” she says lightly and he raises an eyebrow. “Well, you said it was mainly focused on the rivers there in the woods and kappas are water spirits. Some of the books said they’re types of fae in other lore.”
John taps his fingers against the table, thinking hard. “Kappas are from Japan, and I already double checked that it wasn’t some sort of kelpie.”
Shrugging, she covers up the finished cake and puts in next to the fridge. “If a kelpie could get here, why not a kappa? I was watching this Discovery channel show about Florida and about how people kept bringing snakes and stuff over that weren’t indigenous and how they’re killing a lot of the local wildlife even people are trying to save. If you could bring over a forty foot python, why not a kappa?”
He nods slowly. “Kappa, huh? I’ll look into it.”
Looking into the fridge, she tries to hide her proud flush. “Are pork chops good for dinner?”
“Sounds good, Jo.”
There’s this warmth in his voice that makes her turn and he’s smiling at her and she smiles back, and for a second, everything is all right with them. It’s a feeling that she hopes lasts.
After dinner, John goes and raids some of Bobby’s supplies while Jo settles in the library with a book. The quiet is more comfortable than eerie and it’s only interrupted when one of the phones in the kitchen rings. Jo stuck something in the book to mark her spot before getting up and trying to figure out which of the phones was actually the one ringing. “Hello?” she says cautiously as she picked up an unlabeled phone.
“Hey, Jo, it’s me,” Bobby says on the other end of the line. “How’s everything going?”
“You told on me to my mother.” Things were actually going pretty well, but she wasn’t ready to let that go.
He sighs. “I told you that I wasn’t going to lie to her.”
“You could just avoid her phone calls like I do.” It sounds childish even to her, but it had been working really well for her.
“She needed to know that you were okay. I assume you talked to her, then?”
Reaching the phone cord over to the table, Jo sits down and nods. “She came to see me. Tried to make me come with her, but I told you that I promised I’d watch the house for you and I’d come home when you got back.”
“Well, that’s gonna be sooner rather than later. Rufus and I are gonna take care of this thing tonight, so I’ll either be home late tomorrow or sometime the next day.” He hesitates a moment and says, “Did your mom see John?”
“Yeah, he’s still here, thinks he’s got a kappa to take care of.”
“Did they talk?”
She frowns. “John and Mom? Yeah, for a little bit.” Twisting the phone cord around her finger, she clicks her tongue lightly. “Why? Is that bad? Somethin’ to do with why he doesn’t come by the Roadhouse anymore?” Interest stirs in her stomach. She’s never really gotten the full story on that and it seems more important now than it ever has.
Bobby coughs and she can tell he’s feeling awkward. “Just curious. Anyway, I better go. I’ll see you in a few days. Tell John not to drink all my beer.”
Sighing in disappointment, she says, “Yeah, okay. See you then. Bye.”
When she goes searching for John, he’s closing the back of his truck. “I think I got everything to go after that kappa tomorrow,” he says, smiling at her. “Hopefully this’ll be over with. Dean called a little while ago, says he got wind of what might be a werewolf in Maryland.”
Fighting back an overwhelming feeling of jealousy, she smiles at him, knowing it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Great. Want some cake?”
“Cake sounds good,” he says and as they go back into the house, he’s so relaxed that he puts his hand on the small of her back, actively choosing to touch her. It’s not particularly intimate, but she takes what she can get.
She cuts them each a piece of cake and they settle in front of the television, watching an old rerun of Bewitched. “I haven’t seen this in a year,” John says, grinning at some private joke. “Dean can’t stand witches, televised or not.”
Setting her fork down, she watches John instead of the television. “Was it weird to see my mom? I mean, I know it’s been a while for you guys.”
He takes a big bite, chewing slowly, clearly trying to avoid answering her. “It wasn’t something I was expecting. Good cake.”
“Did you guys have a fight or something? When you started not coming back, I mean.”
John stands, stepping over her as he walks back into the hallway. “I need a beer,” he calls back to her and she can hear him opening the refrigerator. When he comes back, he sinks into the couch, drinking deeply. Jo just stares at him as patiently as she can until he finally looks at her and sighs. “Or something. Kind of a fight, but… Shit happens, Jo, especially in this job. It’s not something I really like to think about.”
She nods, hates how he can make her feel like a little girl. “But you talked and no one shot the other.”
He snorts and raises an eyebrow at her. “Which only means your mother has yet to find out we slept together. But wounds heal over time, even if the scars never do. Surprisingly enough, your mom’s not that great at holding long time grudges.”
Dipping her finger into the icing of her cake, she sucked it off thoughtfully. “Is…whatever it is you were fighting about one of the reasons why sleeping with me was a bad idea?”
When he looks at her, there’s pain in his brown eyes. “I’ve done some bad things. And your mother’s a saint for talking to me.” She opened her mouth to interrupt, but he kept going. “No, no, don’t ask me, I won’t tell you. Just know that your mom killing me is…the least of it, sometimes.” He reaches over and takes her hand, holding it loosely. “You are not the reason that we can’t. It’s not you. Don’t think it is.”
Feeling bold, she laces her fingers through his. “If the situation was different…?”
He doesn’t pull away. “Who knows what could happen. But you’re still Bill and Ellen’s daughter, and in a few days you’re going home and I’ll be on my way to Maryland and that’s just how it is.”
Nodding sadly, she gets up from her chair and joins him on the couch, resting her head on his shoulder as their hands stay intertwined. The clock chimes nine and the black and white picture moves in front of them, but the only thing she’s aware of is him.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning was bright and sunny, perfect for going after a kappa. He feels well-rested for the first time in who knows how long and after showering and shaving, he throws on some clothes and starts packing up the things that he’s left around the room. “Need any help?” Jo says from behind him and he pauses, immediately feeling guilty.
“I’ve got it, thanks,” he says, zipping up the last bag and sticking it in the corner.
“Are you not coming back after you deal with the kappa?” She says it lightly, as if it she doesn’t care how he answers, but he sees her brow tense up as she stares at him.
John hesitates, and double-checks to make sure his gun is loaded, just in case. It seems pointless to get a motel room when Bobby’s place is here, especially when he’s low on credit cards. At least he knows that the hot water will work here. And Bobby’s beer was free. “No, I’ll be back,” he says, and tries not to feel like he did something amazing when her face lights up.
Tone significantly more upbeat, she says, “I was thinking omelets for breakfast. Thoughts?”
“Ham, cheese, and green peppers.”
Jo grins, laughing a little. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He watches her in a way he can only describe as affectionately as she goes back into the kitchen. Glancing over at the couch where the spare pillows and blankets were still piled haphazardly, he makes sure to straighten them out, but not put them away. He’ll need them again that night.
By the time he makes it to the kitchen to get the bait for the kappa, Jo is mixing up the eggs in a bowl. “I was going to make bacon, too,” she says over her shoulder. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”
“No one ever minds bacon.” It’s the truth, but it still makes her laugh and a steady warmth grows in his chest as he pulls the vegetables out of the refrigerator and puts them in a plastic bag.
The bacon is already sizzling on the stove and he steps behind her, looking over her shoulder. “Smells good.”
She glances back at him and smiles. He knows he’s standing too close to her, knows that he’s in her personal space, encouraging this…crush or whatever it is. But he stays there, resting one hand lightly on her hip, watching her cook like this is something that he should do. Maybe it’s because it feels like it. Like this is actually where he’s supposed to be.
When she moves to put the omelets in the other pan, he pulls plates out of the cabinet, grabbing silverware and setting the table like his mother taught him. The way Mary liked it. Thinking of her hurt, the way it always did, but he turns and looks at Jo and somehow the ache lessens, just a bit.
Breakfast is great, as usual and as John takes a few more pieces of bacon, he says, “I’m gonna miss home cooked meals.” He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t eaten fast food, or something with a cutesy diner name.
“Well, whenever you wanna stop by the Roadhouse, I’ll make you something,” she says, taking a sip of her juice.
“I might take you up on that,” he says. He wonders whether it’s true. Would Ellen even allow it?
“You should probably get going,” she says at the end of the meal. “That kappa’s not going to kill itself.”
He laughs lightly. “Of course. I’ll see you when it’s dead.”
John takes the bag of vegetables and double checks to make sure he has his keys. As Jo starts clearing the table, she says, “You sure you’re okay to go alone? I mean, if you want some back up…”
It takes a minute for him to truly decide, but then he shakes his head. “I shouldn’t. Thanks for offering though.” She smiles tightly and nods. “I’ll try not to be back too late, Jo.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.” She waves a little, and he smiles before going out to his truck.
He drove with his cassettes on low, mostly background music to his thoughts. Dean knew not to expect him for a few days-and not to try to take on a werewolf himself; he certainly didn’t want him dead or furry for a few nights a month. It really was best for him to stay at Bobby’s. His friend would be back soon and then everything would go back to normal, but he couldn’t help but admit to himself that he wanted to be there tonight. Maybe that was the worst part.
Most of the deaths had occurred in a small forest outside an even smaller town and John parks the truck under a thick canopy of trees. There are few slits of sunlight filtering down as he walks towards the river and he realizes it’d be harder to get the kappa out in the sunlight where it’s vulnerable. He sets the fresh vegetables a dozen feet from the shore to lure it out, and then hides several yards away behind a large tree. This was his least favorite part of being a hunter: the waiting game.
It’s over an hour later when there’s finally some movement in the lake and John sees the tips of webbed feet crawling out of the water. The shadows from the branches high above them block out any sun and John curses under his breath. This will only make it harder. Luckily, the kappa is being slow as it crawls out and it gives time to make sure the flamethrower is ready.
There’s splashing against the rocks and he frowns at the kappa. Most of the lore called it amphibious, slimy and with a shell reminiscent of a tortoise. While this creature was still green, it had the body of a woman, long stringy hair and breasts that were undoubtedly human. The legs looked like two fishtails, dark and covered with scales.
Once the kappa was fully on land, eating the cucumbers he had laid out, John jumped from behind the tree, shooting out flames. The kappa caught fire slowly, hissing at him, and then jumped back in the water. He curses to himself, thinking he should have let it dry longer, but he didn’t get much of a chance to kick itself before the kappa was leaping out of the water at him.
It was stronger than it looked and he fights to get it off of him, dropping the flame thrower as they wrestle. He manages to get away, but not before it sinks its teeth into his arm. Grunting out loudly, John kicks it away and reaches for his flamethrower. He manages to move a reasonable distance away before letting the flames fly, but it doesn’t seem to affect the kappa anymore than it had the time before.
The kappa stands and moves towards him and John reaches for his gun as two shots rang out, hitting the kappa square in the chest. He looks over his shoulder and Jo is standing between two trees, shotgun aimed at the monster. She catches his eye and holds something shiny up, throwing it at him. “Get it in the middle of the chest!”
John reaches for it, grabbing hold to handle of the knife and jabbing it between the breasts of the monster. It screams and John ignores the flames still lingering on its body to plunge it in as deep as he can. It scratches at him, tries to bite his arm again, but John isn’t having that. Pulling the knife out of his chest, he slices its head off with one strike.
He lets out of satisfied breath as the skull rolls away. A nice beheading was always a good way to end a hunt.
Jo runs towards him, sinking down in the grass. “Are you okay?”
Quickly checking his wounds, he shrugs. “I’ll live, just need to stop the bleeding on this arm.” She helps him take his shirt off and they hold the fabric to the wound. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving your ass, apparently,” she says with a hint of a smirk. When he raises an eyebrow, she focuses back on his arm. “Something about the kappa kept nagging me and I did some research and I read up on necks and how they’re sometimes mistaken for kelpies and kappas.”
“Necks?”
“They’re also known as nix.”
He groans, trying to stand up and leaning on Jo for a second as he gets used to the lightheadedness that always comes with the blood loss. “Of course. And of course those idiots wouldn’t mention the fact that the kappa has breasts.”
Jo helps him grab his stuff as they head back to the cars. “It said that they can be killed by steel, so I thought I’d bring something over just in case.”
It takes a moment for him to get out the words, but he says, “I’m glad you did. Thank you.”
She blushes. “I’m just glad I got here in time.”
“You did good work, Jo. I owe you.”
They don’t say anything else until they make it to the cars and Jo double checks his arm. “Are you okay to drive? This might need stitches.”
Laughing, John shakes his head. “I’ve had worse. I can make it back to Bobby’s.” When he hesitates, he just pushes her towards her own car. “Go. I’ll meet you there. The sooner we leave, the sooner you can stitch me up.”
She doesn’t protest and John is thankful for all the experience he’s had driving while half dead because his arm was definitely still bleeding. He really wishes it was a kappa-kappas don’t bite.
Jo is already inside with the first aid kit by the time John makes his way back and he settles in the recliner with a bottle of whiskey as she gets to fixing him. “You’ve done this before,” he mentions offhand as she disinfects the area.
Simply nodding, she says, “Sometimes guys in the area come in, need some aid. Mom taught me how to do it a long time ago, just in case.”
“Useful.” At first, he watches his stitch, the quick movement in her fingers. His gaze follows up to her face, lips pressed together, hazel eyes narrowed in determination. A lock of hair falls into her eyeline and she brushes it away quickly. All he can think about was how soft it was, running his fingers through it. He attributes it all to the whiskey and the pain and the adrenaline because that was easier to deal with.
After she places a thick bandage on it, she smiles proudly and wipes up the excess blood on his arm with a wet paper towel. “There, all set.” She gathers up the bloody napkins and empty bandage wrappers while he flexes slowly. It hurts, but it’s a thousand times better than when he has to do it himself and he can already tell it’ll heal faster.
Jo washes her hands and then joins him back in the living room. “Can I get you anything? A beer?”
He nods, but grabs her am before she can get away. “How’d you know? About the steel and everything? I don’t remember seeing that in anything.”
She hesitates; clearly weighing her options, and then leaves the room for a second, coming back with a small leather book. As she hands it to John, he can feel tears gathering in his eyes. He’d recognize Bill’s journal anywhere, the small, tight handwriting, the blue pen, and the pictures he’d copied himself.
“It was in there,” Jo says softly, voice barely above a whisper. “He said that he’d mistaken the neck for a kelpie himself and another hunter had thought it was a kappa. I was worried that you made the same mistake.”
He closes the book reverently, handing it back to her. “Your dad would be very proud of you, Jo.”
A stray tear falls down her cheek and she wipes it away quickly. “Really?”
“Really. He would want to share that with you. He’d be honored that you were using his journal.”
She stares down at the book before setting it aside and staring at him instead. “Thank you.”
With his good arm, he reaches up and wraps his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. His lips brush against hers gently and she melts against him, barriers down on all sides. She moves closer until she’s kneeling over him in the chair, his arm snug tightly around her waist. They break apart, and then kiss again, falling deeper and deeper into each other.
Jo sighs against his lips as she pulls away, staring at him with confusion and concern. “Is this because you’re drunk? Or…I mean, if this is thanks for saving my life sex, then I guess I’ll take what I can get, but it’s not what I really want.”
“It’s not,” he says. John brushes a lock of hair behind her ear affectionately. She can’t help but smile. “I think this is exactly what we both need.”
Her response is to kiss him against, and he returns her passion, holding her as close as possible. In this moment, they’re just two hunters, two colleagues, two equals and nothing else mattered.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“I’ll be back in a week, Mom,” Jo says, dropping her bag at the door of the Roadhouse. “No more than two.”
Ellen wipes down another table, pilling the empty beer mugs in the bus bin. “I just wish there was a more definite schedule, that’s all.”
“When’s the last time you went on a trip with a definite schedule?”
“Two completely different kinds of trips and you know that.”
Not as different as she would want, but Jo’s not going to tell her that. “Young women on a road trip? Trust me; a schedule would only ruin the fun.” She checks her watch. It’s only eight-twenty-three, which means she’s obligated to seven more minutes of interrogation before she’s allowed to leave.
“And it’s you, Katie, and Marcia?”
She nods. “You like them, remember?”
Ellen doesn’t deny it as she pours two more beers for customers. “No, no, they’re nice girls.” There’s a pause as she changes her tone to forced-nonchalant. “What about that nice boy I met the other day, Andrew? How about him?”
Jo is clearly the best actress in the family because she doesn’t make a face at the suggestion. “He says he might try to catch up. It’s not really a set guest list, Mom; anyone could come along if they wanted.” And Andrew is nice, but nice…never really her type. If her mother likes Andrew so much, she can date him. And if she wants to think that the guy Jo’s talking to all the time is Andrew well…Jo’s not exactly working to dispel that notion.
It’s eight-twenty-eight and Jo shoulders her duffle bag. “I should go, don’t want to keep everyone waiting.” She kisses her mom’s cheek softly. “Have a good night, Mom.”
“Be careful,” Ellen warns, giving her a hug. “Keep your phone on and charged at all times, and don’t start any trouble that you can’t find your way out of.”
She smiles despite herself. “You got it, Mom. I’ll call when I have a more definite itinerary for you.”
Ellen kisses her forehead. “You’d better. Have fun, baby.”
“Bye, Mom.” She waves on her way out, then walks as quickly as she can to her car, throwing the duffle in the back seat. It’s a half hour drive to Sumpton, but she thinks she can make it in twenty if she doesn’t come across any cops.
The truck is already waiting in the gas station when she gets there and she parks her car in the usual spot and runs over to him. John grins at her. “You made good time.”
Throwing her bag in the back of the truck, Jo reaches up on her toes to give him a soft kiss. “Mom’s starting to freak out less. She thinks I’m dating this nice guy named Andrew.”
John gives her a side eye. “Is that what you told her you were doing?”
“Just the usual trip with girlfriends, broadening my horizons: the boyfriend thing she pretty much pulled out of nowhere.” Well, not nowhere. The constant smile and happy glow were pretty much dead giveaways, according to Katie.
He already has the truck stacked with her favorite soda and snacks and before he pulls away from the station, he holds her hands in his hands, kissing her deeply. “There’s a pretty major haunting over in Gettysburg that’s gotten out of hand. I can drive through the night if you don’t mind sleeping in the car.”
Jo pretends to think about it. “I think it’d be better for both of us if we got a room for the night.”
Raising an eyebrow, John plays along. “You think so?”
“Definitely.” She kisses him again, longer and more passionately before pulling back, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. “I think a room would be a really great idea.”
“I think I agree,” he says in that husky voice that always makes her shiver. John puts the car in gear and Jo curls up next to him, relaxing as he wraps his arm around her shoulders.
Tomorrow they would be hunters, fighting evil and saving lives. Tonight they would just be them.