How It Was, How It Should Be 1/1 - Pg13 - SPN/BtVS
Title: How It Is, How It Should Be
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.
Spoilers: Season 2 of SPN.
Claim: SPN/Crossovers at 100songs
Prompt 1: Dare You To Move - Switchfoot
Notes: For the 20 Minutes at the Roadhouse challenge at tthfanfic.com Unbeta’d, because that’s how we roll with our 20 Minute Challenges. Start: 3.11pm, End: 3.31pm
Summary: She was doing the right thing and her momma would see that one day. She’d be the kind of hero that her daddy had been.
~*~*~
Welcome to the fallout // Welcome to resistance // The tension is here // Tension is here // Between who you are and who you could be // Between how it is and how it should be
~*~*~
The bar was quiet when Jo came out, pack slung over her shoulder, face washed and scrubbed of the tear tracks that had become a permanent part of it since three days ago, when she’d made her intentions clear.
Fuck. Her momma wasn’t even here to say goodbye and that stung. She hadn’t really thought that this would be the way it would go down, that she’d just up and go without getting a chance to say something. Sure, she wasn’t going that far. Not far at all, all things considered. And it wasn’t like she was rushing headlong in to danger, not that she could convince her mother of that much. So it wasn’t like there was any reason for her to be thinking that this was her last chance to say something to her momma, because it wasn’t.
Didn’t make the pain any less.
She heard a car pull up out front and looked out through narrow, yellowed glass out into the lot. It wasn’t a car she recognized, but the person behind the wheel was someone she knew well enough. A representative of this group that had offered her a job. A real honest-to-God job doing what she wanted to be doing, minus some of the risk that had always had her momma up in arms every time she’d try to work a case by herself. Or, hell, even with Dean and Sam - not that she wanted to think about them At. All.
Running a hand along the old, worn bar top, Jo couldn’t help but remember the fight with her momma the night before. Right here, at the bar. Oh, the hunters had long been gone for the night and it was as private as things around here got, with Ash doing God only knew what in the back, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing when her momma dressed her down something fierce.
”You think you’re ready for this?” her momma had snapped. “To go out there and play with the big boys? Jo, you don’t know what you’re doing! You don’t have the slightest clue!”
“If I don’t have a clue, its because you never let me have one,” she’d given just as good as she got.
And there’d been tears. Hot, angry tears from both her momma and her; but in the end those tears hadn’t changed a damned thing. She was going off to do this. Hunting was in her blood - why couldn’t her momma see that? She’d grown up around all of this. Her dad had been a hunter and her momma ran a roadhouse where hunters came to unwind, share stories, check up on rumors, or maybe find a new job.
This was all that Jo had ever known. Oh, she’d tried the college thing, but that hadn’t worked out so well. She hadn’t finished because she just couldn’t fit in. While other girls carried mace at night on campus, Jo had carried a knife, strapped to her arm, just under her sleeve, with another in her back pocket, folded up, ready to be used if she needed it.
Why was it so hard for her momma to see that Jo was only what she’d been brought up to be. Nothing more or less. Her need to do this, to be a part of it all, could just as easily be pinned on her momma if it had to be, for letting her grow up around all of this. Not that Jo would ever go pointing blame when her momma might damned well bite off the finger that did the pointing.
She scratched at the bar top with her nails, the sound loud in the deserted bar. Behind the counter the bottles were lined up and glasses were washed, just waiting for them to open. It was still early yet. Her momma would have to be by in another hour, to get things ready for that night, to take care of any stragglers that wandered in during the day, and just because her momma really didn’t have anything else to do than be here. Jo knew if she stayed around that long, she’d get to see her.
But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to wait around for someone that didn’t want to see her.
”It’s a mistake, Jo,” her mother had said, as their fight wound down, looking far more tired than Jo thought she’d ever seen her look.
“But it’s my mistake to make.”
If she passed this up - if she let this offer go by without so much as giving it a try - then she was stupid, plain and simple. It was better than going out half-cocked like most of the hunters she’d seen wander through the doors over the years. These people they… they knew what they were doing. They had resources and the know-how to fight this fight, to save people and make this world something close to being a better place.
Jo wanted a part of that. So she’d taken the business card that representative had given her that night, when he was just passing through. She’d taken it and stared at it, held it in her hand until she knew every word, every weave of the paper that it was printed on.
And then she’d called them, said that she wanted what they had to offer.
The pack was heavy on her back when she turned to the front door, letting herself out into the midday sun. It was too bright and her eyes were still dry from the crying she’d done the night before; that she refused to do right now.
“Hey, Andrew,” she greeted, forcing herself to smile. He was all grins and hellos, rattling on and on to her about how much she was going to like it at the Council House, about how she’d make a great Watcher, he just knew it.
She dropped her pack in the backseat and crawled into the front, already tuning him out. The door shut, dust rising as Andrew pulled them out and away from the Roadhouse.
Jo almost looked back, just to see…
… well, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to see.
Didn’t matter, though, because she didn’t look back.
She was doing the right thing and her momma would see that one day. She’d be the kind of hero that her daddy had been.
This was how it should be
END
Author: Jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.
Spoilers: Season 2 of SPN.
Claim: SPN/Crossovers at 100songs
Prompt 1: Dare You To Move - Switchfoot
Notes: For the 20 Minutes at the Roadhouse challenge at tthfanfic.com Unbeta’d, because that’s how we roll with our 20 Minute Challenges. Start: 3.11pm, End: 3.31pm
Summary: She was doing the right thing and her momma would see that one day. She’d be the kind of hero that her daddy had been.
~*~*~
Welcome to the fallout // Welcome to resistance // The tension is here // Tension is here // Between who you are and who you could be // Between how it is and how it should be
~*~*~
The bar was quiet when Jo came out, pack slung over her shoulder, face washed and scrubbed of the tear tracks that had become a permanent part of it since three days ago, when she’d made her intentions clear.
Fuck. Her momma wasn’t even here to say goodbye and that stung. She hadn’t really thought that this would be the way it would go down, that she’d just up and go without getting a chance to say something. Sure, she wasn’t going that far. Not far at all, all things considered. And it wasn’t like she was rushing headlong in to danger, not that she could convince her mother of that much. So it wasn’t like there was any reason for her to be thinking that this was her last chance to say something to her momma, because it wasn’t.
Didn’t make the pain any less.
She heard a car pull up out front and looked out through narrow, yellowed glass out into the lot. It wasn’t a car she recognized, but the person behind the wheel was someone she knew well enough. A representative of this group that had offered her a job. A real honest-to-God job doing what she wanted to be doing, minus some of the risk that had always had her momma up in arms every time she’d try to work a case by herself. Or, hell, even with Dean and Sam - not that she wanted to think about them At. All.
Running a hand along the old, worn bar top, Jo couldn’t help but remember the fight with her momma the night before. Right here, at the bar. Oh, the hunters had long been gone for the night and it was as private as things around here got, with Ash doing God only knew what in the back, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing when her momma dressed her down something fierce.
”You think you’re ready for this?” her momma had snapped. “To go out there and play with the big boys? Jo, you don’t know what you’re doing! You don’t have the slightest clue!”
“If I don’t have a clue, its because you never let me have one,” she’d given just as good as she got.
And there’d been tears. Hot, angry tears from both her momma and her; but in the end those tears hadn’t changed a damned thing. She was going off to do this. Hunting was in her blood - why couldn’t her momma see that? She’d grown up around all of this. Her dad had been a hunter and her momma ran a roadhouse where hunters came to unwind, share stories, check up on rumors, or maybe find a new job.
This was all that Jo had ever known. Oh, she’d tried the college thing, but that hadn’t worked out so well. She hadn’t finished because she just couldn’t fit in. While other girls carried mace at night on campus, Jo had carried a knife, strapped to her arm, just under her sleeve, with another in her back pocket, folded up, ready to be used if she needed it.
Why was it so hard for her momma to see that Jo was only what she’d been brought up to be. Nothing more or less. Her need to do this, to be a part of it all, could just as easily be pinned on her momma if it had to be, for letting her grow up around all of this. Not that Jo would ever go pointing blame when her momma might damned well bite off the finger that did the pointing.
She scratched at the bar top with her nails, the sound loud in the deserted bar. Behind the counter the bottles were lined up and glasses were washed, just waiting for them to open. It was still early yet. Her momma would have to be by in another hour, to get things ready for that night, to take care of any stragglers that wandered in during the day, and just because her momma really didn’t have anything else to do than be here. Jo knew if she stayed around that long, she’d get to see her.
But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to wait around for someone that didn’t want to see her.
”It’s a mistake, Jo,” her mother had said, as their fight wound down, looking far more tired than Jo thought she’d ever seen her look.
“But it’s my mistake to make.”
If she passed this up - if she let this offer go by without so much as giving it a try - then she was stupid, plain and simple. It was better than going out half-cocked like most of the hunters she’d seen wander through the doors over the years. These people they… they knew what they were doing. They had resources and the know-how to fight this fight, to save people and make this world something close to being a better place.
Jo wanted a part of that. So she’d taken the business card that representative had given her that night, when he was just passing through. She’d taken it and stared at it, held it in her hand until she knew every word, every weave of the paper that it was printed on.
And then she’d called them, said that she wanted what they had to offer.
The pack was heavy on her back when she turned to the front door, letting herself out into the midday sun. It was too bright and her eyes were still dry from the crying she’d done the night before; that she refused to do right now.
“Hey, Andrew,” she greeted, forcing herself to smile. He was all grins and hellos, rattling on and on to her about how much she was going to like it at the Council House, about how she’d make a great Watcher, he just knew it.
She dropped her pack in the backseat and crawled into the front, already tuning him out. The door shut, dust rising as Andrew pulled them out and away from the Roadhouse.
Jo almost looked back, just to see…
… well, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to see.
Didn’t matter, though, because she didn’t look back.
She was doing the right thing and her momma would see that one day. She’d be the kind of hero that her daddy had been.
This was how it should be
END