That much further west [for coyotesuspect, 5200 words]
Title: That much further west
Author/Artist: bloodnfire
Recipient: coyotesuspect
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some violence.
Pairing: Jo/Kat
Summary: Girl meets girl on hunt. Girls hunt evil together. About ten miles out of town Jo spots her, slowly walking along the side of the road with her thumb out and duffel bag slung over each shoulder, weighing down her small frame.
Notes: Many thanks to smallcaps for the beta! I am sosososo sorry that this took so long! It was eaten by my computer not once, but twice. :( As an apology to coyotesuspect she gets a bonus!gift of an accompanying fanmix.
The earth is soft beneath Jo's feet, her boots sinking into the ground with each step, making a sick squelching sound every time she pulls them free. The ground is dark and stained, but with nothing but the pale starlight that filters through the trees overhead she can't tell if it's just mud or a sign that she's too late. Again. This thing's been preying on the town's teenage population. The youngest victim - Alison, Jo reminds herself - was thirteen years old, snatched from her first school dance. Jo visited her parents as an older sister of one of their daughter’s friends, offering condolences. Red eyed, Alison's mother had shown her the last picture ever taken of her; smiling in her purple dress. Jo hasn't been able to get her face out of her head since she figured out what happened to her. Torn open and eaten insides first. All they found of her was a pile of skin and bones, rags of purple fabric left bloody all around her, in the woods across from the school. The other two were the same; blood and bone left fertilizing the earth, terrorizing the locals and puzzling the cops. Bear attack, that's what they put on the coroner's reports.
The trees start to thin out, letting a little more light through and Jo knows she's coming up to the clearing where the last remains were found. She adjusts her grip on the long knife she's carrying. Pure silver, supposed to be the best way to take this bastard down. There's a loud crunching of branches ahead of her, a yell and a thud of bodies making impact. Jo takes off running, darting between the trees, jumping over stray roots, please please please don't be too late playing on a loop through her head.
Breaking through the tree line, she sees it; tall and almost skeletal. All teeth and claws, bearing down on a body slumped against a tree. Jo throws herself at it, knife raised, slicing into its forearm but it's just a hit, not a kill. It swipes at her, claws barely an inch away from tearing her belly open, slamming her into the ground. The way she lands jars her wrist, sending her knife skidding away as the creature descends on her, jaws snapping. She manages to get her legs up, force of her feet against its torso the only thing keeping it back, but it swipes it her with its claws and she twists her head out of the way.
There's a gunshot and a yelp of pain. Its grip on her loosens and Jo takes the opportunity to kick it back, rolling to the side, away from teeth and claws. There's another shot, and it disappears into the trees. The body that was slumped against the tree is now standing; a girl with blond hair and a shotgun in both hands. She's looking around, wide eyed, scrabbling to load another round before it attacks again. Jo gets her legs back under her, retrieving her blade.
"You okay?" the girl asks, eyes darting to Jo and settling on her knife and nods slightly to herself. Jo guesses that she's pegged Jo the same way Jo has her. Hunter.
"Yeah, thanks," Jo replies, lifts the blade. "Silver, it'll do more damage than those bullets."
“Will it kill it?” she asks.
“It better,” Jo says, licking her dry lips; tasting dirt and blood.
It’s silent, just the sound of their breathing, ragged and out of sync, then there’s a snarl in the trees behind the girl; she stiffens and then seems to force herself into action. They fall in back to back; Jo flexes her fingers, tightens her grip. She cocks her gun, Jo raises her knife and they wait. The Hidebehind is a stealth killer, renowned for its silence, but now it’s wounded, making it clumsy and Jo hears the crunch of leaves before it lashes out at her. Slice of claws, long thin limbs and it’s gone again; Jo slashes at it, but she’s not quick enough.
“Damn,” Jo mutters. Next time she’ll be faster. She’ll put this son of a bitch in the ground. It attacks from the side this time; bursts out of the trees, bleeding and snarling.
“I’ll distract it, you make it dead!” Wide Eyes says, leveling her shot gun.
Jo doesn’t hesitate, darts straight towards it. It swipes at her with a talon, but the gun fires, bullet going through its leg, throwing off the attack. Times like this, Jo is glad of her size; darting under its claws and teeth. Another shot, a wounded growl, but Jo doesn’t let it distract her. She charges up, sinking her blade hilt deep in its bony chest. The Hidebehind shrieks and thrashes, claws raking her arm, and finally it slumps forward. Jo rolls to the side, narrowly avoiding it collapsing on her, covered in its blood.
“Oh my god,” the girl breathes, taking a few steps closer and nudging the motionless corpse with her gun.
“It’s dead.” Jo nods, still lying in the mud. Her arm is throbbing and it kind of hurts to breathe, but she feels a grin spread across her face.
“So,” says the girl, offering Jo a hand. “I’m Kat.”
“Jo,” she says, taking Kat’s hand and pulling herself up. “Nice work.”
***
They pick their way back through the woods together, Hidebehind nothing but a pile of ashes in the clearing now.
“You need a ride somewhere?” Jo asks when they make it back to the beat up scrap metal she affectionately calls her car.
“Yeah,” Kat nods. “I’m staying at the Horizon, it’s not far.”
Jo’s thankful that the town is dead after ten pm; Kat has sweat and dirt smeared across her face, and Jo looks like she just stepped out of a bad horror movie. Even in the car they’d be sure to call attention to themselves. Jo drops Kat off then heads to her motel across town.
As soon as the door is locked behind her she peels off her blood-sticky shirt, wincing when it clings to the claw wounds on her arm. She cleans those off first; not deep enough to need stitches, just disinfectant and a bandage, but that’s gonna wait until she’s showered.
The hot water stings her various scrapes and bruises, but her muscles practically sigh in relief. When Jo finally leaves the bathroom, bandaged and clean and sore, she drops the thin towel to the floor and crawls, naked, into bed.
***
Jo packs up the next day; loads her box of books and bag of weapons back into the trunk of her car, duffel full of clothes tossed carelessly into the backseat. There’s a postcard tucked into one of the pockets, written in an untidy scrawl, but she has no address to send it to.
Stopping at a diner on her way out of town, Jo orders a burger and a cup of coffee. The coffee is bitter and the burger’s too greasy for her tastes but she downs them in minutes and takes up the waitress’ offer of second cup to take away. Two deputies from the sheriff’s department are coming in as Jo’s leaving; one of them holds the door for her and she hears a snippet of their conversation - charred ground in the woods where the bodies of those kids were found, looks like someone had themselves a bonfire. She smiles a little to herself as the door shuts behind her with a cheerful jingle.
She drives with the windows rolled down, wind blowing her hair back and cooling her skin. The radio’s not picking up anything but static and talkback, so she contents herself with the sound of the engine and the road under her wheels. About ten miles out of town Jo spots her, slowly walking along the side of the road with her thumb out and duffel bag slung over each shoulder, weighing down her small frame. Jo slows to a stop; she doesn’t bother pulling onto the shoulder, there are no other cars in sight.
“Hey,” she says, leaning out the open window. “I’d tell you it ain’t safe to hitchhike these days if I didn’t know what was in that bag.”
“Good thing you do,” Kat replies, letting one of her bags drop to the ground. “Otherwise I’d have to tell you that I can take care of myself.” Her blond hair is gathered up in a pony tail but a few wisps have escaped it, falling around her face and the back of her neck.
“I don’t doubt it,” Jo says, smiling wide and Kat returns it with a smaller curve of her lips.
“So, did you just stop to chat or are you offering me a ride. Again.” Kat asks and Jo cocks an eyebrow at the passenger door. Kat tosses her bags in the back with Jo’s, and slips in to the front beside her.
“Where you heading?” Jo asks as she starts the engine.
“Haven’t got that far yet,” Kat says, leaning back in her seat; loose strands of hair whipping around her face.
Jo nods, considering, then says, “There’s a vampire nest up in Benton County, if you’re up for another hunt.”
“Vampires?” Kat says, sounding a little awed and Jo wonders just how long she’s been in the game. “Hell, yeah, I’m in!”
The road stretches out in front of them, open and endless. Jo guns the engine.
***
The four fangs are holed up in a farmhouse; it’d be a pretty nice place, quaint and pleasant, if it wasn’t for the boarded up windows. It’s the only place for miles, at the end of a long dirt road. They walk down it side by side, machetes in hand, air heavy and humid and the sun blazing down, feet scuffing up a cloud of dust that follows behind them. Jo tosses her hair over her shoulder; its weight makes sweat prick up at the back of her neck. Kat’s long hair is scooped up and secured with a scrunchie, bouncing with each step she takes.
Turns out Kat is pretty handy with a machete as well as a shot gun. Jo gave her the run down on the drive; take off the head, watch out for the teeth, anything goes wrong get your ass outta there and into the sunlight.
They take out two of the vamps while they’re still sleeping, a quick chop chop each and the heads go rolling. Roused by the sound, the other two come barreling into the room; a girl and a guy. The girl lunges for Kat’s throat while the guy slams Jo into the wall. She plays stunned, surging up when he turns toward his girlfriend, her serrated blade slicing through his neck. Jo turns to help Kat, but she’s holding her own. She slashes the vampire in the leg, sending her to her knees before hacking her head off in two blows. The smell of blood is thick in the air, freshly spilled and something meatier that Jo thinks might be the house’s former inhabitants.
Kat meets her eyes from the across the room and says, “Guess we better clean up, huh?”
***
“Vampires,” Kat says in a half whisper for the fourth time, slamming her beer bottle down on the table of the only bar in the first town they came to. “I feel like Buffy, or something.”
“I never liked that show,” says Jo, taking a sip of her own beer. “They got so much wrong, I couldn’t get into it. But I wasn’t much of a TV fan growing up.”
Kat blinks, “Just how long have you, y’know, known?”
Neither of them has brought this up before. The past can be a painful subject in the hunting world, Jo knows first hand, and some people keep their tragedies close to the chest.
“Grew up around it,” Jo replies after a moment. “Lot of hunters passed through my parents roadhouse; their stories were my fairy tales.“
“Roadhouse,” Recognition clicks on Kat’s face. “Harvelle’s?”
“That’s me,” Jo raises her bottle in a faux salute.
“I stopped in there a couple of times when I was getting started,” Kat says. “Before - oh shit, I’m sorry.”
Jo shrugs, takes a long swig and feels her shoulders tense up.
“My mom got out, makes us luckier than the rest.” Jo remembers when she heard, news spreading like wildfire through the hunting community; no survivors they were saying and Jo had sat on the hard mattress in her motel room and stared at her phone like a lifeline. Then, after the longest hours of her life, her mom called her from Bobby Singer’s and Jo thought the relief might make her heart explode. She’d felt like a little girl, voice coming out small and frightened when she said, “Ash,” and her mother’s voice cracked.
She puts down her bottle and forcibly brightens.
“Well, I showed you mine…”
“Alright,” Kat says, looking a little relieved. “It was a couple of years ago, in my senior year. My boyfriend thought the best way to get into my pants would be taking me to this old asylum, there were all these rumours and stories about it. Turns out they were true.”
“They often are.”
“We would’ve been dead if these two guys hadn’t showed up and saved us. And, well, that’s not really something you forget.”
“What about the boyfriend?” Jo asks with a grin.
“You kidding? I kicked his ass to the curb.” Kat says, smiling wide. “I could never settle after that, so I stuck around til graduation; waited tables and saved money. Told my parents I wanted to take a road trip before college. And, well, it’s been over a year now.”
“And you just never went back?” Jo asks.
“Pretty much, I mean, I check in with my parents occasionally, let them know I’m okay. But how can I just go and join a sorority, and study, date, do the whole college thing when I know what’s out there? It’s like knowing the truth is this huge responsibility.”
Kat drains her beer and Jo realizes that she’s been nodding along with every word; her mouth dry.
***
Kat finds their next hunt; they sitting at a booth in a roadside diner with newspapers spread out all over the table and a half eaten plate of fries pushed precariously close to the edge. Jo’s vision is starting to blur from staring at the tiny black letters for so long when Kat jabs a page with her finger.
“There,” she says, almost victoriously. “’Couple die of smoke inhalation in their home.’ Pretty weird considering there was no sign of a fire, no smoke damage to the house." Jo sits up straighter, rubs at her eyes.
“Sounds like we might have something,” she says, waving the waitress over for the check.
The house owned by the late Mr and Mrs Wilson was rebuilt ten years ago after a fire claimed the lives of a family of four. Since then the place has continuously been off and on the market; people complaining about everything from strange sounds to the constant smell of smoke, getting stronger and stronger over the years. The Wilsons were the first to stick it out longer than a week; trying everything they could to make the place their own.
Jo makes the hour and a half drive to the county morgue, leaving Kat to pore through records and talk to the neighbours, and what would’ve been two days work for Jo if she was on her own is handled in one.
They meet back together at a Chinese restaurant, and Jo likes her burgers and fries as much as the next girl, but she’s glad for the change.
“It’s got to be one of the kids,” says Kat through a mouthful of chicken fried rice. “The family was all for traditional burial, but the parents, well there wasn’t much left of them to bury. The kids though, it was the smoke that got them.”
“Sounds like our ghost,” Jo replies, picking at her sweet and sour pork. “Coroner said the smoke damage to the lungs is the only thing that points to a cause of death. I guess it’s time for a visit to the cemetery.”
The dirt is hard, shovel making a harsh crunching sound each time Jo drives it into the earth. The graves are side by side; Alisha, 5 and Katie, 7. It feels wrong digging up a kid’s grave, and Jo’s stomach turns when she uses the edge of the shovel to open the lid of the small coffin. She passes the shovel up to Kat, and then takes Kat’s offered hand and pulls herself out of the grave. Kat goes straight to the next one and starts digging, leaving Jo to pour salt and gasoline on Alisha’s brittle bones. She pulls the matches out of her pocket, strikes on against the side of the box and tosses it down. Flames flare up bright and hot; Jo stares at them a while before going to help Kat.
“One down.”
***
They’ve got rooms in a motel across the road from the local watering hole. Jo’s not sure where they’re going from here; she’s getting strapped for cash and she hasn’t got a new hunt lined up yet. This is normally when she decides to stick around town for a while, find something that pays for a couple of weeks. Kat though, Jo doesn’t have a clue what her plans are. She’s probably going to want to get back on the road, and Jo think that she’ll miss the company. Jo loves the freedom of her life, but long drives and endless roads can get lonely, and she thinks maybe it’s more than just practicality that makes so many hunters choose to work with their buddies.
She gets up early, heads to the motel office and pays up front for two more nights. Back in her room, she sets about cleaning and polishing all her knives; getting lost in the rhythm of repetition, hands working from memory. She’s startled from her reverie by a knock at the door, hastily throwing the covers over her array of weapons before answering it.
“Hi,” Kat says brightly, holding out a cardboard cup and clutching another close to her chest. “Coffee?”
“Thanks,” Jo takes the cup and gestures Kat inside with a tilt of her chin. There’s a table but only one chair so Jo goes back to her spot on the bed, leaving the chair for Kat.
She takes a sip of her coffee, it’s bitter and strong, and she must have wrinkled her nose or something because Kat exclaims, “Oh,” and starts digging around in her pocket.
“Here,” she says, leaning forward and dumping a pile of sugar and creamer packets on the bedside cabinet beside Jo. “I didn’t know how you like it.”
Jo smiles her thanks and stirs in three sugars; her next sip much more satisfying. They sit together in silence, easy and comfortable, with the morning light filtering through the thin curtains.
Draining the last of her coffee, Jo puts the cup down on the bedside cabinet and shifts a little so she and Kat are facing each other properly.
“So, uh, where’re you headed next?” She asks, trying to sound casual.
“Oh,” Kat says, looking away, her face falling. “If you’re- I mean. I guess I’ll try and hitch a ride to the next bus stop.”
“Wait, no. Crap, I didn’t mean -” Jo says quickly. “It’s just, I was thinking about hanging around here a while, if I can get some work. I’m running too close to broke.”
“Well, then, I guess I don’t have any plans,” Kat says, looking almost relieved. “And my money’s starting to get kind of low, too.”
“So you’re up for sticking around for a couple of weeks?” Jo surprises herself with her hopeful she sounds.
“Yeah,” says Kat. “I’m up for it.”
***
Jo is a damn good bartender; hunting is her life but pouring drinks is the gas in her tank and the roof over her head. All it takes to get work is an easy smile and a couple of complicated cocktails that Brad, the manager requests. She can make ‘em, sure, but fancy umbrella drinks aren’t big in towns like this and her hours at work mostly consist of popping beer caps, pouring Jack and chatting with the patrons.
Kat comes by most nights after work; she’s picked up a few hours at Rosie’s diner, helping out during the dinner rush. She spends the evenings sitting on a bar stool and joining in the conversations and working her way through newspapers, keeping an eye out for any hunts nearby. When people ask them what a couple of nice girls like them are doing living in a motel out here in the middle of nowhere one of them will answer, “College road trip,” the other will say, “ran over budget,” and they’ll catch each other’s gaze, Jo feeling her lips quirk and Kat’s eyes all lit up with amusement.
It’s a Friday night and the small crowd is gathered around the pool table, locals and the odd traveler passing through; friendly tournament getting more competitive with each drink. Jo watches with mild interest from behind the bar. Money didn’t come into it until about half an hour ago, but the stakes are getting higher, and Jo, well, she’s starting to get that itch, the one that says she’s got to get back on the road or routine will swallow her up.
“What’s the big deal over there?” Kat asks, dropping down on her usual stool.
“Pool tournament,” Jo replies, looking away from the group to grab Kat a beer neither of them are going to pay for.
“I’m no good at that,” Kat says, fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle, wet with condensation.
“I’ll teach you sometime,” Jo offers, then grins. “How’d you like to make some quick cash so we can get out of this place?”
So Kat may be good at many things but she was definitely right about being no good at pool. Jo puts up half her paycheck and Kat wanders over, all smiles and swaying hips and Jo can’t help being a little mesmerized by her. The guys don’t want to bet against her at first, but Kat insists, and chivalry soon goes out the window in the face of a player who’s practically begging to hand over their cash. What she lacks in skill she’s making up for by giving one hell of a show, bending over the table so Jo’s eyes can perfectly follow her denim clad legs up and up until she realises that she’s staring at Kat’s ass, at the pale sliver of back where her t-shirt rides up. Kat glances at Jo over her shoulder, eyes looking up at her from under long lashes and Jo feels her face heat.
Jo waits until Kat’s handing over the money before swooping in, balancing a tray on each hand. “Another round?” She asks, setting the trays down on the closest table. One of the out-of-towners, and apparently the reigning champion if the wad of cash in his hand is anything to go by, half-smiles half-leers at her.
“”S on me, sweetheart,” he says. “Gotta say, I feel bad taking your friend's money.”
“Yeah?” Jo says, cocking a hip. “Then how about you give me a chance to win it back for her.”
“I look like a sadist to you?” he replies and Jo just laughs.
“Scared you’ll get beat by a girl?” Jo takes the pool cue from Kat, their fingers brushing in one second of warm skin on skin.
“Not if you play anything like her," he says. “Alright, sweetheart. Rack ‘em up.”
One of the perks of growing up where she did is that Jo is pretty damn awesome at pool. The look on the guy’s face when she sinks three balls in a row is almost worth as much as the money, the other women in the bar laughing and cheering for her. The game’s over pretty quickly; he’s good but Jo’s been playing since she was tall enough to reach the table. He forks over the cash without a fuss and disappears pretty quickly. Kat bounces over to Jo, grabbing her arm and dragging her over to the bar.
“Man, we totally just hustled that guy!” she exclaims excitedly. “That was awesome, you’re amazing.”
Jo can’t stop grinning, the adrenaline rush of victory pumping through her combined with Kat’s infectious enthusiasm. Kat’s hand is still on her arm, she can’t help noticing, the skin under her fingers feeling overheated. Kat’s hair is loose, falling over her shoulders and Jo thinks about reaching out, running her fingers through it. Instead, she tucks the money away, pulling her arm away from Kat’s warm hand.
“I guess I should go tell Brad I’m leaving,” she says, heading towards the back room.
***
Jo means to go to bed; the plan is to leave early. Instead she wanders around her room, packing up her stuff, double checking that she’s got everything. Eventually she strips off her jeans and socks, turns off the light and gets into bed wearing just her tank top and panties. She wonders if Kat’s asleep yet, or if she’s restless like Jo. Her mind keeps wandering until she’s wondering what Kat wears to sleep; if she wears anything at all, and she tells herself that the heat in her cheeks, in her stomach, is just from the shots of whiskey Brad had her do with him before they left, with a “Sorry to see you go.”
Thinking of Kat tonight, leaning over the pool table, of her legs and her ass and the way her breasts grazed the smooth wooden frame when she bent particularly far over, Jo’s fingers stroke her inner thigh and she feels a pulse between her legs. She rubs herself through her cotton panties, Kat firmly fixed in her head; Kat firing a shotgun, Kat laughing, Kat looking at Jo with those big brown eyes, biting her lip and -
She’s interrupted by footsteps on the concrete outside her room; her hand snapping up and out of the covers, like she’s been caught. The scuffle of feet stops at Jo’s door and she waits for a knock but it doesn’t come. Then the feet move away, and Jo’s up out of bed and at the door before she can even think about it. She opens up to find a startled Kat, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise.
“Oh, um, I thought you were asleep,” she says, blushing. “I just, I was wondering, um sorry.”
“S’okay,” Jo says, stepping out the door, night air instantly cold on her bare legs. “Do you want to come in?”
“Yeah, okay.” Kat follows Jo back inside the darkened room, closing the door behind her. Jo’s not really sure what to do with herself, thinks maybe she should pull her jeans back on and turn on the light. Instead she sits cross legged on the bed, pulling the blankets up so they pool at her waist. Instead of taking her normal seat at the table, Kat sits down on the end the bed, looking down at the faded brown bedspread and Jo watches her.
“I like working with you,” Kat blurts out finally and Jo can’t help laughing.
“I kind of got that, didn’t think you would’ve stuck around otherwise,” Jo says. “But yeah, I like working with you too.”
Kat nods, looks back down and licks her lips, shifting a little closer and Jo thinks it’s now or never. She closes her eyes, takes a breath, and before she can lean forward, Kat closes the distance between them herself, crawling up the mattress until she can press her lips to Jo’s. It’s soft at first, sweet, just Kat’s mouth brushing against Jo’s, but then Kat’s hands are resting on Jo’s shoulders and Jo’s fingers are stroking back Kat’s hair, and it gets deeper; the two of them kissing open mouthed and unrefined. Kat’s grip on her gets tighter, pulling her closer and Jo cups the back of Kat’s head as their tongues tangle and they fall back onto the bed so Jo’s lying on top of her, Kat’s hands are running down Jo’s back and slipping under her tank top.
To Jo, it feels like they’re kissing for hours and yet, for no time at all. It’s a blur of lips and tongues, fingers and hands and blond hair tickling her skin.
***
Jo wakes up with sun on her face and a dead arm. She traces that back to Kat, who’s using it as a pillow, curled up beside Jo, still fully clothed and sound asleep. Jo’s legs are cold and her arm really starting to hurt but a grin spreads across her face and won’t go away, Kat’s breath warm against her neck. Eventually she extracts herself from the bed in favour of a shower, snatching her jeans off the floor and fishing a clean t-shirt out of her bag and closing the bathroom door as quietly as she can.
The water only stays hot for five minutes, after that it’s a slow progression from warm to luke-warm to tepid and Jo gets out before it goes cold. She gets dressed and towels at her hair before leaving the bathroom. Kat has already packed up the car. She’s sitting on the hood, face tilted up to the sun and the way the light catches on her skin, in her hair, makes her look like she’s made of gold. Jo watches her for a moment before wandering over to the office to check out.
“Morning,” Jo says as she approaches the car. Kat turns to look at Jo over her shoulder and she looks happy.
“That what we’re calling it?” She replies, and yeah, maybe morning is pushing it a bit.
“So much for getting on the road early,” Jo says, moving to sit on the hood beside Kat. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“You better not be,” Kat teases. She lifts a hand, seems indecisive for a moment then brushes a lock of Jo’s damp hair back behind her ear.
***
They drive with no planned destination; they’ll find a hunt soon, but for now Jo is happy with just this. Just the sky and the road in front of her and fields sprawling wide and green either side of the car, and Kat fiddling with the radio beside her.
“I was thinking,” Kat says, giving up on finding anything but static and cheesy pop music on the radio. “Maybe, in the next place, we could save some money and share a room."
“Well,” Jo says, stretching the word out, mock considering. “That does seem sensible.”
“And it can get pretty cold at night,” continues Kat, throwing Jo a suggestive smile.
“Now, Kat, would you be suggesting we share a bed?” Jo raises an eyebrow, adjusting her grip on the wheel, and there’s an excited, swooping feeling in her stomach at the idea.
“Like you said,” Kat says, her hand moving to rest on Jo’s thigh. “Just seems sensible.”
Soundtrack here
Author/Artist: bloodnfire
Recipient: coyotesuspect
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some violence.
Pairing: Jo/Kat
Summary: Girl meets girl on hunt. Girls hunt evil together. About ten miles out of town Jo spots her, slowly walking along the side of the road with her thumb out and duffel bag slung over each shoulder, weighing down her small frame.
Notes: Many thanks to smallcaps for the beta! I am sosososo sorry that this took so long! It was eaten by my computer not once, but twice. :( As an apology to coyotesuspect she gets a bonus!gift of an accompanying fanmix.
The earth is soft beneath Jo's feet, her boots sinking into the ground with each step, making a sick squelching sound every time she pulls them free. The ground is dark and stained, but with nothing but the pale starlight that filters through the trees overhead she can't tell if it's just mud or a sign that she's too late. Again. This thing's been preying on the town's teenage population. The youngest victim - Alison, Jo reminds herself - was thirteen years old, snatched from her first school dance. Jo visited her parents as an older sister of one of their daughter’s friends, offering condolences. Red eyed, Alison's mother had shown her the last picture ever taken of her; smiling in her purple dress. Jo hasn't been able to get her face out of her head since she figured out what happened to her. Torn open and eaten insides first. All they found of her was a pile of skin and bones, rags of purple fabric left bloody all around her, in the woods across from the school. The other two were the same; blood and bone left fertilizing the earth, terrorizing the locals and puzzling the cops. Bear attack, that's what they put on the coroner's reports.
The trees start to thin out, letting a little more light through and Jo knows she's coming up to the clearing where the last remains were found. She adjusts her grip on the long knife she's carrying. Pure silver, supposed to be the best way to take this bastard down. There's a loud crunching of branches ahead of her, a yell and a thud of bodies making impact. Jo takes off running, darting between the trees, jumping over stray roots, please please please don't be too late playing on a loop through her head.
Breaking through the tree line, she sees it; tall and almost skeletal. All teeth and claws, bearing down on a body slumped against a tree. Jo throws herself at it, knife raised, slicing into its forearm but it's just a hit, not a kill. It swipes at her, claws barely an inch away from tearing her belly open, slamming her into the ground. The way she lands jars her wrist, sending her knife skidding away as the creature descends on her, jaws snapping. She manages to get her legs up, force of her feet against its torso the only thing keeping it back, but it swipes it her with its claws and she twists her head out of the way.
There's a gunshot and a yelp of pain. Its grip on her loosens and Jo takes the opportunity to kick it back, rolling to the side, away from teeth and claws. There's another shot, and it disappears into the trees. The body that was slumped against the tree is now standing; a girl with blond hair and a shotgun in both hands. She's looking around, wide eyed, scrabbling to load another round before it attacks again. Jo gets her legs back under her, retrieving her blade.
"You okay?" the girl asks, eyes darting to Jo and settling on her knife and nods slightly to herself. Jo guesses that she's pegged Jo the same way Jo has her. Hunter.
"Yeah, thanks," Jo replies, lifts the blade. "Silver, it'll do more damage than those bullets."
“Will it kill it?” she asks.
“It better,” Jo says, licking her dry lips; tasting dirt and blood.
It’s silent, just the sound of their breathing, ragged and out of sync, then there’s a snarl in the trees behind the girl; she stiffens and then seems to force herself into action. They fall in back to back; Jo flexes her fingers, tightens her grip. She cocks her gun, Jo raises her knife and they wait. The Hidebehind is a stealth killer, renowned for its silence, but now it’s wounded, making it clumsy and Jo hears the crunch of leaves before it lashes out at her. Slice of claws, long thin limbs and it’s gone again; Jo slashes at it, but she’s not quick enough.
“Damn,” Jo mutters. Next time she’ll be faster. She’ll put this son of a bitch in the ground. It attacks from the side this time; bursts out of the trees, bleeding and snarling.
“I’ll distract it, you make it dead!” Wide Eyes says, leveling her shot gun.
Jo doesn’t hesitate, darts straight towards it. It swipes at her with a talon, but the gun fires, bullet going through its leg, throwing off the attack. Times like this, Jo is glad of her size; darting under its claws and teeth. Another shot, a wounded growl, but Jo doesn’t let it distract her. She charges up, sinking her blade hilt deep in its bony chest. The Hidebehind shrieks and thrashes, claws raking her arm, and finally it slumps forward. Jo rolls to the side, narrowly avoiding it collapsing on her, covered in its blood.
“Oh my god,” the girl breathes, taking a few steps closer and nudging the motionless corpse with her gun.
“It’s dead.” Jo nods, still lying in the mud. Her arm is throbbing and it kind of hurts to breathe, but she feels a grin spread across her face.
“So,” says the girl, offering Jo a hand. “I’m Kat.”
“Jo,” she says, taking Kat’s hand and pulling herself up. “Nice work.”
***
They pick their way back through the woods together, Hidebehind nothing but a pile of ashes in the clearing now.
“You need a ride somewhere?” Jo asks when they make it back to the beat up scrap metal she affectionately calls her car.
“Yeah,” Kat nods. “I’m staying at the Horizon, it’s not far.”
Jo’s thankful that the town is dead after ten pm; Kat has sweat and dirt smeared across her face, and Jo looks like she just stepped out of a bad horror movie. Even in the car they’d be sure to call attention to themselves. Jo drops Kat off then heads to her motel across town.
As soon as the door is locked behind her she peels off her blood-sticky shirt, wincing when it clings to the claw wounds on her arm. She cleans those off first; not deep enough to need stitches, just disinfectant and a bandage, but that’s gonna wait until she’s showered.
The hot water stings her various scrapes and bruises, but her muscles practically sigh in relief. When Jo finally leaves the bathroom, bandaged and clean and sore, she drops the thin towel to the floor and crawls, naked, into bed.
***
Jo packs up the next day; loads her box of books and bag of weapons back into the trunk of her car, duffel full of clothes tossed carelessly into the backseat. There’s a postcard tucked into one of the pockets, written in an untidy scrawl, but she has no address to send it to.
Stopping at a diner on her way out of town, Jo orders a burger and a cup of coffee. The coffee is bitter and the burger’s too greasy for her tastes but she downs them in minutes and takes up the waitress’ offer of second cup to take away. Two deputies from the sheriff’s department are coming in as Jo’s leaving; one of them holds the door for her and she hears a snippet of their conversation - charred ground in the woods where the bodies of those kids were found, looks like someone had themselves a bonfire. She smiles a little to herself as the door shuts behind her with a cheerful jingle.
She drives with the windows rolled down, wind blowing her hair back and cooling her skin. The radio’s not picking up anything but static and talkback, so she contents herself with the sound of the engine and the road under her wheels. About ten miles out of town Jo spots her, slowly walking along the side of the road with her thumb out and duffel bag slung over each shoulder, weighing down her small frame. Jo slows to a stop; she doesn’t bother pulling onto the shoulder, there are no other cars in sight.
“Hey,” she says, leaning out the open window. “I’d tell you it ain’t safe to hitchhike these days if I didn’t know what was in that bag.”
“Good thing you do,” Kat replies, letting one of her bags drop to the ground. “Otherwise I’d have to tell you that I can take care of myself.” Her blond hair is gathered up in a pony tail but a few wisps have escaped it, falling around her face and the back of her neck.
“I don’t doubt it,” Jo says, smiling wide and Kat returns it with a smaller curve of her lips.
“So, did you just stop to chat or are you offering me a ride. Again.” Kat asks and Jo cocks an eyebrow at the passenger door. Kat tosses her bags in the back with Jo’s, and slips in to the front beside her.
“Where you heading?” Jo asks as she starts the engine.
“Haven’t got that far yet,” Kat says, leaning back in her seat; loose strands of hair whipping around her face.
Jo nods, considering, then says, “There’s a vampire nest up in Benton County, if you’re up for another hunt.”
“Vampires?” Kat says, sounding a little awed and Jo wonders just how long she’s been in the game. “Hell, yeah, I’m in!”
The road stretches out in front of them, open and endless. Jo guns the engine.
***
The four fangs are holed up in a farmhouse; it’d be a pretty nice place, quaint and pleasant, if it wasn’t for the boarded up windows. It’s the only place for miles, at the end of a long dirt road. They walk down it side by side, machetes in hand, air heavy and humid and the sun blazing down, feet scuffing up a cloud of dust that follows behind them. Jo tosses her hair over her shoulder; its weight makes sweat prick up at the back of her neck. Kat’s long hair is scooped up and secured with a scrunchie, bouncing with each step she takes.
Turns out Kat is pretty handy with a machete as well as a shot gun. Jo gave her the run down on the drive; take off the head, watch out for the teeth, anything goes wrong get your ass outta there and into the sunlight.
They take out two of the vamps while they’re still sleeping, a quick chop chop each and the heads go rolling. Roused by the sound, the other two come barreling into the room; a girl and a guy. The girl lunges for Kat’s throat while the guy slams Jo into the wall. She plays stunned, surging up when he turns toward his girlfriend, her serrated blade slicing through his neck. Jo turns to help Kat, but she’s holding her own. She slashes the vampire in the leg, sending her to her knees before hacking her head off in two blows. The smell of blood is thick in the air, freshly spilled and something meatier that Jo thinks might be the house’s former inhabitants.
Kat meets her eyes from the across the room and says, “Guess we better clean up, huh?”
***
“Vampires,” Kat says in a half whisper for the fourth time, slamming her beer bottle down on the table of the only bar in the first town they came to. “I feel like Buffy, or something.”
“I never liked that show,” says Jo, taking a sip of her own beer. “They got so much wrong, I couldn’t get into it. But I wasn’t much of a TV fan growing up.”
Kat blinks, “Just how long have you, y’know, known?”
Neither of them has brought this up before. The past can be a painful subject in the hunting world, Jo knows first hand, and some people keep their tragedies close to the chest.
“Grew up around it,” Jo replies after a moment. “Lot of hunters passed through my parents roadhouse; their stories were my fairy tales.“
“Roadhouse,” Recognition clicks on Kat’s face. “Harvelle’s?”
“That’s me,” Jo raises her bottle in a faux salute.
“I stopped in there a couple of times when I was getting started,” Kat says. “Before - oh shit, I’m sorry.”
Jo shrugs, takes a long swig and feels her shoulders tense up.
“My mom got out, makes us luckier than the rest.” Jo remembers when she heard, news spreading like wildfire through the hunting community; no survivors they were saying and Jo had sat on the hard mattress in her motel room and stared at her phone like a lifeline. Then, after the longest hours of her life, her mom called her from Bobby Singer’s and Jo thought the relief might make her heart explode. She’d felt like a little girl, voice coming out small and frightened when she said, “Ash,” and her mother’s voice cracked.
She puts down her bottle and forcibly brightens.
“Well, I showed you mine…”
“Alright,” Kat says, looking a little relieved. “It was a couple of years ago, in my senior year. My boyfriend thought the best way to get into my pants would be taking me to this old asylum, there were all these rumours and stories about it. Turns out they were true.”
“They often are.”
“We would’ve been dead if these two guys hadn’t showed up and saved us. And, well, that’s not really something you forget.”
“What about the boyfriend?” Jo asks with a grin.
“You kidding? I kicked his ass to the curb.” Kat says, smiling wide. “I could never settle after that, so I stuck around til graduation; waited tables and saved money. Told my parents I wanted to take a road trip before college. And, well, it’s been over a year now.”
“And you just never went back?” Jo asks.
“Pretty much, I mean, I check in with my parents occasionally, let them know I’m okay. But how can I just go and join a sorority, and study, date, do the whole college thing when I know what’s out there? It’s like knowing the truth is this huge responsibility.”
Kat drains her beer and Jo realizes that she’s been nodding along with every word; her mouth dry.
***
Kat finds their next hunt; they sitting at a booth in a roadside diner with newspapers spread out all over the table and a half eaten plate of fries pushed precariously close to the edge. Jo’s vision is starting to blur from staring at the tiny black letters for so long when Kat jabs a page with her finger.
“There,” she says, almost victoriously. “’Couple die of smoke inhalation in their home.’ Pretty weird considering there was no sign of a fire, no smoke damage to the house." Jo sits up straighter, rubs at her eyes.
“Sounds like we might have something,” she says, waving the waitress over for the check.
The house owned by the late Mr and Mrs Wilson was rebuilt ten years ago after a fire claimed the lives of a family of four. Since then the place has continuously been off and on the market; people complaining about everything from strange sounds to the constant smell of smoke, getting stronger and stronger over the years. The Wilsons were the first to stick it out longer than a week; trying everything they could to make the place their own.
Jo makes the hour and a half drive to the county morgue, leaving Kat to pore through records and talk to the neighbours, and what would’ve been two days work for Jo if she was on her own is handled in one.
They meet back together at a Chinese restaurant, and Jo likes her burgers and fries as much as the next girl, but she’s glad for the change.
“It’s got to be one of the kids,” says Kat through a mouthful of chicken fried rice. “The family was all for traditional burial, but the parents, well there wasn’t much left of them to bury. The kids though, it was the smoke that got them.”
“Sounds like our ghost,” Jo replies, picking at her sweet and sour pork. “Coroner said the smoke damage to the lungs is the only thing that points to a cause of death. I guess it’s time for a visit to the cemetery.”
The dirt is hard, shovel making a harsh crunching sound each time Jo drives it into the earth. The graves are side by side; Alisha, 5 and Katie, 7. It feels wrong digging up a kid’s grave, and Jo’s stomach turns when she uses the edge of the shovel to open the lid of the small coffin. She passes the shovel up to Kat, and then takes Kat’s offered hand and pulls herself out of the grave. Kat goes straight to the next one and starts digging, leaving Jo to pour salt and gasoline on Alisha’s brittle bones. She pulls the matches out of her pocket, strikes on against the side of the box and tosses it down. Flames flare up bright and hot; Jo stares at them a while before going to help Kat.
“One down.”
***
They’ve got rooms in a motel across the road from the local watering hole. Jo’s not sure where they’re going from here; she’s getting strapped for cash and she hasn’t got a new hunt lined up yet. This is normally when she decides to stick around town for a while, find something that pays for a couple of weeks. Kat though, Jo doesn’t have a clue what her plans are. She’s probably going to want to get back on the road, and Jo think that she’ll miss the company. Jo loves the freedom of her life, but long drives and endless roads can get lonely, and she thinks maybe it’s more than just practicality that makes so many hunters choose to work with their buddies.
She gets up early, heads to the motel office and pays up front for two more nights. Back in her room, she sets about cleaning and polishing all her knives; getting lost in the rhythm of repetition, hands working from memory. She’s startled from her reverie by a knock at the door, hastily throwing the covers over her array of weapons before answering it.
“Hi,” Kat says brightly, holding out a cardboard cup and clutching another close to her chest. “Coffee?”
“Thanks,” Jo takes the cup and gestures Kat inside with a tilt of her chin. There’s a table but only one chair so Jo goes back to her spot on the bed, leaving the chair for Kat.
She takes a sip of her coffee, it’s bitter and strong, and she must have wrinkled her nose or something because Kat exclaims, “Oh,” and starts digging around in her pocket.
“Here,” she says, leaning forward and dumping a pile of sugar and creamer packets on the bedside cabinet beside Jo. “I didn’t know how you like it.”
Jo smiles her thanks and stirs in three sugars; her next sip much more satisfying. They sit together in silence, easy and comfortable, with the morning light filtering through the thin curtains.
Draining the last of her coffee, Jo puts the cup down on the bedside cabinet and shifts a little so she and Kat are facing each other properly.
“So, uh, where’re you headed next?” She asks, trying to sound casual.
“Oh,” Kat says, looking away, her face falling. “If you’re- I mean. I guess I’ll try and hitch a ride to the next bus stop.”
“Wait, no. Crap, I didn’t mean -” Jo says quickly. “It’s just, I was thinking about hanging around here a while, if I can get some work. I’m running too close to broke.”
“Well, then, I guess I don’t have any plans,” Kat says, looking almost relieved. “And my money’s starting to get kind of low, too.”
“So you’re up for sticking around for a couple of weeks?” Jo surprises herself with her hopeful she sounds.
“Yeah,” says Kat. “I’m up for it.”
***
Jo is a damn good bartender; hunting is her life but pouring drinks is the gas in her tank and the roof over her head. All it takes to get work is an easy smile and a couple of complicated cocktails that Brad, the manager requests. She can make ‘em, sure, but fancy umbrella drinks aren’t big in towns like this and her hours at work mostly consist of popping beer caps, pouring Jack and chatting with the patrons.
Kat comes by most nights after work; she’s picked up a few hours at Rosie’s diner, helping out during the dinner rush. She spends the evenings sitting on a bar stool and joining in the conversations and working her way through newspapers, keeping an eye out for any hunts nearby. When people ask them what a couple of nice girls like them are doing living in a motel out here in the middle of nowhere one of them will answer, “College road trip,” the other will say, “ran over budget,” and they’ll catch each other’s gaze, Jo feeling her lips quirk and Kat’s eyes all lit up with amusement.
It’s a Friday night and the small crowd is gathered around the pool table, locals and the odd traveler passing through; friendly tournament getting more competitive with each drink. Jo watches with mild interest from behind the bar. Money didn’t come into it until about half an hour ago, but the stakes are getting higher, and Jo, well, she’s starting to get that itch, the one that says she’s got to get back on the road or routine will swallow her up.
“What’s the big deal over there?” Kat asks, dropping down on her usual stool.
“Pool tournament,” Jo replies, looking away from the group to grab Kat a beer neither of them are going to pay for.
“I’m no good at that,” Kat says, fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle, wet with condensation.
“I’ll teach you sometime,” Jo offers, then grins. “How’d you like to make some quick cash so we can get out of this place?”
So Kat may be good at many things but she was definitely right about being no good at pool. Jo puts up half her paycheck and Kat wanders over, all smiles and swaying hips and Jo can’t help being a little mesmerized by her. The guys don’t want to bet against her at first, but Kat insists, and chivalry soon goes out the window in the face of a player who’s practically begging to hand over their cash. What she lacks in skill she’s making up for by giving one hell of a show, bending over the table so Jo’s eyes can perfectly follow her denim clad legs up and up until she realises that she’s staring at Kat’s ass, at the pale sliver of back where her t-shirt rides up. Kat glances at Jo over her shoulder, eyes looking up at her from under long lashes and Jo feels her face heat.
Jo waits until Kat’s handing over the money before swooping in, balancing a tray on each hand. “Another round?” She asks, setting the trays down on the closest table. One of the out-of-towners, and apparently the reigning champion if the wad of cash in his hand is anything to go by, half-smiles half-leers at her.
“”S on me, sweetheart,” he says. “Gotta say, I feel bad taking your friend's money.”
“Yeah?” Jo says, cocking a hip. “Then how about you give me a chance to win it back for her.”
“I look like a sadist to you?” he replies and Jo just laughs.
“Scared you’ll get beat by a girl?” Jo takes the pool cue from Kat, their fingers brushing in one second of warm skin on skin.
“Not if you play anything like her," he says. “Alright, sweetheart. Rack ‘em up.”
One of the perks of growing up where she did is that Jo is pretty damn awesome at pool. The look on the guy’s face when she sinks three balls in a row is almost worth as much as the money, the other women in the bar laughing and cheering for her. The game’s over pretty quickly; he’s good but Jo’s been playing since she was tall enough to reach the table. He forks over the cash without a fuss and disappears pretty quickly. Kat bounces over to Jo, grabbing her arm and dragging her over to the bar.
“Man, we totally just hustled that guy!” she exclaims excitedly. “That was awesome, you’re amazing.”
Jo can’t stop grinning, the adrenaline rush of victory pumping through her combined with Kat’s infectious enthusiasm. Kat’s hand is still on her arm, she can’t help noticing, the skin under her fingers feeling overheated. Kat’s hair is loose, falling over her shoulders and Jo thinks about reaching out, running her fingers through it. Instead, she tucks the money away, pulling her arm away from Kat’s warm hand.
“I guess I should go tell Brad I’m leaving,” she says, heading towards the back room.
***
Jo means to go to bed; the plan is to leave early. Instead she wanders around her room, packing up her stuff, double checking that she’s got everything. Eventually she strips off her jeans and socks, turns off the light and gets into bed wearing just her tank top and panties. She wonders if Kat’s asleep yet, or if she’s restless like Jo. Her mind keeps wandering until she’s wondering what Kat wears to sleep; if she wears anything at all, and she tells herself that the heat in her cheeks, in her stomach, is just from the shots of whiskey Brad had her do with him before they left, with a “Sorry to see you go.”
Thinking of Kat tonight, leaning over the pool table, of her legs and her ass and the way her breasts grazed the smooth wooden frame when she bent particularly far over, Jo’s fingers stroke her inner thigh and she feels a pulse between her legs. She rubs herself through her cotton panties, Kat firmly fixed in her head; Kat firing a shotgun, Kat laughing, Kat looking at Jo with those big brown eyes, biting her lip and -
She’s interrupted by footsteps on the concrete outside her room; her hand snapping up and out of the covers, like she’s been caught. The scuffle of feet stops at Jo’s door and she waits for a knock but it doesn’t come. Then the feet move away, and Jo’s up out of bed and at the door before she can even think about it. She opens up to find a startled Kat, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise.
“Oh, um, I thought you were asleep,” she says, blushing. “I just, I was wondering, um sorry.”
“S’okay,” Jo says, stepping out the door, night air instantly cold on her bare legs. “Do you want to come in?”
“Yeah, okay.” Kat follows Jo back inside the darkened room, closing the door behind her. Jo’s not really sure what to do with herself, thinks maybe she should pull her jeans back on and turn on the light. Instead she sits cross legged on the bed, pulling the blankets up so they pool at her waist. Instead of taking her normal seat at the table, Kat sits down on the end the bed, looking down at the faded brown bedspread and Jo watches her.
“I like working with you,” Kat blurts out finally and Jo can’t help laughing.
“I kind of got that, didn’t think you would’ve stuck around otherwise,” Jo says. “But yeah, I like working with you too.”
Kat nods, looks back down and licks her lips, shifting a little closer and Jo thinks it’s now or never. She closes her eyes, takes a breath, and before she can lean forward, Kat closes the distance between them herself, crawling up the mattress until she can press her lips to Jo’s. It’s soft at first, sweet, just Kat’s mouth brushing against Jo’s, but then Kat’s hands are resting on Jo’s shoulders and Jo’s fingers are stroking back Kat’s hair, and it gets deeper; the two of them kissing open mouthed and unrefined. Kat’s grip on her gets tighter, pulling her closer and Jo cups the back of Kat’s head as their tongues tangle and they fall back onto the bed so Jo’s lying on top of her, Kat’s hands are running down Jo’s back and slipping under her tank top.
To Jo, it feels like they’re kissing for hours and yet, for no time at all. It’s a blur of lips and tongues, fingers and hands and blond hair tickling her skin.
***
Jo wakes up with sun on her face and a dead arm. She traces that back to Kat, who’s using it as a pillow, curled up beside Jo, still fully clothed and sound asleep. Jo’s legs are cold and her arm really starting to hurt but a grin spreads across her face and won’t go away, Kat’s breath warm against her neck. Eventually she extracts herself from the bed in favour of a shower, snatching her jeans off the floor and fishing a clean t-shirt out of her bag and closing the bathroom door as quietly as she can.
The water only stays hot for five minutes, after that it’s a slow progression from warm to luke-warm to tepid and Jo gets out before it goes cold. She gets dressed and towels at her hair before leaving the bathroom. Kat has already packed up the car. She’s sitting on the hood, face tilted up to the sun and the way the light catches on her skin, in her hair, makes her look like she’s made of gold. Jo watches her for a moment before wandering over to the office to check out.
“Morning,” Jo says as she approaches the car. Kat turns to look at Jo over her shoulder and she looks happy.
“That what we’re calling it?” She replies, and yeah, maybe morning is pushing it a bit.
“So much for getting on the road early,” Jo says, moving to sit on the hood beside Kat. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“You better not be,” Kat teases. She lifts a hand, seems indecisive for a moment then brushes a lock of Jo’s damp hair back behind her ear.
***
They drive with no planned destination; they’ll find a hunt soon, but for now Jo is happy with just this. Just the sky and the road in front of her and fields sprawling wide and green either side of the car, and Kat fiddling with the radio beside her.
“I was thinking,” Kat says, giving up on finding anything but static and cheesy pop music on the radio. “Maybe, in the next place, we could save some money and share a room."
“Well,” Jo says, stretching the word out, mock considering. “That does seem sensible.”
“And it can get pretty cold at night,” continues Kat, throwing Jo a suggestive smile.
“Now, Kat, would you be suggesting we share a bed?” Jo raises an eyebrow, adjusting her grip on the wheel, and there’s an excited, swooping feeling in her stomach at the idea.
“Like you said,” Kat says, her hand moving to rest on Jo’s thigh. “Just seems sensible.”
Soundtrack here