Title: Trouble in a Push-up Bra
Chapter: Two
Summary: AU. Meg decides to relieve her boredom by playing with Jo, Sam, and Dean.
Rating: M
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is meant with this work of fan fiction.


"Like you had it figured out any earlier than I did."

They were heading back to their cabin. Sam actually like it. It wasn't as weird as some of the places they'd stayed. They'd requested one further out from the road and been given the one way back from the rest. The owner didn't care which one they took. According to him, any business was good business.

"Prove it." Dean glanced at the rearview mirror. Jo was following them in her own car.

"Think it's any demon we already know?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. We've pissed off a lot of them." He drove in silence for a couple minutes, then glanced askance at him. "One does come to mind though, one who admitted she no longer cares to follow any plans. Gotta admit, Sam, Jo's behavior hasn't been usual demon behavior. Seduction, but no coaxing to give her our souls. Nothing like that. Playing us off each other is something Meg'd do if she thought she could get us to beat each other bloody."

"If it's her, she'll have locked herself inside Jo." He rubbed his fingers on his inner right forearm. Sam was intimately familiar with her methods.

"We'll have to search her." Dean laid out a quick plan, but it would necessitate getting Jo to leave for awhile.

It wasn't the best of plans, but it was something. Maybe they'd have some luck before it went too far.


Search Jo. Hell and damnation. Dean gritted his teeth together so hard his jaw ached. After ignoring his attraction to Jo, should he really be proposing this kind of plan? It could lead to all sorts of trouble if they were right -- and heaps more if they were wrong.

This was a bad idea, but what could they do? If it was Meg and she'd locked herself in, they needed to find the binding link in order to break it before any devil's trap would hold her or exorcism work.

They were right about her being possessed. He knew it. He could feel it in his gut. What clinched it though, was her expression when she first stepped in to the cabin. Malice, anger, and hate all rolled into her eyes for the span of only a couple seconds. In those seconds, Jo's features had hardened and she most certainly wasn't the Jo he and Sam knew.

"Hey, Jo…" Dean glanced at Sam. "What's say you stay here with us? No sense wasting money on another cabin when we've got room."

She shut the door and leaned back against it. "Pretty close quarters."

"Not like we've never shared a place before," Sam said, smoothing the covers on one bed.

Jo watched him. "Sure."

"We'll build up the fire, stay in." Crossing his arms, Dean leaned on the wall by the door. "Get reacquainted."

His proposal was met with a smile. "What about meals? Gotta eat sometime."

"You could run back in a pick up some stuff. Enough for a few days…." He leered at her just a little.

"Why me?"

"You're parked behind us."

"Good point." She laughed. "Okay. Okay. All the essentials, right? M&M's, beer, beef jerky. Sure. Contribute some cash and I'll go."

He and Sam both forked over cash, watched her car disappear and set to work on the room.


"Dean."

He glanced up from setting the poker in the fire. "Yeah?"

Sam sighed. "What if she's not possessed? What if this really is Jo and she's just…a little kinky under it all? I mean, we don't know her that well. Maybe she is a little twisted." He was grasping at straws and knew it. He'd seen that malicious, predatory expression on her face earlier.

"If we strip her down and there's no charm burned on her anywhere, the devil's trap doesn't trap her, and the holy water has no effect, then I say we both have one massive attack of conscience, as hard as…" he stopped, pursed his lips a second. "Poor choice of words, but likely apropos." He continued on. "As difficult as that may be to resist her while she's all sprawled out naked and horny. Very naked. Very, very horny." He cleared his throat.

With a grimace, Sam finished covering the symbol under the bed. If Jo was awake inside while the demon had control, he didn't think she'd react well to Dean's plan once the demon was gone. Maybe he was wrong. It'd be best if he was and Jo didn't mind.

Dean cocked his head to one side. "Hurry up, she's back." He walked across the room to Sam. "Okay, I'll take her front, you take her back. Be thorough."

"Why do you get to take her front?"

He shrugged and in typical Dean reasoning replied, "I'm older," like it was a valid reason.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Sure it does."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "You just want to feel her up."

Dean's expression was innocent and wounded at the same time. "Dude, that hurts."

"It's the truth."

"Is not. I don't just want to feel her up. I'm completely dedicated to protecting Jo's welfare. It's a pure motive."

Sam narrowed his eyes, unable to stop the derisive snort that left him. "Pure motive, my ass. That's bull and you know it. You want to feel her up and that's it."

"As long as she's offering and Ellen's miles away. Besides," Dean crossed his own arms, "you got to grope her ass. All I got was a sniff of perfume and glimpse of cleavage."

"I never touched her ass and you're being childish."

He pointed at Sam, "You get to grope her ass," then at himself, "I get to do her front. That's only fair."

Sam rolled his eyes. This was a stupid, pointless argument.

"It's a dirty job, yeah, but someone's gotta do it."

"I can do her front just as well as you can."

Dean's left eyebrow slid upward as though oiled.

Outside, a car door slammed and footsteps crunched to the door.


Meg removed her shoes at the door rather than track slushy mess onto the carpet. It was something she thought Jo would do, though she'd never actually observed her doing that. That done, she set the bags on the table and padded in sock feet to Dean and Sam. They were standing in the middle of the room by the two double beds, had stoked fire while she was out, and found some candles.

"What's this?" She looked from Dean to Sam and back to Dean, flashing a flirtatious smile. It was one she'd been practicing. Jo's features were perfect for that sort of smile. "Candles and a fire in the fireplace. How romantic."

Dean sauntered close, hands stretching out to grasp her hips and draw her to him. He turned her, putting Sam at her back, who also moved against her. Sam's touch was lighter than Dean's, running along her arms and up to move her hair over her shoulder, giving his lips easy access to the nape of her neck.

Her eyes widened a fraction. What was this development?

"You know," Dean's tongue slipped out, flicked across his lips, "Sammy and I have been talking and we've decided it wouldn't be right to fight over you, but, uh, I think," his fingers slid along the waistband of her jeans to the snap and zipper, "we can come to some sort of," he leaned down, kissed the side of her mouth as he undid the snap and lowered the zipper of her jeans, "arrangement."

Meg froze, the tiny suspicion growing that they were up to something. She glanced about the room again. "Really?" They had to be up to something, but what? There was nothing different in the room that was obvious aside from the fire in the fireplace and the candles and even the fire wasn't odd. There'd been a fire burning low before she'd left. "Let me get this straight." Grasping his shirt, she looked up at him with a raised brow. "You're proposing to…share me?" Meg licked her lips slowly, savoring the sight of his gaze dipping to watch the movement.

While Dean seemed the type to be amenable to such an arrangement, she hadn't thought Sam would be. How surprising. That was something she hadn't learned from Sammy-boy those days she'd been in him.

Dean shrugged. "Why have just one of us when you can have both? Double the fun." His hands slid under the waistband of her jeans, fingers sliding on the silky panties she'd put on, beginning to inch her jeans down. Suddenly, there was that cocky Dean grin, the one that he assumed no woman could resist. "You like to have fun, don't you?"

"Kinky." Meg grasped his wrists, stilling that movement of his hands. "Easy there, Slick. Can't just go for the gold like that. What makes you think I'm that kind of girl?"

"The past few hours. You are just full of surprises."

Sam seized the moment to nibble along the side of her neck to her ear. His silent sensitive bit was less annoying than Dean's talkative über confidence. What did Jo see in Dean anyway? Sam was the real prize of the two in Meg's opinion. Sam was the challenge. He released her arms, reached through the space between her arms and body, undoing the buttons on her blouse in a manner that suggested he'd had plenty of practice.

"Well," she turned her head, leaning back against him a little, "someone's taking agreement for granted. Not confident or anything, are you?"

"Don't play coy, Jo." Sam's breath was hot in her ear, causing a shiver of pleasure.

She let him take the blouse from her and before it was even to the floor he was back against her. She smirked a little. This was seriously looking less and less like something potentially dangerous to her and more and more like racy sex. Raising one arm, she tangled her fingers in Sam's hair as he kissed her neck. "How do you want me to play, Sammy?"

"I'll get back to you on that," he replied, smoothing a hand down her back.

She returned her gaze to Dean, looked at him with eyes half closed. "Gonna just stand there, Dean? Let Sam have all the fun?"

For the fraction of a second, there was an unfathomable glint in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, Dean smiling again. "Can't have that." Bending, he kissed her full on the lips, though it was hardly what she'd been expecting. The kiss was sweet and gentle to a puke inducing extent.

Meg had to force herself not to roll her eyes. "You call that a kiss?"

"Teaser maybe?" He touched her arms, ran his fingers along them, then moved to her sides, palms flat.

"Oooh, are you gonna tease me, Dean?"

"I'm gonna do lots of things to you. Promise. You won't believe some of things I'm going to do."

She certainly believed he thought she wouldn't believe.

Sam grasped the waist of her jeans, taking up where Dean had left off in easing them down over her hips. He was careful of the bandage on her hip.

"Impatient much, Sam?"

"Maybe a little. Can you blame me? After that display with the ice cream cone?"

Meg rolled her hips back against him. "Then someone besides me needs to be losing some clothes, boys."

He obliged her, removing both his shirts and tossing them aside.

"Don't you worry about that…Jo. We'll all lose things when the time is right." Dean crouched down, tugging the jeans down her legs, spending more time caressing her legs than working the jeans all the way off.

"Like what you see," she asked.

"I always have." He finally pulled the jeans the rest of the way off, set them aside and tugged his t-shirt off. Her socks followed, Dean raising one foot and pressing kisses up one leg starting at her knee. Each kiss was slow, his tongue swirling on her skin. He was extremely thorough in his explorations.

Sam's fingers splayed across the bandage. "Does this hurt?"

"Not really. It's nothing. It's half healed already." Meg grasped his hand, sliding it off the bandage. "There are far better places to touch me than some bandage on my hip."

"Just curious," he explained, obliging her by dragging both hands across her belly and up to her breasts, reaching for the front catch to her bra.

Jo's body was wonderfully responsive to both of them. Meg loosed her hold on Jo enough that Jo could feel what was happening. Immediately, Meg knew the full depths of Jo's panic, confusion, and fear. All increased when Sam's hands undid the catch of her bra, eased it from her and proceeded to prove he was every bit as capable as Dean.

Jo was terrified of Sam.

Oh, how sweet, Meg thought. I made an impression!

Dean's mouth reached her hip, bypassed the bandage and trailed kisses across her belly. Meg gasped as he sucked at a spot about an inch beneath her bellybutton. The panties she wore were gone in seconds, Dean twirling them on one finger and letting them fly across the room.

She was turned, Sam's mouth coming down hard upon hers, the very sort of kiss she'd expected from Dean. He lifted her against him.


Her innocence was gone.

That was what suddenly struck Sam with all the force of a hammer between the eyes. The Jo they knew had a sort of innocence wrapped about her. It wasn't a physical thing, nor was it emotional or even plain naivety. This sort of innocence was deeper. Spiritual. While Jo had never expressed her beliefs to him, he thought of her as light. Perhaps light was a better word than innocence?

She was a light that burned in bright determination to force away the growing darkness in the world.

But that light was gone from her, so completely extinguished that he knew without one doubt that she was possessed, for even a bitter, broken Jo would still carry a bit of her light. That was how integral it was to the fabric of her being.

Anger rose inside him as that revelation cemented in his mind, along with a fresh determination to free Jo from the demon's grip no matter what it took.


They couldn't seem to decide which one got her first, so Meg made an executive decision, pushing Dean down onto one bed and straddling him.


Dean frowned over Jo's back, zipping his gaze to the fireplace and back. 'Now', he mouthed.

Sam pointed a finger at Jo's hip, still covered with the bandage. It was the last place to look for a mark. They needed to clear that spot and face whatever repercussions there were for whatever was beneath the bandage.

Dean's features scrunched into an annoyed grimace, then smoothed out as Jo shifted.

How in the hell were they going to do this without getting killed?

Sam scrambled to reach for the massage oil mixed with holy water -- Dean's idea -- as Jo sat and called out.


Meg sat up, distracted from leaving a huge hickey on Dean's neck by the realization that Sam wasn't there. She turned her head, listening. "What are you doing, Sam?"

"Waiting," he replied, coming into her line of vision. His left hand was behind his back.

She tensed. "For what?"

"My turn of course." He held out a little bottle.

It was massage oil. Meg tossed her head back and laughed. "You want a show?" How had she not discovered this bent that week?

"I want to rub this all over your back." His lips curved in a smirk. "And anywhere else that tickles your fancy."

"Mmm. And here I thought Dean was the naughty one." She climbed off of Dean and patted the bed. "Don't keep a girl waiting, Sam."


Sam poured a tiny amount of oil into his palm as Dean slid from the bed. He set the bottle aside, working the oil across both palms.

Now or never, he told himself, straddling her. Push came to shove, if Jo was possessed, she could throw them both about the room easily. Taking a deep breath, he placed one palm on her back and the other at the bandage, pressing with one hand even as he pulled the bandage away.

Her flesh sizzled. Jo screamed, bucked beneath him.

Under the bandage was the same mark that had been on his arm. He had a single moment to notice before all his energies were taken up with keeping her flat.

What was taking Dean so long with that poker?

A second later he was airborne.


Why am I the one always getting my ass kicked, Dean asked himself. He sat up with a groan, reaching for the poker again. If they didn't get this taken care of soon, they'd have to reheat the poker. He couldn't see the demon giving them a few minutes to get their act together.

The demon knelt in the middle of the bed, those black eyes horrible in Jo's face. "Weren't we having a good time? Don't you like her, Sam? Dean, don't you want her either? Isn't she hot? Look at this body, boys. Honestly, are you going to tell me you don't want to tap this bitch? Poor, poor little Jo-Jo --"

"Shut up," he growled, trying to ignore the ache in his back from where he'd slammed against the table. He was going to have a helluva bruise tomorrow.

"-- wanting it so bad from both of you and you treat her like this? Would it kill you to be fucking gentlemen for once?"

Sam began to speak the Latin phrases. Dean drew in a breath and waded back into the fight.


Sam watched the demon flee from Jo's body and disappear under the crack of the outside door. Jo was very still, terribly so, her face so pale it appeared bloodless. At a glance, he couldn't tell if her chest rose and fell with breath or not. He raised a hand, wiped his brow, flicking away the sweat that had gathered there. For a moment there, he'd been afraid there was something they'd missed, that the demon had another mark on Jo somewhere.

He heard Dean groan from the floor on the other side of the bed. Slowly, his head and shoulders appeared at the bed edge. "I hate the part where they fight." He heaved himself to his feet and looked down at Jo. "Tell me she's still breathing, Sam," he asked. "I do not want to have to tell Ellen that Jo was possessed and the demon rode her until it killed her."

Bending over her, Sam touched her jaw, turning her face towards him, feeling for her pulse on her neck. He was relieved to find it stable and strong. "She's breathing, pulse is steady."

Jo gasped, her eyes opening. Recognition lit her gaze, immediately followed by terror and before Sam could say anything even remotely reassuring, Jo let out a scream that clearly conveyed her fear. She rolled, scrambled to the headboard and crouched there, curled as though trying to protect herself.

Oh my God, he thought. She's afraid of me.

Sam straightened and took a step back, trying not to show how the scream affected him. Jo was afraid of him. Of him. He took another step away and reached for his clothes.


Jo opened her eyes with a gasp, then screamed to find Sam's face inches from hers and his hand on her neck. Irrational fear slipped over her. No matter how many times she'd told herself the man who'd attacked her had been demon possessed, coming face-to-face with him like this was a bit too close for comfort. She moved, sitting and putting the headboard at her back.

I'm naked, she thought. Shit, shit, shit!

Drawing her legs up, she registered Dean on the other side of the bed and a pain in her hip. "Son of a bitch, that hurts!" Her hip felt like the flesh was burning away. She blinked. There wasn't a way to keep the quiver from her voice and Jo didn't bother to try. "Why am I naked? One of you please tell me this isn't what it looks like."

Sam drew on his t-shirt.

Dean bent to retrieve her blouse and leaned over the mattress, placing it near her. "It's kind of what it looks like."

"But not really," Sam added, keeping his distance as he finished dressing.

"How so 'kind of but not really'?" Did that even make sense? Jo spread the garment across herself, wondering where the rest of her clothes were. Her heartbeat was racing inside her chest, hands shaking.

Sam knelt on the floor at the end of the bed. "Well, we were trying to trick the demon inside you. Make it think one thing --"

"When we really had something rather different in mind," Dean interrupted, drawing on his t-shirt. "We needed to be convincing."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Jo noticed Sam kept his eyes on her face as she considered the question. She didn't like his eyes anymore. She remembered all too clearly how mockingly cruel his stare had been weeks earlier. "Hard to say really. I'm not sure if I'm remembering anything that happened or if I'm remembering a dream. I…I have nightmares sometimes." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, not caring that she'd revealed her trouble sleeping. Surely they suffered nightmares too? It had to be a hazard of hunting life. "I was getting dressed when it appeared. I remember that bitch telling me what she had planned like it was a game to pass the time before she moved on to other things."

"She?" Dean sat on the end of the bed, snagging a pair of jeans from the floor and tossing them up by her. As they not only didn't look big enough for either of them and she was the only one without pants on, Jo numbly concluded they were hers. A second later her red panties followed, along with the matching bra. "She wouldn't happen to be the same hell spawn who touched Sam in places no woman's ever touched him before would she?" He waited for her reply and when Jo hesitated, he prodded, "Duluth?"

She flushed, holding the blouse to her as though it was a shield to protect her. "I remember it, Dean, and yeah, it was her. She said she noticed me because I had gumption. She'd been watching me. Planned on being me awhile." Jo shrugged, trying to ignore that uncomfortable memory of Sam towering over her in Duluth, so very much stronger than her, and the alarm that had lanced through her knowing that whatever he had planned she wouldn't be able to fight him. It had been a relief to discover he was possessed. "What tipped you off that it wasn't me?"

They exchanged a weighted look that conveyed much more than she could decipher in her current state of mind.

"What didn't tip us off?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Jo, I want you to get one of these nifty tattoos like we've got. It'll keep Meg from trying a repeat performance in you. Get your clothes on. We'll go right now."

She stared at him, uncomprehending for a moment, then tried to pretend a lighter mood than she felt. "Sure, mom. You mind maybe turning your back first?"

"Do I look like Ellen and no, I don't mind. I'll even step outside in the snow and cold. How's that for chivalry?"

"You're a prince, Dean, just turn around," Jo snapped. "And if I squint and turn my head, you do sort of resemble my mom in a twisted sort of way, along with acting like her. Bossy much?"

"Cranky much?"

Sam stood up. "Go easy on her Dean. You'd be cranky too." He pointed to the door. "We'll be outside. Come on."

"For all we know, Meg's still hanging around hoping for a second shot when we're not paying attention. You can be damn sure that stunt we pulled on her won't work twice. Go get her one of the amulets." He tossed Sam his keys.

With a sigh, Sam opened the door, stepping outside. Jo heard the trunk of Dean's car slam and then he was back, holding a necklace out to her. "Jo, put this on. You'll wear this until the tattoo is done. Happy Dean? Let's give her some privacy."

She took it, put it on. "All protected. Scram." Once she was sure they weren't standing right outside the door waiting, Jo put her forehead to her knees and closed her eyes. She felt shaky, a bit feverish, like she was coming down with something. Swallowing hard, she reached for her clothes. The mark on her hip stung, a constant throbbing pain, and she looked down at it. It was ugly, red, and inflamed. The best thing to do would be to have one of them bring her some ice for it, but Jo just wanted to be covered. She knew she'd pay for that decision later.

Jo found her own bag, rifled through it until she found bandages, then taped one across the mark before starting to get dressed.

In the back of her mind was the remembrance of hands and lips on her body. Dean's, Sam's. It all blurred together. She remembered…some of what had happened. Dean's lips on her stomach, his hands running along her legs. Sam's hands on her breasts.

Jo's stomach lurched, but it was only dry heaves. Nothing forceful enough to bring up anything she'd eaten.

In the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and stared at her reflection. She looked shell-shocked, eyes as wide as they'd go and lower lip trembling, her face white under the light.

Talk about pee your pants terror.

She gripped the vanity, taking a deep breath in the hopes of steadying herself. Mixed on her skin were the scents of their aftershave and her own perfume. A sob left her and she shook her head.

I won't cry, she told herself. I won't. Not where they can hear me. Never where they can hear me.

It took long minutes to collect herself enough to join them outside.

"I'll drive your car, Jo." Dean held out his hand for the keys.

Jo fished them from her pocket. "Fine."

"Follow us, Sam."

She saw him nod as she got into the passenger side of her car.


Jo was shivering in the passenger seat. Dean hoped it was only shock. He flipped the heater on high. "You do know Sam would never hurt you, right? In Duluth --"

When she spoke, her voice was low. "Sam did hurt me."

"It wasn't Sam doing the hurting. It was the demon inhabiting him."

"Tell that to my body. I know he was possessed, Dean. That doesn't make it any easier to wake up and see him that close. Again. He's taller than me, stronger than me, and yeah, it's gonna be a long ass time before I can be in a room with him without wanting to reach for the nearest weapon. I can't trust him, not yet."

He drove, mulling that over for a few minutes before asking, "Do you trust me?"

"I'm alone in my car with you aren't I?"

She didn't stop shivering even as the car warmed. Had to be shock. "You need sugar, blanket, anything?"

"I'll be fine. I shook for hours after you left in Duluth and I got over it."

"It's no trouble, Jo. We'll swing through McDonald's, get you a large coffee, lots of sugar. Shot or two of whiskey."

Jo crossed her arms over her breasts, slouched down in the seat. "Stop it. Don't act like you care. It's insulting."

Don't care? Cared more than he should was more like it. "What makes you think I don't care?"

"Please. I'm not stupid, Dean. You never called to see how I was, a real testament to your affection. If you cared you would have called after you said you would."

He winced. She did have a point. "Yeah, okay, I was a dick about that, I'll agree, but I do care, Jo."

She snorted. "Pull over."

"What? Why? You gonna puke?"

"Pull over," she yelled.

Pulling to the side of the road, he put the car in park, expecting her to open the door and hurl.

Instead, Jo unbuckled her seatbelt and turned. Anger rolled about in her eyes. "Get out of my car. Now. Get out. I mean it."

He stared at her a beat trying to see what emotion besides anger was there inside her. "No."

She sucked in a breath, a flush rising on her cheeks. "Dean! Get out!"

There, in Jo's gaze, he found her fear, her pain, her embarrassment…and a helluva lot of anger. Jo was seriously pissed. "Make me."

Raising one fist, she let a punch fly.

The front seat of any car wasn't the best place for a brawl, but it kept Jo contained, unable to put any real force behind her hits. She couldn't do him too much damage. Dean had no trouble fending her off and when he had an opening, he grabbed her, pulling her tightly to him, pressing her face to his chest.

"Let go of me!" She struggled against him, nearly slipping his grasp several times. It took long minutes for her to weaken, lose momentum and need to rest between frantic bursts of energy to escape. Her vocabulary was nicely varied, enough so that Dean noted a few phrases he'd not heard before, pretty impressive all in itself.

At last, she calmed and he released her. He had seconds to realize his mistake in thinking her calm before she was kicking him.


Jo waited until he thought she had no fight left and released her, then turned her back to the passenger door and started kicking him. "Get out of my car!" She kicked hard and fast, her goal only to get him away.

"Jo, damn it, stop kicking me!"

Back and forth they went until he opened the door and got out, turning and reaching for her. Jo scrambled to take the driver's seat herself before he could get a grip on her ankles. One well-placed kick sent him reeling back. She hurried to slam and lock that door, then the rest, keeping him out. She could see him getting mad too, bracing himself with one hand on the hood and the other roof, staring at her.

"This is childish," he barked. "Open the doors."

She adjusted the seat and mirrors as though he wasn't even there. As she did, something crucial occurred to her. Cracking the window, she glared at him. "Whose idea was it to strip me completely?"

"Jo --"

"Say it!"

"Unlock the doors."

"Say it," she bit out through clenched teeth.

"Will you calm down?"

"Damn you, Dean, just admit it was your idea."

"Yeah, it was mine and I'd do it again to get that bitch demon out of you! We had to find that binding!"

"Did it even occur to you how I might feel about waking up naked like that, with you and Sam both looming over me? Both of you?"

"What were we supposed to do, Jo? You wanna tell me that, because I had no other ideas."

"Oh, let me think. How about the usual tricks? Holy water, devil's trap, salt…. All of which could have been used without taking my clothes off." Jo sniffed, willing herself not to cry and failing. Tears clouded her vision. "How could you? I mean, being used as bait is one thing, but stripping me naked when there wasn't any real reason to? You did it because you could; because you wanted to, and you thought this gave you an excuse. That's just…creepy. Wrong. And Sam went along with it? Shit, that's messed up on so many levels." Never mind that he hardly needed an excuse to strip her naked. Jo would have willingly stripped for him before this. But now? She felt betrayed, embarrassed. Mortified beyond belief. She'd rather be miles away from there right now. She wanted to erase being naked and vulnerable, needing rescue one more time.

"Are you perhaps unaware you had a demon inside you who was going to do that to you herself?"

"But she didn't do it. You two did." Jo laughed. It had a hysterical tone to it. "It wasn't her directing my hands to undress me. It was you and Sam, touching and kissing me like it was the free love hour. She let me wake up for some of that, Dean." Jo curled her hands into fists in her lap. "I was awake when you had your mouth on my stomach. And when Sam kissed me and…." Jo dragged in a breath, swallowing several times to try and stave off the urge to start sobbing. " H-how was any of that necessary? All she had to do was act somewhat like me, wiggle my ass, and shake my tits and you were falling all over yourselves to undress me looking for a mark that, for all you knew, wasn't even there."

"Devil's trap doesn't hold a demon with that binding. The binding has to be broken for the trap and exorcism to work. I made that mistake with Sam last time and I wasn't about to make it again."

She gripped the steering wheel, shaking her head. "I am so done with you."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I swear I'll run over your feet if you don't move. I'll do it, Dean. Don't test me."

"You'll do no such --" He leapt back as she put it in drive and let up on the brake. "Don't do this, Jo. Come on."

"Don't call me. Not that you would anyway. And tell Sam not to call either, okay?" Jo pushed the accelerator a little too hard and ended up spraying slushy gravel onto Dean as she pulled onto the road. In the rearview mirror, she saw him make a grab for the car, but then she rounded the bend and he was gone from sight.


Dean waited in the middle of the road for Sam to catch up, wondering what had gone so wrong in Jo's car. She'd freaked out. Totally. Hadn't even listened to reason. It made sense right? Find the binding before anything.

Sam pulled up and put the Impala in park, rolling down the window. "Dean, what happened? Where's Jo?"

He jerked open the driver's door. "Jo declines to continue our acquaintance."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She kicked me out of her car. Literally. Move over, Sam. I'm driving."

"We're going after her, right?" He moved across to the passenger side.

Dean got in the car, stared at the road ahead for the span of two breaths, then shook his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because," Dean started as he turned the car around to go back to the cabin. "It's over. The lady says lose her number. It's pretty plain what she wants."

"She doesn't mean it. She's just hurting right now. Embarrassed, scared. We'll give her some time to cool down and call her this time. Both of us."

Dean drove in silence until they were nearly there, thinking about Meg and Jo and those things Jo had said.

All she had to do was act somewhat like me, wiggle my ass, and shake my tits and you were falling all over yourselves to undress me looking for a mark that, for all you knew, wasn't even there.

But she didn't do it. You two did. It wasn't her directing my hands to undress me. It was you and Sam, touching and kissing me like it was the free love hour.

Damn. This was never about him and Sam was it? It was all about Jo.

"We won't call her. She meant it. And Meg got exactly what she was aiming for. Score one for the creature feature."

Sam shook his head. "What do you mean, she got what she was aiming for? What did Jo say to you?"

"Why did she really go to Jo last time? She could have taken you straight to Bobby's. Why make that side trip then and why jump into her now?" He pulled into the parking place. "She was working on Jo, seeing how well she could get in her head and mess with her. Think about it, Sam. Maybe it was only an idea when she was running you, but she went back to her. This time wasn't about us, not really. It was about pushing Jo away from us and hurting her and she succeeded on all counts. I don't see Jo forgiving us anytime soon."

"We were trying to save her."

"Yeah, well Jo doesn't see it that way."


Jo drove as long as she could before exhaustion claimed her. She checked in to a motel. It was a dive like all the others she stayed at anymore, but it seemed clean enough.

She stripped, throwing the red underwear in the trashcan, and stepped into the shower. Under normal circumstances, Jo liked her showers so hot that her skin was red when she got out and this time was no different. The water didn't seem warm enough no matter how low she turned the cold tap. Steam rolled throughout the bathroom. Jo stood beneath the spray, gulping in the humid air, wishing somehow that the past hours would disappear from memory. When her fingers started to prune, she turned off the water.

Wrapped in a towel, and holding a bag of ice to her hip, she curled on the bed, crying out all of her embarrassment and pain. How could they? How could they think that it'd be acceptable to do that to her?

It was dawn before she slept and when Jo woke, she did so with a greater determination than ever to do her bit of good in the world. She got dressed and began to make plans. She'd forget Sam and Dean Winchester, put them from her mind if it was the last thing she did.

The amulet remained about her neck and sometimes she'd clasp it, and remember that wounded look in Dean's eyes when she'd left him there in the road.