Summary: Anna visits Jo the night before Carthage. Anna/Jo femslash.
Disclaimer: This is an unauthorized work of fanfiction. I do not own the characters in this story and I am not profiting from it in any way.
Jo looked up sharply as the flutter of wings disturbed the night. It was her. Of course.
"I thought you said you weren't coming again," she said.
Anna stepped forward into the light spilling from the porch lamp. Her eyes didn't find Jo at first; her head turned to the left, towards the sound of men's voices, not laughing, but lively enough to be heard from outside. She looked angry, and she continued to look angry when her gaze flicked down to Jo, sitting alone on the steps of the porch.
"You're going after Lucifer? All of you?"
"Yeah," said Jo, leaning back to meet accusatory eyes. "Why, do you want to help or something?"
"Since when do you have a death wish, Jo? You don't really think you're going to kill Lucifer tomorrow. You're just going to end up dead." Her voice sounded strained, cracking on the last word.
"We've got the Colt," Jo said.
Anna rolled her eyes. "It's not going to work," she said flatly.
"You have no fucking clue if it's going to work! At least we're trying something, unlike you - you - " Jo broke off and took a deep breath. "Just leave, okay? You're not helping. Same as always."
Anna took another step, forcing Jo to crane her neck to avoid a view of nothing but midsection. Mustering her best defiant look, she stood up. Jo Harvelle wasn't going to shrink from facing down anyone, not even an angel.
"Don't think I won't tell them you're here this time. I'm sure they'd be real pleased to hear how you've been avoiding them."
"You're not fooling me, Jo. I'd be gone before they could get here anyway." She paused and something stole over her face, a sort of softness, like a guilty and flickering moon half-seen through a cloud. "Just... don't go tomorrow. Even if you can't convince Dean and Sam to call the whole plan off, just don't go with them. Please. It's useless."
Jo was already shaking her head. "No way. No way, I can't - I wouldn't just leave them like that. Besides, they're right. It's the only shot we have."
The softness didn't leave Anna's eyes when she glared and something twisted in Jo's stomach because she couldn't quite pretend that she didn't care that this goodbye, this maybe-I'm-dying-tomorrow was hurting Anna. Because there was a bond there between them, Anna had helped her once and then they had kept this secret, even from her mother she had kept it. Secrets had a way of tying people together.
"You stupid, stubborn woman," Anna said. "Just... so stupid and stubborn. You and all the rest of them."
And then she placed her hands on either side of Jo's face and kissed her, warm and firm and with a force that made Jo unbalance a little. Of their own accord, Jo's fingers gripped Anna's coat and she clung, her stomach still full of twisting and now heat as well. This was not something that made sense. She might die tomorrow and an angel was kissing her.
But then, nothing ever made sense. So when Anna broke the kiss, Jo leaned forward just a little to capture her lips again. Only for a moment, as if to show that she could do it, too.
Anna's fingers trailed down her cheek, smoothing sadness and care into her skin. Then she placed one more, swift kiss on Jo's forehead, like a talisman, and stepped back.
"I'll be watching for you," she said. "If I can, I'll watch out for you."
Then there was nothing but the sound of wings. Jo let out a shuddering breath. Something had changed a little; she had a little more hope and a little more fear. But her resolve was the same. One kiss couldn't change loyalties, and everything she was loyal to was in the house at her back.
Still, she sat down on the steps again. There was no need to go in just yet.