Title: Pining Is For Suckers
Rating: R, because of swearing.
Notes: Originally posted on Dreamwidth as a joke. Set murkily in season 2, and is kind of my response to the idea that Joanna Beth Harvelle would ever fucking pine for anyone.
Summary: Of course she ends up pregnant.
Of course she ends up pregnant.
Not that they didn't use protection (condoms, spermicide, and her goddamn, fucking useless birth control patch of shit), but of course Dean Fucking Winchester has super sperm. That, apparently, only activates in Joanna Harvelle's vagina, otherwise the country would be suffering from a dramatic spike in Winchester DNA. Shit that's a scary image.
The sex wasn't even that good.
Okay, fine, she'd gotten off, and he'd (obviously) gotten off, but she'd ended up with splinters in her shoulders and had accidentally (okay, not really accidentally) given him a concussion after he'd dropped her bare-assed onto the pavement of the alley behind the bar. Because really. GROSS.
Not exactly a story she wants to share with Junior. Although, if Junior is as much of a moron as she, apparently, is, it might be a good cautionary tale. "Don't fuck men in alleys, sweetie!" And yeah, that's good advice even if it's a girl.
The worst part (an this includes the fact that she's gestating Winchester DNA, which is like a goddamn beacon for demons and stupidity, and fuck, she's going to have to move to Utah and put up with Mormons for the rest of the kid's life just so she'll be surrounded by enough salt) is that she's going to have to tell her mother. The one who'd warned her, repeatedly, and with great volume against the dangers of Hunting AND Winchester DNA. Mind you 'adrenaline-fueled fucking' as a side-effect and spunk probably hadn't been what her mother meant.
The stabby-death and betrayal bit had been the main feature, but if she really thinks about it the rest was probably implied. A little.
Really, it's the anticipation of her mother's face, with that smug "I told-you-so" eyebrow and the "You are a fucking MORON." chaser that's more intimidating that actually telling Dean. Also, Dean's true location is a complete mystery (the cell phone number she'd had went dead fifteen minutes after Sam pealed out of the bar's parking lot, which had been more than fine at the time, because rats peed back there) so whatever.
She's got to tell her mother that she's broke AND pregnant, and as soon as her mother remembers that punching pregnant women isn't really the best idea (hopefully before the sixth or seventh blow) the woman's just going to laugh herself sick.
Of all the fucking (HAHA, NOT) ways to get Jo to stop Hunting demons and other things that go bump in the night, she's pretty sure this definitely wasn't one of the ways on Ellen Harvelle's list. Then again, given the sheer amount of alcohol bottles that'd gotten thrown around during their last 'discussion' of Jo's career, maybe it had gotten added later. She wouldn't put it past her mother to control the entire fucking universe and toss this little bit of karma in her direction.
Might explain the birth control failure.
Fucking reality. Fucking Dean Fucking Winchester and his stupid pretty face that, if she sees him ever again, will definitely not be very pretty after an encounter with the butt of her sawed-off. Fucking hormones. Fucking fucking.
Really, she only has one option.
It's not like he's using his real identity, and credit card fraud is almost like child support.
Maybe there's a bar on a salt-flat in Utah that's for sale. Nothing else, she can take up gun-running in the basement. Plus, it's really far away from her mother.