A/N: You know what today is? It's Sam's birthday! As a token of Dean and Jo 'shipper affection, let's all run out and leave her some great reviews as a special birthday treat. *sings* Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Silverspoon! Happy birthday to you!

Sam - I hope you have enjoyed this little gift...and that you find the final entry is a worthy cap on the series. Thanks for all the smiles, inspiration and encouragement. I hope you've had a spectacular day worthy of how wonderful you are!

Can I get some great big Dean hugs for my pal and beta stephaniew? We wouldn't be here without her help and support. Thanks, Steph, for all the little (and not so little) things you do on a daily basis. You, my dear, are a truly amazing friend.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

From the Heart

Jo slams the passenger door as she gets out of the car. "What'd Dean have to do that was so damn important?" she yells. "And why couldn't you've handled this yourself?"

Sam sighs, his brother's words echoing in his ears. Just get her there, Sammy. I'll do the rest. Stepping beside her, he places a hand on Jo's back and propels her into Uncommon Grounds.

"What kinda ghost haunts a coffee shop, anyway?" she bites. Seeing the sandwich board sign with it's cheerful chalk lettering brings an additional growl. "And it just had to be open mike night, didn't it?"

Sam tries to smile and shrugs his shoulders. "He just said for us to check it out." Looking at her, he knows she still feels like crap. Attempting to soften her, he steers her to a chair near the stage and says, "Look, why don't you just sit and relax, okay? I'll see what's going on."

Jo drops onto the soft leather cushion with little protest and Sam gets her a mug of tea. Other patrons mill about, finally coming to settle into neighboring chairs and couches. A man drags a stool to the middle of the stage and leans against it with a microphone in hand.

"Hello and welcome to Uncommon Grounds' Open Mike Night," he says with a grin. "We try to do these every couple weeks - opening the floor to artists of all types - and we've got a couple special performances tonight. Thanks for coming out and enjoy the show!"

Jo rolls her eyes at a comic who talks about stupid things her boyfriend has done. Making messes. Being demanding. Not trusting her. He's got nothin' on Dean, she thinks with a wry smile. Though at least Dean's flaws, while frustrating, were more lovable than obnoxious.

Her eyes search the room for Sam and she spots him talking to the man from the stage. Their conversation appears easy, natural. Maybe there isn't a hunt here after all, she thinks to herself.

Getting up, she begins to walk to the counter when a deep voice stops her in her tracks. "I don't usually do this kinda thing," he says, idly strumming the strings of a guitar. "But I've sorta been a real asshat lately and well..."

Spinning around, she sees Dean sitting on the stool and her jaw drops. The mug falls from her fingertips and smashes against the tiled floor, but she doesn't move. She gulps as their eyes meet. Green eyes shining, he stares back at her and begins to sing as though they're the only ones in the room.

"I can't fight this feelin' any longer, and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow," his voice is soft, his gaze glued to her face. "What started out as friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had a way to let it show."

A tear trickles down her cheek at the memory of the day they met. The way she'd held him at gunpoint in the Roadhouse. She thinks about how Dean and Sam rescued her from the spirit of H.H. Holmes. About how they formed a playful friendship, sparring with and teasing each other even when they were miles apart.

"I tell myself that I can't hold out forever, I say there is no reason for my fear. 'Cause I feel so secure when we're together. You give my life direction, you make everything so clear."

Dean's fingers falter slightly on the cords, though his voice remains strong. He knows he can't hold out anymore. Knows life - especially the life of a hunter - is far too short. And she does make him secure. She gives him peace and fills him with hope every time she smiles or cuddles closer. He's not sure what's held him back, but he knows now that she is his path. That's completely clear.

"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight. You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night. And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might."

Jo struggles to breathe. She remembers the first night they fell together her like it was yesterday. He'd been broken and bloodied. And scared. She'd never seen Dean look so terrified. She'd patched him up and he'd kissed her in the glow of the old jukebox. He told her about the deal he'd made for Sam and they'd cried in each other's arms. Later, they'd found themselves in her bedroom and made love in the flicker of candlelight when a storm took the power out.

"I can't fight this feelin' anymore. I've forgotten what I started fightin' for. It's time to bring this ship into the shore and throw away the oars forever. 'Cause I can't fight this feelin' anymore. I've forgotten what I started fightin' for and if I had to crawl across the floor, come crashin' through your door, baby, I can't fight this feelin' anymore."

A smile touches Dean's lips. He knows now why his dad became obsessed with hunting the demon that killed Mary. He knows he'd be the same way if he ever lost Jo. As if she senses his thoughts, she comes to him and he sets aside the guitar to wrap his arms around her.

"I know I'm no Kevin Cronin," he says softly. Brushing his knuckles over her cheek, he tucks her hair behind her ear. "But I mean it..."

Her hands resting on his shoulders, a shy smile paints its way over her face and into her eyes. Licking her lips and looking into his eyes, she answers, "I'm afraid I'm gonna need you to spell it out for me, Dean-O..."

He gives her a lopsided grin. "I'm tired of holding it back, Jo," he says. Leaning in, his mouth slides over hers. It's hot and wet, it searches and reaches for something deeper. Something he finds when her knees buckle and she melts further into his arms.

That's when he pulls back. His eyes find hers and he sees everything he wants for the foreseeable future. "I love you." His tone is clear and true, his gaze unwavering. "So much, babe..."

Jo launches up on tiptoe, sealing her lips to Dean's. She nibbles his lower lip before ghosting her tongue against his. She's smiling when they part breathlessly. "I love you, too."

Dean beams, running his hands up her back. "Yeah?" he asks.

Jo nods and finds herself consumed by another kiss. A kiss that's rudely interrupted when someone in the audience yells, "If I'da wanted to see a chick-flick, I'd've gone to the movies!"

Prying his eyes away from Jo, Dean turns to the man with a stern look and points a finger. "Shut your piehole!"

Leaning her head against his shoulder, Jo laces her fingers with Dean's. "He's not even worth it," she laughs looking up at him. "Take me home?"

Grabbing the neck of the guitar, he allows her to guide him off the stage. Winking at Sam as they hit the door, he drags Jo to the Impala. "Let's get outta here."

A/N: Hmm...I may have to write that one next. Until next time, thanks for reading... ;)