Title: Divine Intervention

Author: WelshWitch1011

Pairing: Dean/Jo

Rating: T (A very 'Adult' T)

Written for the lovely AshesatMidnight Fanfic for the annual FFAA 'FAGE' fic exchange. The fabulous banner for this fic was made by the equally lovely, GeneralofFanfiction.

Prompt – 'A time travel demon with a grudge'. (Which I took slight liberties with... I hope this is okay!)

It was a strange, yet not wholly unwelcome feeling that had settled upon Dean Winchester.

Though it was not a condition he remembered having previously experienced in his adult life, laying there on the old, threadbare couch, with Christmas lights twinkling in the darkness, and the sound of the fire crackling merrily beside him, Dean felt contentment wash over him.

Of course, he figured the reason for his current high spirits had little to do with the festive season, or even the slow run of recent hunts.

He knew it was undoubtedly due to the woman in his arms.

Dropping an affectionate kiss to the top of her blonde head, Dean stretched languidly and closed his eyes.

Jo grinned and released an equally content and sated sigh, murmuring in appreciation as his hand dipped below the blanket that was draped over their cooling bodies, and began a slow exploration of her skin.

"You so planned this," she accused, opening her eyes to hold him in a tellingly half-hearted glare.

Dean chuckled and cast an amused gaze over toward the floor beside the fire, where a dozen or so gifts lay waiting for attention from the sheets of wrapping paper and yards of coloured ribbon that now lay abandoned at their side.

"What can I say?" Dean smirked, glancing down as Jo's fingertips lightly traced over the tattoo on his chest, "I prefer the unwrapping."

"Uh-huh," she nodded , giggling melodiously as he suddenly flipped them over on the couch and began to industriously pepper her neck with kisses, swirling his tongue against her skin until she writhed beneath him.

"Dean, stop... Sam will be back any second," she warned, quickly forgetting about her protest the second his lips met hers.

"Relax, Sam's on a date. He won't be back until morning," Dean argued, smiling alluringly as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers. He smirked as she slid her hand up around the back of his neck, dragging him down for another kiss.

"Mmm, I guess," she breathed, biting down on her already kiss swollen lip as his kisses began a slow descent from her neck, and his hand wandered with clear intent up her inner thigh. His warm, wet mouth enclosed around a pebbled nipple, and Jo's fingers tangled urgently in his hair as he then lavished the same attention on her other breast, devouring her body with a hunger that made her heady with desire.

Dean drew back and watched her reaction intently, and his green eyes shone with unchecked lust as his fingertips teased her sensitive flesh. His heart rate invariably began to climb as he slid a finger slowly into the tight, wet, heat of her body, and her hips arched wantonly against his hand as he curled his finger and began to rub an especially sensitive spot. Flickering the tip of his tongue into her navel, he dragged his kisses lower, grinning against her taut abdomen as he slipped a second finger inside her and she let out a high, breathy moan of approval.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Jo winced, her eyes snapping open suddenly as she withdrew her arm from around Dean's back and began to route around underneath her body.

"Jo?" Dean frowned in concern and instantly halted his ministrations, but an amused chuckle passed from his lips seconds later as she finally produced the cause of her discomfort.

She held aloft the small, plastic tape dispenser and sighed, as Dean simply smiled in relief and tossed the offending item over his shoulder.

"Okay Romeo, I think it's time we moved this upstairs," Jo stated, arching an eyebrow that left little room for disagreement. The gesture reminded Dean far too much of Ellen for him not to instantly give in to her demands, and Jo was all to aware of the power that one stony faced gesture had over him.

"We could just..." Dean began, smiling charmingly as he bit down lightly against her shoulder and eyed the path of clothes strewn across the living room floor with smug delight.

Jo intercepted his expression and she rolled her eyes as she bit back a smile of her own. "Remind me again why I married you?" She feigned a contemplative frown as she stared up at the ceiling and awaited the cocksure response she knew he would almost certainly provide.

Grinning widely, Dean lifted her left hand and stared down at the brand new, gleaming gold band that sat snugly on her finger. "Sweetheart, please. You were crushing on me from the moment we met..."

Widening her eyes in surprise, Jo nodded in apparent agreement, "When I socked you in the face, you mean?" Her smile suddenly mirrored his, and Dean bristled at the memory of her admittedly deadly right hook.

"Alright, alright," he narrowed his eyes, only able to maintain his gruff expression for a few seconds before her infectious smile shattered his façade, and he instead silenced her with a toe curling kiss.

"Mmmm, now I remember why," Jo murmured, reaching up and pressing her palm to his cheek as they exchanged adoring glances.

His expression sobering momentarily, Dean leant into her touch and brushed his lips reverently against her palm. "I know I don't say it very often, but... I love you, you know?" he said softly, peering down into the depths of her brown eyes to emphasize the sincerity of his words.

Her smile told him in no uncertain terms that she knew, and Jo bobbed her head slowly and swept the pad of her thumb over his lips. "I love..."

The sound of voices suddenly drifting from the back porch simultaneously caught their attention, and it didn't take long for both hunters to realise that Sam and his date would be walking through the door any second.

"Crap!" Jo's eyes widened as she surveyed the incredibly conspicuous trail of clothing, and the abandoned parcels beside the fire.

"What the hell?" Dean shook his head in confusion, leaning up to allow Jo to escape from beneath him and wrap the blanket around her body to preserve what little modesty the situation would allow. "They're on a date!"

"Well, I guess Sam isn't as big a man whore as his brother," Jo shrugged, attempting to gather up her underwear as Dean fished her red bra from beneath the Christmas tree with a distracted grin.

"Focus!" Jo snapped, slapping him lightly across the back of the head as she heard a key jamming in the lock.

Sighing in exasperation, Dean climbed to his feet and stalked toward her, hoisting her over his shoulder in a single sweeping gesture that caused a surprised shriek and giggle to catch in her throat.

"Dean!" she hissed, closing her eyes as the stair banister edged a little too close for comfort toward her head.

Landing a enthusiastic, silencing slap to her rear, Dean stomped heavily up the wooden stairs, happily reaching the top before his brother and his new girlfriend were greeted to the sight of his naked, retreating backside.

"What about the gifts?" Jo began, trying to recall if she'd gotten around to wrapping Sam's collection of gifts before Dean had offered to 'help', and begun his obviously premeditated, yet not unwelcome seduction.

"Sam won't look," Dean shrugged dismissively, opening the door to their bedroom with a flourish, before depositing her in the centre of their unmade bed.

Jo shook her head and rolled her eyes at his attitude, but as he kicked their door shut and advanced toward her wearing nothing other than a lascivious smile, she found herself quickly distracted by the insistent tug of desire in the pit of her stomach.

Tossing the pile of clothing she still held hugged to her chest, Jo heard them land with a muffled thud on the floor the second before Dean settled into her open arms.

Staring down at her lips as her arms fastened around him, Dean paused and affixed her with a strangely contemplative stare.

It had been two years and two months since Carthage, the day he had almost lost her to the vicious claws of a hell hound. The memory still weighed heavily upon him, as did the thought that Jo almost sacrificed herself to save him.

Stricken with fear, and feeling grief settle upon him he had watched her begin to slip away, a crimson pool staining the floor of the old hardware store. He grieved for the chances that were to be taken from them, and cursed himself for never having had the courage to tell her the truth; to tell her that in every dream he'd ever had about a future, she was the one beside him.

With a bomb grudgingly constructed, and the fuse pressed guiltily into her palm, their first and final kiss had been interrupted by the welcome flutter of a trench coat.

Minutes later, Castiel disappeared without so much as an attempt to reply to the numerous questions that were suddenly hurled at him. But Jo Harvelle was once again unharmed and very much alive. And to Dean and Ellen at least, that was all that truly mattered.

Contact with the celestial being had been fleeting after that, and neither parties spoke of the event, which seemed to suit them both. The hunters did not wish to relive those terrifying moments, and Dean assumed that Castiel was simply shying away from any discussion that might provoke human emotion.

That was before the war in heaven, of course; before Cas had become their enemy.

"Dean?" Jo repeated his name, smiling up at him as she gently stroked her fingertip against the frown line that had formed across the bridge of his nose, "you okay?"

Nodding his head, Dean bestowed a reassuring smile upon her. Threading his fingers through hers, he leaned down and kissed her, content to once again lose himself in her arms.

Dean Winchester was more than okay; for the first time in his life, he was happy.


"So, can I get you something to drink?" Sam asked nervously, walking behind the stunningly pretty brunette who he had been dating for the past month. Much to his own surprise.

"Sure," she bobbed her head, jamming her hands into the pockets of her jeans as she allowed him to direct her toward the living room. Sam frowned as he became aware of the first impression Bobby's less than homely décor would undoubtedly provoke, but so far the young woman's smile had yet to shift.

"I'm sorry, the place hasn't been decorated for a while..." Sam began, halting as his date shook her head and her smile widened at his proceeding quip, "probably since the Kennedy administration."

"No, I like it... It's a little like my grandpa's old place, kind of homey," she stated, smiling pointedly up at him as he appeared stunned by her apparent appreciation for Bobby's less than Martha Stewart-esque efforts.

Ellen of course had plans to redecorate, knock out walls and generally spruce up the place, and though Bobby objected, the hunters all knew it was only a matter of time before the Harvelle matriarch got her way.

Of course, all the hunters also knew that Bobby and Ellen were secretly an item, but each pretended to be oblivious to the affectionate gestures and glances between the two,.

Banishing the less than palatable thoughts of Bobby engaged in any kind of dating activity from his mind, Sam shook his head absently and gestured back toward the kitchen, "A drink. Right. Sorry. Uh, we got soda, beer... I can make coffee..."

"A beer would be great, thanks," she smiled gratefully, watching Sam hurry off to the refrigerator as she made her way hesitantly towards the living room, and the promise of a warming fire.

Sam appeared behind her and handed her the chilled bottle which she accepted with a quiet 'thanks', but her soft chuckle of surprise and widened eyes quickly caught his attention.

Following her gaze to the source of her amusement, Sam groaned inwardly and offered her an apologetic smile as she took in the scattered gift wrap, ribbons and perhaps more importantly, the clothing still littering the floor.

"I'm so sorry," Sam began, stooping down as he gathered up items of Dean's clothing and a sweater he knew belonged to his equally amorous sister in law.

"My brother just got married and... and they're in some kind of... honeymoon phase and..." he paused, his statement helpfully punctuated by the sound of bed springs from above.

"Apparently," she giggled, clearing her throat as she diplomatically took a sip of beer.

Making a mental note to murder his sibling in the morning, Sam tried to dispel the blush that rose up his own cheeks and directed his date toward the nearest armchair. He perched on the edge of the couch beside her, glancing behind him uncertainly as he tried not to imagine what may or may not have happened in the spot he now sat.

"So...How's the research going?" Sam asked, hoping his ploy of changing the subject would somehow successfully distract them both from the noises that were emanating from above.

It was nice to have someone to speak to who was arguably of the same academic level for a change; it wasn't that Dean wasn't smart, but his interests definitely lay in less scholastic areas than his sibling's.

He watched as her face lit up with his question, and Sam took a moment to cast a lingering gaze over the woman beside him.

Holly Taylor was a Ph.D. student at the local college, studying parapsychology. They had met whilst gathering information on a hunt months before, but it had only been on Jo's urging, and with her less than subtle meddling, that Sam had finally called to ask Holly on a date.

Both Dean and Jo had instantly caught the attraction between the pair, yet as both appeared as socially awkward as each other, they figured they'd need a 'little push' in the right direction.

Holly was as beautiful as she was smart, with a mane of dark chestnut curls and the brightest blue eyes Sam thought he'd ever seen. They were an excellent match in every way and genuinely enjoyed each other's company.

So, despite Sam's current chagrin and less than charitable feelings toward his brother and new sister in-law, he had to admit that were it not for Jo, he and Holly would most probably have missed their chance.

Holly paused in discussing the merits of the new research labs at her facility, and dug down the side of the chair as a shred of red fabric caught her attention.

Sam's breath caught in his chest, and he turned several different shades of red as Holly held up a pair of panties that more than matched her boyfriend's current complexion.

"I am so, so sorry," Sam's lips pulled into a tight line, as he simply stared in horror at the lingerie.

"Hey, long as they're not yours, we're good," Holly laughed, dropping the article down onto the arm of the chair as she placed her beer down beside them and climbed to her feet.

"Uh, no," Sam grinned, finding her laughter infectious despite his abject embarrassment.

Holly paused before him and reached out her hand, and he sighed happily the second her palm kissed his.

A look of evident confusion settled upon his features as Holly pulled him to his feet, and she leant up to brush her lips against his.

Leading him wordlessly toward the stairs in the direction of his room, she answered his silent query and flashed him a mischievous smile. "You know what they say, Sam... If you can't beat them, join them."


The bounds of heaven are endless. Plains of existence where souls seek their final rest, or wait to be sent down to earth to begin their journey. Infinite heavens exist, housing whole families in surroundings a mirror image of those they inhabited on earth. Lonely lovers wait patiently, preparing the home they have built in this other world for the soul who will complete their heaven - and though they watch over them in sadness at their parting, the promise of being reunited someone dulls the sting of their tears. Years on earth pass by in little more than minutes, and the souls who are now at rest do so safe from the fears or pain that the earth inflicted upon them.

Warriors, poets, mystics and lovers, from every age since the dawn of man; an endless number of souls.

Yet God knows each one, he knows the life that he had planned for them to live. He knows the exact moment that soul will be called home, down to the very minute and second they will once again gaze upon their maker.

Which is why later on that evening, as Castiel, now self-ordained as the ruler of all creation, gazed down upon his kingdom, the sudden addition of an extra soul instantly captured his attention.