I want Ruby-Jo interaction on the actual show so much it's not even funny. Sadly, an obstacle in fulfilling such a sentiment is their death. I searched for some Ruby-Jo friendship fics to remedy this, but found none. Other events and occurences later, this story happens.

Expect some Dean/Jo (something I want more than a Ruby-Jo friendship) and some Sam/Ruby. (That's supposed to be where the "lovesick" part comes in.)

No rights to Supernatural.

Normally, Jo wouldn't bother answering her phone in the middle of life-threatening combat, but a glance at the caller I.D. on her cell phone told her that it was probably important.

She fired off her shotgun and her opponent was flung backwards, taking a few wooden tables down with her. The remaining squatters in the bar finally got the sense to scurry for safety.

As her opponent regained her composure, naturally impervious to bullets, Jo flipped open her phone.

"Sam, if this isn't important . . ." she warned. She'd already assumed it was. The Winchesters rarely called her, which she kind of resented.

"Jo, where are you?" a frantic voice replied.

"Idaho, why?" she asked, firing off another shot as the monster got to her feet, sending her to the floor again.

"It's Dean. He's gone."

Jo liked Dean. In fact, at times, she really liked Dean. But somehow, she wasn't very concerned. "Have you checked all the local bars?"

"Jo, I'm serious."

"Look, Sam," Jo began, approaching her stumbling opponent, "it's not like you haven't run off before. Soon enough, your brotherly bond will draw you both back together and you can ride your Impala into the sunset all before supper."

"I don't think it's that simple," Sam went on. "Jo, he left without the car."

Oh. Now, it was serious. Dean without the Impala was like Batman without a cape.

"Where'd you last see him?" Jo pressed.

"Last night in our motel. He went to sleep first."

"What's the last thing you guys hunted?"

"A werewolf in Lubbock, Texas, but we killed it. I killed it. It wouldn't come after him."

"What's the last thing you let get away?" Jo continued.

There was a pause, as if he was thinking hard under an intense crime crunch. Jo was surprised he could think at all without his wingman. "Um . . ." a pained voice started, "probably some demons."

"Well, there's your answer, hot stuff," Jo threw up her hand with the shotgun in it.

As she brought the gun back down to her side, it was suddenly wrenched from her grasp. Her opponent grabbed in by the nose and pulled it toward her, hopping to her feet in time to point the weapon back at her.

"Crap," Jo muttered, her hand feeling uncharacteristically empty. "Sam, can I call you back?"

"Tell Sam I say 'hey,'" her opponent requested snarkily.

Jo shrugged, not seeing the harm in it. "Some evil thing says 'hey.'"

"That voice . . ." Sam trailed off thoughtfully. "Is that . . . ?"

"Bye, Sam," Jo flipped the phone closed in shoved it into her jean pocket, then turned her attention to her rival. "Now, sweetie, let me ask nicely first: Can I have that back, please?"

"Sure," the monster shrugged, exaggeratedly cooperative. "One condition, though."

"And what would that be?" Jo put her hands on her hips.

The blonde monster threw up the gun and caught it, facing its front towards the ceiling. A much less threatening position. "You hear me out."

Jo, squinted her eyes skeptically, but cautiously agreed. "Okay, shoot."

"My name is Ruby," she revealed, "and no matter what you see me eyes do, I'm not a demon."

Eye blackening is why Jo had attacked her in the first place. That sort of thing does just happen to humans willy-nilly.

"Any way you could make your story a little more believable?" Jo requested.

"Yes, actually," Ruby nodded perkily. "Here, hold this." She threw the gun back to Jo, and since it was such a gesture of good faith, Jo decided not to try shooting her again for a little while.

Ruby hopped over the bar, rummaged around the shelves, and retrieved a container of salt. She slid her jacket off one arm at a time, and then made sure she had Jo's attention. She proceeded to pour a fountain of salt down the length of her right arm.

"See?" Ruby said, unfazed. "Doesn't hurt a bit."

"Then explain the black-eyed moment," Jo pressed.

"Word to the wise," she began, returning the salt container, "don't dabble in witchcraft, and especially don't try to make yourself immortal."

"Is that what happened to you?"

"It's exactly what happened to me," Ruby nodded, sliding her jacket back on and shaking salt out of the sleeves. "Naturally, I'm not immortal, but my eyes go black and only a select few things can kill me, which are conveniently some characteristics held by a certain species I'd rather not be associated with."

Ruby glanced over at Jo as she readjusted her collar. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm suspicious," Jo corrected.

A question suddenly sprang to Jo's mind that probably should have come up earlier.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

Ruby tried to smile warmly, but it still came off as a sort of smirk as she replied, "To help you save Dean Winchester."

Why, yes, that was quite short.

Anyway, this might be updated kind of slowly. Apologies if that happens. Perhaps working on four simultaneous fics wasn't the smartest of plans.