#harvelle’s roadhouse

[thebeautyofspn]

2x05 Simon Said

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

On November 19, 2009, Dean said "I'll see you in the other side. Probably sooner than later." Jo told him "Make it later." Dean died November 19, 2020.

[mishaesque]

Scenic Supernatural 2.05 Simon Said

[dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy]

PLEASE DONT COME FOR ME WITH HATE.

i love women.

i love women.

and i loved Lisa for Dean because she truly helped him and they wouldve been a great couple- not that they were my favorite couple but they wouldve been a great one.

i LOVE ellen harvelle.

and i love Alona Tal 🫶🏻

but fuck jo i never liked her.

NO HATE TO WHO DOES- LISTEN SHE IS ALL YOURS. But she irked me. I blame the writers, she couldve been a better character.

[bloodydeanwinchester]

1k follower make me choose

—  @charlieshandmaiiden: Andy Gallagher or Ash

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

🧡 The Past and Pending 🐎

jo & young claire fic - 4.7k - rating: G - canon compliant - read on ao3

Jo watches the family hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen. Jo supposes she once looked like that, too.

16th May, 2004. Nine years to the day since Jo's father's death, she is nineteen and working her usual shift in the Roadhouse bar. The Novak family stop by during a summer storm as they travel through the state, and Jo has the chance to bond with a seven year old Claire over horses, their love for their fathers, and leather jackets.

written for my 2024 jo's joyous birthday celebrations!! prompts were orange, horse girl, and leather jacket, which were fun to weave in. enjoy <3

read below the cut!

16th May 2004.

It’s been a slow day at the Roadhouse, the tepid May heat turning beers warm but the bouts of summer rain keeping Jo from her usual restless walks outside. The bar is gloomy and a little stifling and it’s nine years to the day since the death of her father. 

By the evening Jo is working the bar, in view of the entrance. Every time the door scrapes open and the creaky floorboard goes, she is hit with one of two alternating images. The first is her father, home from his hunt, leather jacket fitted on his solid body with a smile on his face. His arms are spread wide waiting for her hug. Each time it is not him, she is forced to remember how his leather jacket is hanging emptily from a hook behind the bar and that every time she pictures his face she gets it a little more wrong.

The second image is of Uncle Bobby, hunched and sad, his grief silhouetted in the doorway light as he brings the sorry news. Her dad’s leather jacket in his hands, all that was left of him. What news does he bring this time? How many dead? The first image fills her with sorrow, the second with fear, both memories rising to the surface on the anniversary like crumbs in beer.

Jo mindlessly wipes down the bar, any tears that land on the countertop instantly disappearing beneath the cloth. It’s just one of those days. Ellen is in the back, unpacking the delivery that came in the morning, also quieter than usual. At least they’re not screaming at each other. That’s something. 

The front door scrapes the floor as it swings open and Jo is called back to the present. She brushes her eyes once with the back of her hand, the one holding the rag, as if she’s only wiping sweat from her forehead. When she turns to face the new customers Jo knows no one will be able to tell she was crying. She’s good at things like that. 

“Heya, what can I get for you?” she calls over the bar, and then instantly sighs as she sees the newcomers. Neither of the images in her head have materialized, but a third, more frustrating one has: civilians. 

A man and a woman, married, but still fairly young, hover uncertainly in the doorway. The wife’s hair is that uninteresting midway between blonde and brunette, cut sensibly to her shoulders but clearly styled. The husband’s hair is much darker and would probably curl if not for his serious and slick side parting. The first thing Jo notices about them is their hair because this is the most immediately interesting thing about them; other than that, they look incredibly boring. Normal. 

Then, from behind the man’s legs, peers a young girl. A child with a sweet tangerine gingham dress and curious eyes, maybe seven or so. Jo watches the girl take in the Roadhouse, with its burly, surly hunters hunched uninvitingly over tables marked with the questionable stains from fights and alcohol which make every surface slightly sticky. 

The husband is shaking his head, gesturing round at the bar with a displeased hand. “We should go,” Jo catches him saying, “this isn’t our kind of establishment.”

Jo is too used to this happening to be offended. Besides, she always thinks why cater to civilians anyway, when they’re a hunter bar first and foremost?

But the wife stands her ground. “She needs to eat, Jimmy. We all need a break, we’ve been driving for so long. And the sooner we get home, the sooner we outrun that storm.” 

Jimmy sighs, then nods. The trio shuffle awkwardly towards the bar, the child nervous at her father’s heels. She’s very blonde, as blonde as Jo. 

“I know we look like it, but we don’t bite,” Jo says, mainly to the girl. She earns the trace of a smile for her troubles.

Jimmy has the decency to look a little regretful. “I’m sorry, it’s been a… long drive. We haven’t had to travel quite this far before.”

“Well, that’s what the Roadhouse is here for. What can I get you?”

The options are limited, so it doesn’t take long for the family to decide on burgers, fries, and juices all round. Jo manages to keep her face straight at the drinks order. Most of the Roadhouse clientele would drink the rainwater outside rather than order fruit juice. If it wasn’t obvious enough already, the glimmer of evening light making its way through the window catches on the cross pendant visible through the open top button of Jimmy’s collar, and confirms the family’s faith. 

They go and find a table, choosing one by the window, to sit and drink their juices at. Jo sets about sorting the rest of their order, pottering about between the kitchen and the bar to serve it all up. 

She’s halfway through plating the fries when movement catches the corner of her eye and she spins to see the young girl clambering up one of the high stools at the bar, the seat teetering a little under her weight.

“Hey,” Jo says, maybe a little meanly. Mostly caught by surprise. “What are you doing?”

The girl’s face falls into a round, guilty oh as she finally settles, kneeling, on the seat. “I just wanted to see what was behind.”

Jo nods, calming now that her initial panic at the girl’s movement has subsided. “That’s fine, just make sure you’re careful up there, alright? It’s a tall seat and you’re a—a small little body.”

“One day I’m going to be bigger and every seat in my house is going to be a tall seat,” the girl decides with a jut of her chin. 

The comment hits Jo at such an angle it cracks her, and she barks out a laugh. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo. What’s your name?”

“Claire,” she answers. Then, with the precision of a child who has had politeness strongly instilled in her, asks, “and what’s yours?”

“Jo.”

“I thought that was a boy’s name.”

“It is,” Jo says. She gets a familiar burst of pride with it, but it feels awkwardly shallow with Claire looking up at her, so she follows with, “but it’s a girl’s name too. My full name is Joanna-Beth.”

Claire breathes a little woah . “That’s such a pretty name.”

“Huh. Um, thanks,” Jo manages. She’s never liked it, the way her mom only uses it in anger, the way her dad never used it. Joanna-Beth is someone else. Joanna-Beth is a bad daughter. Claire, though, doesn’t know any of that. 

As Jo’s cheeks tinge pink, Claire’s mom comes hastening over, ready to lift Claire down from the bar stool and back to the table. 

“Is she distracting you? I’m so sorry. Claire, love, come on—”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Jo placates earnestly. “I really don’t mind it. I was enjoying our chat.”

Claire beams at her. “So was I, mommy.”

Claire’s mom looks between the two of them—Jo wonders what goes on in her head as she does, two such naive-looking girls set against the backdrop of the Roadhouse—and then nods. “Well, you just give me or Jimmy a shout if you need a hand.”

“Thanks. I’m not great with kids, so I might need to,” Jo answers with a smile. It’s the truth; she’s never had much practice.

The woman raises a doubtful eyebrow. “Well, you seem to be doing a good job so far.”

Jo nods, unsure what to do with the praise. 

“I’m Amelia, if you need me,” supplies Amelia instead.

“I’m Jo.”

“It’s short for Joanna-Beth,” Claire pipes up, the awe still palpable in her voice. 

Amelia laughs, nodding, and runs a hand through Claire’s sleek pigtails. “Pretty name,” she tells Jo, before heading back to her husband at the table. 

It’s the complement of the hour, it seems. Jo nods again, head bobbing unassuredly like one of the lame figures in Ash’s room, as she gets back to plating up the meals under Claire’s careful surveillance. 

“You’ve got horses on your butt,” Claire says after ten full seconds of silence. 

“What? Oh,” Jo laughs, turning in vain to glance at the horses embroidered over the back pockets of her jeans. She found them in the thrift store in town. They weren’t cheap, the horses stitched in mid-gallop over the pockets boosting the price considerably. But it’d felt wrong to leave the horses trapped in the sterile light of the thrift store. They deserve some warm lighting, Jo’d thought, where they can complete their run for freedom when no one is looking. The jeans are just a tad too small, so the plushy middle of her stomach bulges over them slightly, but she tries not to mind it. Anything for the horses.

“Do you like them?” she asks, wiggling her butt a little, much to Claire’s delight. 

Jo normally keeps her movements minimal, behind the bar, knowing how hunters’ eyes glue grossly to all the places she’d least like them look. She often feels like somewhat of a dancing monkey because of it, but here it’s an innocent movement with no repercussions other than Claire’s laughter.

“They’re so fun. I wish my dress had horses on like yours,” Claire says with a plaintive sigh which sounds amusingly beyond her years. 

“You like horses?” 

Claire nods eagerly. “For my next birthday mommy says I can have a riding lesson.”

“Woah! That’s so cool!” Jo says, and she’s genuinely quite excited at the idea. “I’m jealous, I wish I could ride. Then I could saddle up and go wherever I wanted all by myself.” California, she’d decided sometime long ago. Or maybe Arizona. Just somewhere west of this wasteland.

“I’ll come back and teach you once I know,” Claire answers, so earnestly Jo knows she fully believes it. 

Somehow, she can see it: Claire with her little arms crossed staring up at Jo perched precariously on a horse, calling instructions up to her. “I’d like that,” she says with a grin. “Where will you ride to, once you can ride absolutely anywhere?”

Claire considers the question deeply, the cogs whirring away visibly behind her eyes. “Well, I’d have to teach daddy and mommy how to ride too. I don’t want to go anywhere without them. But then I don’t mind.”

Jo hums. It’s a cute image, the three of them as one family riding off into the sunset. Not lost, because they’re together. It feels distant, familiar in the way the memories of a dream are; foreign. Whenever she has those fantasies of riding away now, she’s alone. She supposes that wasn’t always the case.  

“That sounds real lovely,” she finally gets out, staring down at the burger she has started stacking. She hadn’t really realized she was doing it, just running on automatic. Thinking of her father and running on automatic, the story of her life since she lost what Claire still has. 

But Claire’s concentration has dwindled and she wriggles in her seat. “Are you going to be done soon? I’m starving .” 

“Hey, you’re the one distracting me!” Jo rebuts, shaking her head clear with an exaggerated sigh for Claire’s benefit. “But tell you what, I have an idea to help you grow bigger so you can always sit on the tall seats.”

“What?” Claire asks, perking back up with excitement. 

Jo hunkers down to Claire’s level on the bar, resting her chin on her arms so they’re completely eye to eye. “If you help me carry the food to your table it’ll be like lifting weights and then you’ll get big and strong,” she says, voice low like she’s letting Claire in on a secret.

“You mean it’s ready?”

Jo pulls away with a roll of her eyes and fishes the basket of burger and fries from the countertop to present them on the bar. Impatiently, Claire reaches out to grab one, but Jo bats gently her hands away. 

“Hey, kiddo, gotta get down from the seat first.”

“I can do it myself!” Claire protests. 

But still, she doesn’t struggle as Jo comes around from behind the bar and helps lift her to the floor, Claire steadying herself against Jo’s arms. Once her feet have touched the floor, she prods at Jo’s toned tricep again with a podgy finger. 

“Your arm isn’t soft,” she points out, rather frankly. 

Jo gives her arm a squeeze in the same place Claire just did, to feel for herself. She always thinks she is too soft, too willowy; china doll in a bull farm. So although she trains as much as she can, shooting with her bow and arrow in the yard and sparring with the other hunters when they pass through, it never feels like enough. At least Claire thinks differently. 

“It’s because it’s all muscles,” she explains. She give the smooth, plushy skin of Claire’s arm a gentle poke in return. “See, you just haven’t got any yet.”

Claire frowns as she squints down at the difference between them. “I didn’t think girls could have muscles.”

Sometimes Jo looks at herself in the mirror and wishes she’d never trained at all. That she looked like all the other girls her age. Even like Claire. Here she is, jealous of a seven year old, yet knowing that this world of comparison is what Claire will inevitably grow into. Distantly and regrettably, she reminds herself of her mother.

“All girls can have muscle if they want to, and train enough,” she says, trying to keep her words on an even keel. It feels important. But she attempts to imagine little Claire in her gingham dress with muscly arms and fails. 

Claire giggles, gorgeously oblivious as she jabs at Jo’s arm again. “None of the girls at school or Sunday school are like you, Jo.”

Her throat gets a little dry. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Just a thing,” Claire notes absently, before taking the basket of greasy food from Jo’s distracted hand and sauntering over to her family with it clutched tightly in her fists. She hands it straight to her dad, who runs an affectionate hand over his daughter’s head.

“Thank you, sweetheart, this looks very lovely,” he says patiently, as she scrambles over him and onto her own seat. “Have you been kind to the nice lady?”

Jo doesn’t like that word but doesn’t have time to deal with that, recovering as she is from Claire’s rapid-fire insights. She follows the kid to the table and slides Amelia and Claire their portions, receiving grateful smiles from both Amelia and Jimmy. 

“Thank you,” the family chorus, their voices naturally falling in a pleasant harmony. 

Jo’s voice is lonely in comparison as she asks if she can get them more drinks. They turn down the offer and thank her again, Claire’s eyes glued to her food now that it’s properly in front of her. Slowly, Jo returns to her spot behind the bar, unabashedly gazing at the family from across the room.

She watches them hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry, when Claire has confessed dramatically to starvation, they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Jo doesn’t think any food prepared by her hands is really worth it, but the prayer comes out in a low and sincere murmur from Jimmy’s mouth. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen . Jo supposes she once looked like that, too. 

**

The next half hour passes with little incident, aside from a repeat round of whiskey for Shawn, Jake and Caleb in the far corner. Jo mainly watches Claire and her family eat their blessed dinner and chat, the flow easy between them. They don’t talk like most people in the Roadhouse do. They sound posher, somehow, their sentences free from apostrophes and curses. Jimmy eats his burger with a knife and fork. 

Another shower of summer rain falls, the noise heavy on the Roadhouse roof. Jo expects it to pass, but instead the weather settles like that, a consistent rumble over the bar. The storm she heard Amelia mention earlier must have caught up with them, despite their desire to outrun it. 

Jimmy and Amela must notice this too. They peer out of the window by their table into the ever-murkier evening, resignation growing on their faces.

“We need to make a move,” Jimmy says. “Get ahead of this before we get stuck.”

As if to emphasize the point, a crack of thunder echoes out around the Roadhouse. The sound travels potently over the flat Nebraska plains and the din of the first clap gives even the hunters in the corner a start. Claire lets out a small yelp and buries herself into her father’s side. 

“It’s just thunder, sweetie,” Jimmy pacifies.

Claire mumbles something into his middle in return, but Jo can’t make it out. 

“You guys finishing up?” she asks, walking over and clearing the baskets. “I’d head out before it gets worse.”

“Yes, we’d like to,” Amelia agrees, “but someone here is a little bit scared of the thunder.”

“I’m not scared,” Claire grouches, lifting a protesting head from her dad’s chest. Jo knows a liar when she sees one, knows it as she knows herself. “I just don’t want to get wet.”

Jo choses bravado and Claire choses nonchalance, but it looks like they both bury their fear. She remembers the performances she used to put on for her father to show she was capable enough to keep up with him, how loved it made her feel when he believed in her. An idea, easily shattered, starts growing in her mind, and she surges forward with it before it can break. 

“So we gotta get you out to the car without getting wet, hmm?” Jo poses quizzically. Claire looks at her suspiciously, but nods along. “I have an idea,” Jo draws out, hands on hips. “We’ll have to go behind the bar to make it work…”

Claire leaps up from her seat, curiosity winning out over anything else. Jo hasn’t even got to ask Amelia and Jimmy’s permission, their looks of gratitude are already enough. They start gathering their jackets as Jo leads Claire around, to the tantalizing world behind the bar.

“Cool,” Claire whispers. It’s the closest thing to slang she’s said all day.

Jo smiles despite herself, then readies to go through with her idea. She’s sharing the one thing of her father’s which is truly hers. If it were anyone but Claire, she wouldn’t be doing it, but something about Claire makes it feel different—makes sharing feel more like a gift which grows rather than diminishes. 

“This,” Jo says, gently lifting the supple material from where it hangs dutifully on its hook, “is my daddy’s leather jacket.”

She takes a deep breath and kneels beside Claire, offering the leather up to her for her little hands to touch. Despite the warmth of the day, the leather is still cool, and Claire’s smile grows as she slides her chestnut-sized palms along the smooth material. 

The leather is brown and worn, but still in pretty pristine condition for a jacket now going on thirty years old. Jo doubts Claire even notices the small set of hand stitches around the collar from when she stupidly tore it and needed to fix it up. It had taken her a whole afternoon tucked away in her bedroom to stitch it back together, but she’d played her dad’s vinyls the whole while and the time had spun away quickly. Even her mom was impressed by Jo’s handiwork, in the end. This jacket is the one thing of her dad that Ellen lets Jo keep, and Jo keeps it well. 

Claire’s blue eyes are wide and wondrous in her head. “It’s very nice,” she says shyly.

Jo smiles. “I know. And it’s really special to me, because my daddy isn’t around any more, so we’re going to take good care of it together.”

“Why isn’t your daddy around?” Claire asks, her forehead wrinkling with the question. She’s a kid clearly trained in courtesy, but the constant frankness to her questions give her a harder edge. If the questions didn’t sting so much, Jo would love it about her. Claire continues, “my daddy loves me so much I think he’ll be around forever.”

“Well,” Jo says carefully, slowly, stringing her words along the tightrope of her taut throat. “Sometimes it’s not a choice. My daddy died nine years ago.” She swallows the ‘today’ she could add onto the end of that sentence, feeling that detail might be a little too much for both of them in this conversation. “Here’s something I find very important to remember: just because someone leaves, doesn’t mean they stop loving you. And it doesn’t mean you stop loving them.”

Claire looks as if she might start chuckling, but then catches onto the sincerity in Jo’s tone. Her mouth falls open slightly and her plump fingers squeeze tighter at the leather jacket. “I don’t want my daddy to leave me.”

“I bet he won’t,” Jo says, placing her hands over Claire’s. They’re so small beneath her own. Warm too, like holding a little heart between her hands. 

Jo looks up at Claire, at her sandy blonde hair tied neatly into pigtails and the pretty orange gingham of her summer dress. Seven years old and so sure her daddy will never leave her. It is only the crystal blue of Claire’s irises that differ from the umber of her own, but even then, Jo supposes that they both have their father’s eyes. 

“I think we’ve got the best daddys in the world,” Jo whispers. “They love us all the time. When they’re out at the shops, when they’re away with work, when they’re up in heaven. They love us right now.” 

She swallows, hard, blinking away the tears that are refracting rainbows in her eyes. There’s a burning in her throat but she’s glad she managed to say those words, to finally get them out into the precious ears of a young girl. She smiles. Her vision is still slightly watery but clearing when she realizes Claire is giggling, a sweet blush on her cheeks. Her laughter is light and bubbly, like a stream tumbling over rocks in the sun. Like if Jo bathed in it, she would feel clean.

“Come on, we can use my daddy’s leather jacket as an umbrella to run out to the car,” she says, the idea finally coming to fruition as she stands back up again and dusts the Roadhouse floor muck from her knees. “I’ll hold it over your head so you don’t get wet.”

Claire rolls her eyes, something Jo wasn’t sure seven year olds knew enough to do, but apparently so. “But then you’re going to get wet!”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m big and strong! I can take some rain.” Jo makes a performance of flexing her arms, the odd proportions of her wide-muscled shoulders and lean frame suddenly a cause for celebration rather than insecurity when looked at through Claire’s eyes. 

“Hmm.” Claire ponders hard at Jo’s words, those cogs visibly turning again in her brain. “Okay. But you’ll have to be fast to keep up with me!” 

The kid makes a dash for the door and is surprisingly speedy on her little legs, her gingham dress swishing behind her. Jo starts after her, pitching both arms upwards so the jacket hangs from them like a tent over Claire’s head. They dash out the front door and into the delicious rain, giggling all the way until it turns into full belly laughter. The lights of the car flash when Jimmy unlocks it, and Claire kicks up water as she runs to fling open the backseat door. Jo’s jeans are splattered with it, but the rain is coming down in sheets so her whole body is soon soaked through anyway. 

Another roar of thunder booms across the open space but Claire doesn’t even notice, too busy sheltering under Jo’s jacket as she scrambles up into the car. Jo slides the leather jacket on to free up her hands and help Claire wriggle into the backseat. The girl is a step ahead of her, and clicks her seatbelt into place with a smug little grin at Jo.

“See, I am faster than you!” 

Jo laughs, feeling rainwater pool in the corners of her mouth as she does so. “Okay, you win. But I did help keep you safe from all the horrible rain and thunder.”

“Yes, you did,” Claire concedes graciously. She clearly has a self-righteous streak. Smiling, she opens her arms wide for Jo to hug her, but Jo backs away.

“I’m very wet still, I don’t want to make you damp after all this.”

“Oh, okay,” Claire says, looking crestfallen. “But I want to hug you anyway.”

Jo pauses. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Claire says, the words come on, silly, evident in her tone. 

Jo grins, and wraps her drenched, leathery arms around Claire. Squeezes her tight. With her face buried in Claire’s hair, she inhales the strong and familiar scent of strawberry shampoo, the kind she used to use when she was small. She’s got a young girl’s warm body in her arms, and the scent of her dad’s leather and her childhood shampoo mix in the May evening air. 

“I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Claire’s voice whispers in her ear. 

Jo wants to sob, but doesn’t. She instead gives Claire one last, big, humongous squeeze and untangles herself, her arms leaving damp patches across Claire’s dress. Claire doesn’t seem to mind, she’s only seven. 

“I was just like you when I was small,” Jo manages to reply. She doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing anymore, or if it’s just—as Claire said—a thing. Some small part of her feels like she’s damning Claire as she says this, to a life like her’s. But then again—maybe it’s just a thing, and her life is neutral. There does not have to be a curse to pass on. She smiles. “It’s been really nice to meet you, Claire.”

“And it was nice to meet you too, Jo!”

They do a final high-five (Claire’s hands only spanning Jo’s palm) before Jo steps back into the rain proper, closing the car door in front of her with a wet thunk. 

The driver’s door opens and shuts beside her, Jimmy having climbed behind the wheel. Amelia’s footsteps splash around to the far side of the concrete and then the whole family is sheltered in the car, safely stowed together behind the windows.

In the low lighting of the Roadhouse sign, for a moment Jo looks into Claire’s window and only sees herself, rain pouring down her face and shoulders wide enough to fill her father’s jacket. Then the driver’s window rolls down and Jo steps to meet it. 

“Thank you,” Jimmy says. He has dark hair and a face she will meet again. “You were very good with her. Your parents should be proud.”

Jo goes to shake her head but then allows herself the nod, to tentatively agree. Her wet hair is plastered to her scalp, but the rain isn’t cold; it’s just right. 

“Have a safe journey,” she calls. Then repeats herself as the man revs the engine so Claire, winding the window down too, can still hear her. “Have a safe journey!” 

To where, Jo realizes she isn’t quite sure. 

Both her and Claire wave like wild things as the car turns back out onto the road, Jo chasing the car for a few meters, to Claire’s growing grin. As the car pulls away Claire’s blonde pigtails are the last thing Jo can make out of her.

She stands there, in the parking lot outside the Roadhouse where the dust is being beaten into the road by the summer rain. The taillights of the car rumble out of view and Jo still stands, waving, unsure if she’s just met the past or future, until her mother comes and beckons her inside. 

[jensensitive]

text:

And John had another big secret. There is a place where hunters gather, and it's run by an old friend of his. Kripke reveals how that storyline came about. "Very frankly, we had a note come down from the mysterious and unnamed powers that be, that they wanted the boys to have a way-station. They wanted to develop a place where we could see familiar faces, where they could go and maybe pick up a case, or pick up information, etc. So we took the note and we considered it, as we always do And Bob Singer had this notion that I really liked, which was, 'What if it's like the cantina in Star Wars? What if it's a place where dangerous things happen and dangerous people cross paths? That's a really intriguing idea. And from there came the roadhouse. Then we had to populate it…

"We felt we'd spent so much time with the father son relationship, we wanted to see what a mother-daughter relationship looks like in this world, because we always try to make the story about family. So this idea came about for Ellen and Jo," Kripke continues, explaining the genesis of the Harvelle women. "Everyone would have expected that Ellen had some fling going on with John, so we didn't want to go there We wanted them to have a true and honest platonic friendship, but we also had to explain why John never told the boys about the roadhouse. And hence this terrible backstory of how John got Ellen's husband killed.

"Ellen brought a maternal energy for our world, which the boys have never had before, which I found was really interesting. Like a lioness, which is tough and badass and You touch my children, I will kill you.' Samantha Ferris really brought that character to life. She was everything you wanted the character to be - she was nuanced and complex and tough, yet beautiful and feminine.

"Jo was originally introduced to be a love interest for Dean," says Kripke, confirming fan speculation. "And there was supposed to be this growth of this character who rebelled against her mother and went off to be a hunter, and you could see this person harden and toughen as the season went on, which we actually ended up executing, but not the way we'd expected. I thought Alona Tal did an amazing job. She was likable and charming-everything she was supposed to be and more. I think we did her a disservice by misconceiving the character. We wrote her as an innocent girl who wanted to be a hunter, and that gave her this energy of leaping before she looked and doing all these things that Dean wouldn't necessarily spark to. She was just so enthusiastic and so girl-next-door about her approach to hunting. In hindsight, Dean wouldn't be attracted to that character- he'd be attracted to Jennifer Garner's character from Alias. He'd be attracted to someone who walked in the door, slaughtered everybody and walked out, and then he would say, 'Who's that? Alona played it beautifully, but the character wasn't playing as the love interest, she was playing as the little sister. And because that wasn't what we set out to do, and because we don't necessarily need a little sister character in our cast, unfortunately we phased out the character."

If the show's vocal Internet fans are representative of its general viewership, then it's safe to say the "little sister" character will not be missed. But Jo is not the only roadhouse denizen that didn't work out quite as planned. "Then we had the character [Ash.]"

[spn s2 companion, p. 14, 15]

text:

Jo's level of hunting experience wasn't the only element up in the air for Alona's first few episodes. "Eric Kripke had mentioned in the beginning that there was a possibility of making her a love interest [for Dean]," Alona confirms. "I adore Jensen Ackles. It would have been an honor and a pleasure…" But the direction the characters took produced a different chemistry onscreen. "We felt that there was tension between the characters. They made us very snappy toward each other, and that tends to come off as a brotherly-sisterly kind of relationship."

[spn s2 companion, p. 138]

--

Rob: So, at the end of this episode, we find out that your dad was killed doing battle with Jensen’s dad, right? With Sam and Dean’s dad. You remember that? (Alona: Yeah) Like on a hunting trip. And at first, I felt like we were gonna find out that you were like Sam and Dean’s, like Sam and Dean’s half sister or something. Cause, yknow, she was like– it’s something with John Winchester that I had this history with. So you’re thinking that maybe, yknow, your mom and their father had a relationship. Did you read– did you think that when you first read the script?

Alona: Honestly, I think that– If I remember correctly– again, because it was so long ago, I’m– there were a lot of life changes to this living thing called The Roadhouse crew, right? But when I first talked to Eric– to Kripke about it, he did say that I was… like a little– that that was a potential. That they were my– that I was like a little sister. (Richard: Oh!) Like a half-sister, and that we were gonna find out– that was something that could have happened. But they weren’t sure if it was gonna go there or potential love interest. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. I don’t remember if it was the network– somebody wanted it to be a love interest. But then, it would have been– He was amused by the thought of it being really [laughs] creepy– that they were going towards love interest and then finding out [laughs] that she’s a half-sister. I think it was a little too much for the network back then.

Rob: Yeah [laughs]

Richard: Shame on them.

Alona: Although, I thought it was a really– I mean, playing with a potential love interest, but never fully going there, and then finding out she was a half sister would have been a lot, would have been fun. Cause it would have led to this like “eughh” moment between them.

Rob: [laughs] It woulda been funny. Yeah, it woulda been funny

Alona: It would have been– it would have been really funny. (Rob: Yeah) A little ahead of it’s time perhaps, but um, but that never ended up happening, and neither did the love interest thing, so, yknow there’s that.

Richard: I kinda thought– I took the bait as a viewer, I thought you were gonna come out as a half sister. And I mean I know I probably would have known that, going to so many conventions, I would have heard that already, but nonetheless, watching the episode, I’m like, “Ohhh, they did– they did it, and they had a daughter, oh man.” [Rob laughs]

Alona: Yeah! Yeah! (Richard: So, fooled me) And it would have– that would have made perfect sense.

Richard: Yeah, yknow, Rob and I kind of bemuse– yknow, we think out loud a lot about what drives the decision making of writers, and lord knows we don’t know. But your character is one of the prime examples of “they could have gone so many different directions.” I mean like, and, and they could have been– there’s a parallel universe where you ended up being a regular on that show for fifteen seasons. Yknow what I mean? Like, your character, really is, uh, attached– and [the] Roadhouse could have become more of a home base set. Like, yknow, when you watch this season up now– yknow, later on they had [the] Men of Letters [bunker]– [the] Roadhouse, it definitely seemed like the one standing set the show had for a while.

Alona: It– I think that’s what it was supposed to be. I remember Eric mentioning that– I mean that, the character was supposed to go one for much longer– Jo and Ellen. It was– it was  supposed to be that. And back then in what now it seems like the stone ages, there were the fan forums. [...] They had the cw forums, and fans would go on and they– I mean let’s not sugarcoat it– they hated my character.

[...]

Richard: And you were an obvious partner for Dean. Yknow what I mean– that rapport?

Alona: Yeah, especially like season two, that was– that was where it was going. And that– that was– she was brought in there, and I remember Eric telling me like, “You are the female version of him. So act, yknow, how cocky he walks around, and he has all this like, the bravado of the Dean character.” I tried to have a little bit of that in Jo without making it too obnoxious, and it just was– it backfired. [...] The response of the viewers was not what was intended, right? It wasn’t what was expected. It wasn’t what the writers, and the brilliant creator of the show were wanting, so they had to pivot. And that’s only me assuming. I wasn’t in the rooms, right, but the way it pivoted was so parallel to what they were writing that I can only assume that it was influenced by-- a show that really does listen to its fanbase– which is a good thing! For the show and for the fans. Not so much for me.

[spn then and now, 2x06, 16:30 - 24:00]

[collarbjt]

SPN 202

Second run.

Clown episode, I’m scared of the clowns after I saw this episode like Sammy.

I was so sad about John’s death. Still I am, but after I saw 907, well it’s complicated now….

The early episodes have own… what should I say, have raw?? vibes, luv it soo much. Work on the car-Dean with baby scenes always bring me a joy.

Oh, Ellen………….Jo….Harvelle family, I miss you guys soooooooooooo much!!!!!!!And Ash too 🥹

Dean tries flirting on Jo but he stopped at a very appropriate moment, and that works. I love their chemistry….This first-meeting scene reminds me of Jo and Dean’s last scene. So sad… Jo is…our brave and kind sister

Clown phobia Sammy lol sooo cute!!

Lol this kiddo, Evan?? is coool

I love that orange uniform, suits well on them.

Dean is very harsh on cars that aren’t his baby Impala lol

Wow, their talking-to-brother skills have improved a lot since s2…to s10. In this season-2, Winchester bros are still hiding their feelings to each other too much.

Rakshasha, kinda combination of vampire and shapeshifter

Well Sammy is usually more honest than Dean.

[hcrv3lles]

How does Wallace cope with the loss of his mother? We know he throws himself into the hunting life and finding a solution to Will's deal, but how does he feel about the fact that he lost his mom?

oh goodness. he's not necessarily coping at all. is mostly letting it all just kind of fester inside of him. bottles it up and shoves it behind a door in his head. doesn't even want to think about it. it's different to when he lost bill. he'd only been one when his dad died. after that, the harvelle's hadn't really lost anyone. had no family besides themselves to really lose in the first place. so when he lost both jo and ellen at the same time it was a shell shock to him. he'd tried to run into that building but hadn't been able to because he'd been tackled to the ground by dean or sam or will, he still doesn't actually know. all he does know is that he had to watch his mother die.

truthfully, wallace has nightmares about it nightly. most of the reason why he doesn't sleep anymore. aside from the fact his head's always in a lore book for will. but anytime he closes his eyes? he's reminded he couldn't save the woman that gave him life. the woman that took care of him up until the day she died. the woman that loved him no matter what. it was practically like losing a part of himself that wallace didn't even realize was there. like a part of him is now gone along with her. he'll never be whole again. not really. so now he fights for will. and he fights for jo. he tries to make up for all the failures he thinks he's done by not doing more to protect his mother and sister that night.

the day ellen died? in some ways . . . wallace died with her.

[deans-baby-momma]

Okay. I know I just posted chapter 1 of The Hunter and The Sheriff this morning but I have a one-shot I thought I'd see if there is any interest for.

'Roadhouse Romance'

Synopsis: When a hunter visits the Roadhouse, they find that Ellen Harvelle isn't at all what she seems.

Pairing: Hunter!Reader X Ellen Harvelle

Told from the reader's POV. No name is given.

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @leigh70

[thebeautyofspn]

2x02 Everybody Loves A Clown

[freakwiththeknifecollection]

Plot holes dropped threads yeah yeah we've all seen em, you know what haunts me? The layout of Harvelle's Roadhouse. It defies the laws of physics. It appears to be longer on the inside than the outside, but that's not even the biggest thing. We've seen Ash has a room in the back, BUT WHERE DO ELLEN AND JO SLEEP? We collectively as a fandom have decided the Roadhouse has an upstairs in fic because it just makes sense BUT IT DOESN'T EXIST IN CANON. AND Ellen says she has "a couple cabins out back" WHERE????????

[marieshitposts]

big ass spoilers for spn season 5 episode 10, involving jo and ellen

i recently watched this ep and like WHY WHY did ellen also have to die

it was already awful that jo died, but i understand ellen not wanting to live without her daughter (also she had to be there to detonate the bomb) but its also salt in the wound that jo died even before the bomb went off. so technically everyone from the roadhouse is dead now :/

[blondie20000]

Saturday Night- Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle

It was Saturday night at the Roadhouse. The place was packed with customers. Hunters from all over America came to the Roadhouse to enjoy the uplifting atmosphere and to share their stories regarding the hunts they have been on. The hunters are competitive when it comes to the stories they all determined to be the one who has the best story.

Jo rolls her eyes when she sees one hunter raise his shirt to reveal a scar that went across his left breast.

"Fucker that one was." The hunter scoffed.

"Ah yeah well one son of a bitch caught me right here." The other hunter replied as he goes to remove his belt. Before he could remove it Jo comes over and raises her hand at them.

"Hey Ryan no one wants to see your ass." She shakes her head. "This place is not a strip club."

Ryan cracked a grin.

"Yet."

Jo again rolls her eyes.

"Just keep it from the waist upwards okay?"

"Sure darling although I will say you are missing quite a treat."

Jo eyes him up and down.

"Says the person who is wearing size small jeans." She raises her eyebrow. "Not much there to see then I guess."

Another hunter chokes on his drink. Ryan blushed pink as Jo laughs and returns to the counter.

"Not much of a view even from here." She again laughed.

The short stocky hunter looks down at his little, thin legs and goes from pink to red with embarrassment.

"Must be a little scar then." The hunter next to him laughed.

Ryan shoots him a glare as he sits down and accepts defeat. Jo chuckles as she turns round and serves another customer. While she filled the glasses she glances over her shoulder and spots the older Winchester Dean picking up the empty glasses. She looks him over and smiles.

Now that is a view.

When Dean turned round Jo quickly returns her attention to the drinks.

"Here you go." She says as she hands two beers over.

What Jo didn't know was that Dean also has been eyeing her up whenever she had her back to him. His eyes lingered on her ass as she bends over and picks up a grate.

She wore tight jeans tonight revealing her perfectly fine petite figure. She also wore a dark green crop top showing off her belly button. Jo reminded Dean of one of those girls from Coyote Ugly he can imagine her standing on the counter and singing and dancing to the music.

An image of Jo swaying her hips to the music appears in Dean's mind.

Slow, sexy, hot.

Damm

Dean shakes the image out of his mind and carries on working.

When the time came to lock up Jo went behind the counter and rang the bell.

"ALRIGHT GUYS YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO!" She yelled over the noise.

The hunters gulp back their drinks and start to make their way out of the bar. Dean had to escort some of the drunk hunters out. Jo stands by the door and waves at the hunters.

"Thanks for coming! Stay safe don't get into any trouble yeah I'm talking to you Morris you don't want Mom on your back...Yeah you better stay on your best behavior hmm..." She laughs. "Alright see you soon bye bye." Jo closes the door and locks it. "Ah." She sighs and runs her hand through her hair. "What a night."

"I can't believe you do this every night." Dean shakes his head with disbelief. "My first shift and I'm already tired."

"Don't fall asleep yet Dean we still got to tidy up." Jo tosses a broom over to the hunter. "Sooner this is done sooner we can call it a night."

Dean catches the broom and nods.

"On it."

The tidying up took a while. The hunters are messy they never clean up after them. Food, spilled drinks and cigarettes are scattered everywhere. At one point Jo pulled a face when she found vomit in the sink.

Just great.

When Jo looked away Dean stared at her. When Dean looked away Jo stared at him. They continue to eye each other up both of them admiring what they saw. Jo then blushed when Dean caught her staring she ducks her head behind the table and pretends to focus on cleaning the chewing gum. Dean smirks to himself but decided to not comment on it.

Dean walks over to the pool table and finds Ash passed out on it. He goes to wake Ash up but Jo stops him.

"I wouldn't bother that pool table has become his second bed spends more time there then his own room. We just leave him to it."

"Seriously?"

"When Ash is out he is out you won't hear from him until the morning."

Dean shrugs.

"Alright then."

"Wanna help me with these crates?" Jo asks.

"Sure."

Dean picks up the crates and follows Jo. They go into the storage room and put the empty crates down. Jo jumped slightly when she nearly collides into Dean's chest.

"Sorry." She says. Jo looks up at his board chest. She swallows and laughs nervously. "This is a small space."

"It is."

"No idea why Mom chose this for the storage."

Jo tried to move but Dean was in her way. His form blocked most of the entrance.

"Its quite tight." Dean replied sounding awkward.

"Yeah." Jo nods. "You're right." She clears her throat. "If I can just..."

She moves but Dean also moves with her. She moves to the other side but Dean also goes to the other side. Jo huffs an annoyed sigh. Dean gives her an apologetic look.

"Sorry."

"Its okay just umm...Step back please."

Dean did the opposite. Instead he came forward.

"You look a little flushed?" He said pretending to sound concerned.

"Its quite warm in here."

"And you are sweating too."

"Like I said its warm in here."

"I wonder why?"

Jo saw the smirk form on his face. She had to stop herself from smiling back at him.

Damm Winchester.

"This place is not gonna clean itself up come on!"

She gestures to the door.

Dean finally stepped out of the room. Once everything was tidied up and ready for the next day Jo turned off the lights and went upstairs.

She took a sneak peak into the guest room and saw Dean removing his shirt. Jo held her breath as Dean flexed his muscles. Just then Dean turns round. Jo quickly goes away from the door.

Shit shit shit!

As Jo was about to walk off Dean pokes his head out and smiles.

"Enjoying the show?"

"I didn't see anything." Jo quickly replied.

He grins.

"I was just about to get to the good part."

"I don't care." Jo folds her arms. "Maybe next time close the door."

Dean looks at her pink cheeks and smirks.

"You liked what you saw."

"Goodnight Dean."

Dean's face suddenly turned serious.

"Jo."

Jo turns her head and frowns at him.

Yes?"

Dean steps forward.

"You don't have to do this." He says.

"Do what?"

He closed the space between them. He tucks a stray of hair behind her ear. Jo sighs.

"Dean."

"I know you can feel it too."

His hand moves to her cheek. Jo steps away from her.

"I can't...We can't."

"So you are not denying it?"

Jo looks up at him. She looks into his green eyes that stared right into her soul. She bites her lip then few seconds later she shakes her head.

"I bet you say this to all the women you hook up with."

"You are not like the other women Jo." Dean said his voice sincere. "You are much more than that."

Jo's heart rate picked up as Dean's hand returns to her cheek.

"You are amazing." He nods. "You are a freaking badass and I...I can't stop thinking about you...you are always on my mind."

You are always on my mind. Jo thought.

Her heart flutters as Dean leans towards her. His lips inches away from hers.

"It is your choice." He whispered. "And I will respect your decision."

Jo raises her hand and places it on his cheek. They stared at each other for several moments. Then Jo leans forward and brushes her lips against his. Dean immediately responds and kisses her back.

The kiss started of slow and tender then it become more heated and passionate. Dean presses Jo up against the wall and hungrily kisses her. She moans and pushes her tongue in and rolls it along with his. Jo then bit down on his lip. That sent a shudder through the older Winchester. Eventually they both break away from each other needing to catch their breath.

Shortly after Jo takes Dean's hand and leads him into her bedroom. Dean paused at her bedroom door.

"Are you sure?" He asked his voice quiet.

Jo nods.

"I'm sure."

"What about your Mom?"

"She's not here right?" A smirk forms on Jo's lips. "We got the whole place to ourselves." She raises her eyebrow. "You are not gonna chicken out now are ya?"

Dean grins.

"Never."

Within a few strides Dean wraps his arms around Jo and lifts her up from the floor. Jo wraps her legs around Dean's waist as he carries her to the bed. He then gently lies her down.

He kisses her belly button and rolls his tongue along her exposed flesh. Jo shivered at the touch. Dean then tugs at the top demanding for it to come off. Jo smiles and removes the top. Dean climbs on to the bed and continues to kiss her body.

"This needs to go." He mumbled against her.

Dean swiftly removes the bra and discards it to the side.

"That's better." He smiled.

Jo turns her head to give him better access. Dean sends a trail of kisses along her neck all the way down to her breasts. He latched on to one of her nipples and sucks hard at it. Jo moans. Dean then bites down on her other nipple causing her to cry out.

"Fuck!" She hissed.

He gives her a smirk followed by several kisses along her stomach.

His hands then go on her belt. He removes the belt and quickly pushes down her jeans. Jo kicks the jeans away.

Dean grasps the hem of her panties. He then looks up at her.

"Are you sure?"

Jo nods.

"Yes." She said her voice trembling slightly.

This is one of the things Jo liked about Dean. Other men would be eager to get inside her but Dean however made sure that she was okay with this he wanted them both to be on the same page with this. Dean respected her, treated her as a equal.

He is not like any other man. Jo smiled to herself.

Dean Winchester is a sweetheart.

Jo loved him for that.

This time Dean slowly pulls down her panties. He held his breath as he takes in the view.

Jo laid on her back exposed and naked. She has removed her layers for him she has opened the door and let him in. Dean felt honored to have this opportunity with her. He meant it when he said she wasn't like the other women. Jo is a strong, independent woman who Dean loved and respected. She made him laugh and they are a good team whenever they work together. He wouldn't change her in anyway. To Dean, Jo Harvelle is perfect.

That is why Dean planned to make this a special night for her.

Dean gently strokes her thighs. He breathed in her scent as he again kisses her and shows her how much she means to him.

"So beautiful." He whispered in her ear.

Jo blushed at the compliment. Dean smiles at her reaction.

She can be so cute.

Dean then lowers himself until he is facing her vagina. He runs his finger around her folds and teases her entrance. Jo grits her teeth.

"God damm it Dean!"

"I aim to please." Dean smirked at her.

Jo suddenly gasps as Dean sticks his finger inside her. Another gasp escapes her lips as Dean sticks another finger inside her. The hunter started to thrust her with his fingers. He pumps her harshly and enjoys the sweet sounds that came spilling from her lips.

Jo arched her back and began panting his name. She squealed as Dean picked up the pace. Sweat poured down Jo's face and her legs shook uncontrollably. She kept calling out his name with both happiness and pleasure.

"Dean...Dean oh God yes...YES!"

Dean enjoyed her reaction. The way she said his name was like music to his ears.

Eventually Dean removes his fingers. Jo whimpered at the loss of contact. Dean slowly licks his fingers in a seductive manner. He then smirks at Jo's tormented expression. He can see this is killing her.

"Don't worry I shared some for you."

He puts two of his fingers up against her lips. Jo opens her mouth and welcomes him inside her. She then sucks on his fingers. She can taste the saltiness from the cum and feel his rough skin rubbing against her tongue.

"Hmm."

Jo takes the fingers out of her mouth. She rests his wet hand against her warm cheek. Jo narrows her eyes at him and her lips form into a wicked grin. She then turns and kisses his hand followed by a series of kisses along his jaw down towards his chest.

"Someone has been working out." She grinned at his abs.

"The monsters like to keep you on your feet." Dean replied.

She chuckled at that.

"Which one wears you out the most?"

"I don't know every hunt I've been on is pretty much fucking exhausting."

"I have some serious competition then."

Jo gently pushes Dean down on the bed. She climbs on top of him and smiles down at him. Dean looked surprised by the sudden change of position.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

Jo kisses his cheek.

"I'm all in. You?"

Dean smiles.

"Always babe always."

Jo brightened at that.

Jo moves her hands to his waist and begins to remove his jeans. Dean's breathing picked up as Jo slides her hand down his boxers. She brushes her fingers against his manhood. Her touch caused him to tense up. Jo pulls his boxers down and marvels at the sight of his dick.

Wow. He's huge.

"Damm Winchester how do you keep that hidden?"

Dean shrugs and gives her a smug smile. Jo scoffs and shakes her head with amusement.

She then wraps her hands around him and starts to stroke his length. Each stroke sent a jolt of electricity through him. Dean felt so alive right now.

"Jo." He moaned her name.

With the cock still in her hand Jo positions herself on top of him. She then slowly leads him inside her. Both of them gasp as he goes inside her.

Jo starts to rock on him. She picks up the pace as her confidence grew. Dean picks up his hips and meets her with each thrust. He holds on to her waist and supports her all the way.

"That's it that's it babe you got it." Dean praised her.

Jo soaked up the praises he gave her. In exchange she gave him tons of kisses. Each kiss showed how happy and grateful she was to do this with him. Jo trusted Dean. Right now Dean made her feel safe and secure. She also felt empowered she cherished the strength that he transferred on to her.

Jo felt the fire reach the bottom of her belly. She knew she is close with Dean's tight expression she guessed he is close as well.

"Dean I need to..."

"Same." Dean said reading her mind. He reaches out ans grasps her shaking hand. "We'll do it together."

The warmth in his green apple eyes made Jo weak to her knees. Seconds later she lets out a cry and lets it all out. Dean follows shortly afterwards. He abruptly turns over and spills all over the sheets. Dean then groans and flops his head back on the pillow.

"Fuck." He cursed.

Jo takes several deep breaths. She wipes the sweat from her brow and shakes her head.

"Damm." She said to herself.

Dean opens his arms towards her. Jo accepts the invitation and snuggles into his chest. He wraps his arms around her.

"I'm beat." Dean laughs a little. "Got me good there Jo."

She gives him a goofy grin.

"I did tell you before I am excellent shooter."

Dean again laughs. He leans forward and kisses her hair.

"This is nice." Jo said quietly.

"It is." Dean agreed.

She turns her head towards him.

"So what now?"

Dean strokes her chin.

"Its up to you." He answered softly. "Like I said before I will respect your decision."

She kisses him.

"Such a gentleman." She teased him.

He kisses her back.

"I know." He said with a cocky grin.

The humor vanishes from Jo's face. She sighs heavily.

"Give me time to think it over okay?"

Dean nods.

"Take all the time you need."

.......

"ASH!"

Ash abruptly wakes up and nearly hits his head on his table.

"Wha..." He glances at the clock. "Oh." He coughs and scratches his armpit. "Morning already?"

"Ash." Jo waves at him from the counter. "Breakfast."

"Okay just give me a sec."

Ash quickly checks himself in the mirror before joining the others at the table. Dean is cooking while Jo is sat at the table.

"Morning Ash." Dean greets him.

"Morning Dean." Ash nods to him. "Jo."

"Dean is making pancakes."

"Oh great." Ash sits next to Jo. "Love me some pancakes."

He rubs his hands and waits for his plate.

"Here you are."

Dean puts the plate in front of Ash. Ash thanks him and begins to pick up his knife and fork. He then noticed something when Dean went to give Jo her plate. Jo immediately turns pink in the face when Dean's hand accidentally brushes against her arm. She smiles awkwardly at him. Dean gives her a small nervous smile before going off to make more pancakes.

What the Hell was that about? Ash frowned.

Jo happily cuts into her pancake and starts eating it. She hums with delight.

"Someone is in a good mood." Ash says.

Jo shrugs.

"Pancakes are good."

"Jo nobody is ever in a good mood in the morning."

"And nobody ever sleeps on the pool table every day." Jo replied.

"I'm just having fun." Ash raises his eyebrow. "Did you have some fun last night with Dean?"

Jo chokes on her orange juice.

"Uh." She wipes her mouth with a tissue. "What...um...What do you mean?"

"Oh God." Ash's eyes widen with realization. "You didn't."

Jo looked confused.

"Did what?"

"Oh boy." Ash waves his arms around. "In here you did it in here!"

"Ash."

"Your Mom is gonna kill you..Hell she's gonna kill all of us!"

"Ash!" Jo hissed at him.

Ash went silent.

"Nothing happened." Jo glares at him. "Understand?"

Ash laughs.

"You think she won't find out?"

"She won't."

"Oh she will. Your Mom has like this sixth sense when it comes to things like this trust me she will find out. I don't wanna be here when that happens Hell no."

Jo sighs heavily. Ash looks at her with curiosity.

"So are you and Dean like a thing now?"

"I don't know." She admitted her voice quiet.

"Oh well umm I don't know if this will help but I think you guys would make quite a cute couple." He smiles sheepishly. "You always had something there between the both of you it was only a matter of time before you umm did the deed." He shakes his head. "You could have done it in the motel down the road not here God..."

"Ash seriously?"

"And my pancakes are gonna get cold." He stabs his fork into the pancake and bites into it. "Perfection Dean perfection." He said with his mouth full.

"Thanks Ash."

Jo pinched the bridge of her nose.

Dean sits down opposite and frowns at her.

"You okay?"

Jo smiles.

"I'm good."

Ash snorted. Jo glares at him. Ash mouths "She will find out." Before returning to his food.

Ellen and Sam arrived later in the afternoon. They all hugged each other.

"How was he?" Dean asks.

Ellen smiles and nods at the younger Winchester.

"Good as gold."

"Just made some burgers." Dean says.

"Great I'm starving."

"Sammy I made you your rabbit food as well." Dean calls over his shoulder as he goes into the kitchen.

Sam rolls his eyes and follows his brother.

Everyone talked about general stuff as they ate. Jo told Ellen about Ryan last night. Ellen laughs and shakes her head.

"Crazy son of a bitch."

"They like to show off." Jo agreed.

Once everyone has finished their food Dean takes the plates and begins to wash them in the sink. Ellen joins him with two bottles of beer in her hands.

"Have to say Dean you outdid yourself with this food. Nice job."

Dean accepts the bottle and smiles at her.

"Thanks Ellen."

Ellen takes a swig from her bottle. She then leans on the counter.

"If you ever break my daughter's heart I will kill you."

Dean's eyes widen by her sudden change in tone. Ellen gives him a stern look. The look she gave him made Dean gulp.

Shit she knows.

Dean puts the bottle down.

"I would never hurt her." He says.

Ellen slowly nods.

"I know."

Dean saw a ghost of a smile go across Ellen's lips. She then places her hand on his arm.

"I got my eye on you Winchester."

Dean wasn't sure if the older Harvelle was joking or not. Ellen does a salute with her bottle before joining the others for a game of darts.

"She knows." Dean whispered to Jo.

"Shit." Jo glares at Ash. "Was it you?"

Ash raises his hands.

"Didn't come from me I told you...you can't keep nothing from her."

"What did she say?" Jo asks.

"I think she's okay about um us." Dean nods and smiles nervously. "Well she also threatened to kill me but umm..."

He laughs. Jo curses to herself.

Damm it Mom.

"I'm sorry Dean."

"Its okay your Mom is just looking out for you."

"Dean." Ellen raises a dart. "Me vs you?"

Dean swallows.

"Umm..."

"Go on Dean." Sam grinned.

Ash nudges Dean with his elbow.

"Good luck." He says.

Dean laughs.

"I think I am gonna need it."

Dean again swallows as Ellen hands him the darts.

"May the best one win." Ellen smirked.

Dean looked scared. It amused Jo how much her Mom scared him.

As Dean takes his place in front of the board Ash leans towards Jo and asks.

"So now your Mom knows...Have you made a decision yet?"

Jo snorted as Dean cautiously moves past the older Harvelle.

"Depends if he survives."

Ash chuckles.

"Good point."

"On a serious note..." Jo smiles. "I think I will consider it."

Ash smiles at her.

"That's good to hear. I'm happy for you guys."

Jo beamed at him.

"Thanks Ash."

She nudges him in the arm in an affectionate manner. Ash returns the gesture.

Later Dean returns to his seat. Jo smirks at him.

"You look like you seen a ghost."

"Your Mom is more terrifying than a ghost."

Jo laughs.

"So..." Jo gives the hunter a shy smile. "Fancy umm going out tonight? Mom is giving me the night off."

Dean brightened at that.

"Sure."

"Has to be local otherwise Mom will hunt us down."

"Oh trust me I do not plan to get on her bad side. Hell no."

"There's this nice Mexican restaurant." Jo suggests.

Dean nods.

"I'll pick you up at 8?"

Jo grins.

"Deal."

"Hey Dean." Ellen calls out. "Fancy another round?"

Dean forced a smile.

"Sure Ellen."

But in his head Dean mentally groans.

Crap.

The End

[mlobsters]

supernatural s5e16 dark side of the moon / s1e15 the benders

so I was just trying to look at the dart setup in the benders episode for my silly little painting and was like hey. that sign is familiar. it's brew 66, and in ash's roadhouse heaven it's brew 99 (actual roadhouse I don't know, i went through a couple episodes and didn't see it)

and the only reason i know about the brew 99 sign is because i was considering putting it in the painting for some in-universe signage

anyway have some s2 roadhouse and beautiful coloring and more relaxed styling on ellen as a bonus. and that roadhouse jukebox is the one jo used in whatever episode meg was possessing sam and i think it's in this benders episode. probably in every bar scene lol

s2e2 everyone loves a clown and s2e6 no exit

and a jackles so pretty it hurts to look at him

[trannydean-moved]

in the hunter!jaime au, soon after he runs away from caroline's family's place (because this is after she died and he doesn't feel it's right for him to stay), he finds the roadhouse and that's where he gets lots of his cases. he becomes friends with jo and somehow convinces ellen that he's the epitome of a perfect child. he also thinks ash is great and is in awe at how well he handles computers. of course jaime isn't the most technological person, so he's amazed at simple things a computer can do, but still.