tampered | Log ongoing; closed

When; March 18 Fairly early in the morning
Rating; Let's go R. They both have mouths on them
Characters;

gotanotherplan
Summary; Dean has a hangover. Cas has no sympathy and Jo is vulnerable to the puppyface
Log;

His first thought was Hell. I'm in it. His second thought was fuck. His third thought moved to coffee and beer because some part of his brain remembered an entire bottle of Jameson and Happy Friggin' Irish day. He started to move, slowly in an attempt to keep his head from exploding and himself from hurling when he realized he was pinned down to the bed. He opened his eyes the slightest bit to confirm yup...pinned down to the bed by a tiny blonde. Now this wouldn't have been such a strange turn of events for Dean except he was dealing with Laszlo's deal. There wasn't even any rise and shine in the morning (which Dean wasn't afraid to say he missed. A little oak in the morning was a good thing) so that pretty much ruled out this being a 'normal' situation for Dean.

Second, it was Jo. Hottie? Oh hell yes but also hands off. Dean had known that from the moment he'd met her mother. Besides she was a hunter and there were certain rules about hunters.

Third. She had all her clothes on and he was still wearing a shirt and boxer shorts.

Fourth...oh sweet virgin Mary. Someone could get him coffee and beer. Dean didn't have to move a muscle.

Now to convince...

"Jo, wake up Sweetheart. Open those pretty brown eyes."

Because he needed coffee and beer now.

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Jo was a snuggler, there was no doubt about that. Only most of the time when she woke up every morning she was snuggling her balled-up blanket, not Dean Winchester. Not that she had any idea she was sharing a bed with him at the moment. Nope! She was sound asleep, so those technicalities didn't matter, because it was warm and comfortable and she was sleeping in a bed and there was no way she was getting up at the first sign of 'oh hey, my blanket feels kind of solid and human-shaped this morning'.

... Then the 'blanket' started talking to her, and that was a little harder to ignore. Except that Jo thought it was part of her dream, even if she couldn't recall dreaming about anything moments before. But again, technicalities shmechnicalities. She smiled a little in her sleep, burying her face against the blanket's shoulder. Er. "Justa little more sleep, mmm, I'll be uppin five..."

Dean didn't care who Jo thinks he is right at that moment. He'd play right along. He didn't jiggle her though because it would jiggle the entire bed and that would make him hurl.

"Come on, Jo. Baby, I need coffee and beer now. No five more minutes."

"Oh, you-" Jo didn't usually talk to her dream-induced Zach Morris boyfriend while she slept, but then usually he wasn't ever actually in bed with her to talk to. The talking out loud only helped pull her out of her sleep, and soon she was blinking her eyes open and --

Promptly scrambling to sit up and somehow manage to not fall off the side of the bed in the process. "What the hell!?" Sorry, hungover-Dean. Jo had no concept of hangover-manners when she was having a mild freakout. She didn't remember drinking that much. She didn't remember Dean even being there when she fell asleep! But she had her clothes on, so maybe nothing happened, and maybe there was no reason to freak out. Except for the fact that she was just snuggling with Dean in her sleep!

"Explain, please!"

He winced at her volume. Girl could crank it out when she wanted to. He's trying to give her a withering glare but it's not terribly effective when his head is exploding.

"Could you just..." shut your piehole almost came out but he was trying to get her to do something for him. "Quiet."

It took him a moment to sort the night out because it was all a little fuzzy to him. "You were in my bed when I came home. I was too drunk to move you and not drunk enough to get naked." He flashed her one of those idiot grins followed by another wince because dammit grinning hurt his head right now.

"Yeah, ha ha, very funny." Jo managed to keep her sass/sarcasm level at max, even after she dropped her volume down from eleven to about four. Nevermind that she was embarrassed at hell by all of this, but Dean seemed to be... dealing, so that only meant one thing.

"Are you leavin' something out of the story?" Not that she didn't believe that this whole bed situation was completely innocent, but it did seem kind of strange. "Or is there a catch? ... You called me sweetheart. And said my eyes were pretty." Yes, that would be a slightly smug smile, though she'd never admit that.

Dean appreciated the drop in volume more than he would ever express to her. As far as the 'whole' story? No way he's telling her that his bat isn't up to a home run and won't be for another two and a half weeks. At least not without a lot of prompting and certainly not when she gave him an out.

"Coffee and a beer. Please? It'll make me human again." She might be getting a slight puppy face. He really doesn't want to move.

"What! More beer? You know how stupid that idea is, right?" Jo is giving him the stink eye in return, because she used to scold Ash for the same ridiculous 'more alcohol makes the hangover go away' theory. Ash was a genius, but that was just dumb. She leaned back against the headboard though, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes.

"Coffee does sound good, though." She paused, her head tipping to the side so she could look at him properly again. "What's in it for me?"

"Volume," he reminded her, burying one ear into the pillow. If he could only half hear her it wouldn't be so bad. "Adding more alcohol numbs everything a little bit then the coffee wakes you up."

He considered her a minute, glanced around the room then back at her. "I'll let you sleep in my bed."

"Gonna have to do better than that, Deano." Jo grinned and got comfortable, her legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles, and she reached for a pillow to rest in her lap. "I sleep in here all the time."

"At night. No more couch," Dean told her and then he pulled out the big guns. Yup. Jo was getting puppyface big time. "Come on, Jo. I'm sick."

"... But then where are you gonna sleep?" Jo gave him a look because she felt like maybe he was just trying to talk her into this, but then she noticed the puppyface and ohwhatthefuck, that wasn't fair at all.

"Ugh, fine. Deal. Get comfy, jerk, I'll put on a pot of coffee and bring you your beer. If you end up barfin' I'm just gonna laugh at you, though." And then she was swinging her legs off the bed, making her way to the kitchen.

Oh goody he doesn't have to answer that question. Obviously he's going to sleep in the bed too. Duh. She can have her own bed when they move out of Anna's place.

In response to her agreement he snuggles back down into the bed very carefully. "I'm not gonna barf. Geez."

And even cursed he might be watching her walk to the kitchen. He's uninterested. Not blind.

Jo's quick to get the coffee pot started, even though she's still trying to learn her way around the kitchen. Once she's sure that's not about to explode or spill over, she's shifting things around in the fridge until she can pull out two bottles of beer, cracking them both open before walking back into the room and flopping down on the bed.

"Here you go," she said, passing him one of the beers and taking a sip of hers. "I'll let you enjoy this moment. The couch isn't so bad, but, it sure as hell ain't a bed."

For her effort Jo got a big grin. Even though it hurt his head to grin. He took the beer and sipped warily at it. He was testing his stomach, not the beer. Once he decided his stomach was going to tolerate beer he took a longer sip. He could smell the coffee already beginning to percolate. he snuggled back into the bed and let out a groan of satisfaction. He was absolutely going to enjoy this moment.

"Thanks, Squirt."

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