Jukebox Tales

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Authors - WelshWitch1011 and Silverspoon

Rating - T for some language and inferred sexual situations

Synopsis - The first in a series of vignettes based on songs from Harvelle's jukebox.

Pairing - Dean/Jo

Disclaimer - We do not own Supernatural, or any of the characters featured within. "You Shook Me All Night Long" is the property and work of AC/DC.

Authors' Note - This is a previously unpublished fic which cannot be found on any other sites. Enjoy, and please consider leaving a review.

“You Shook Me All Night Long”

xxx

The way she worked was fluid; quick, precise, and yet elegant. She had injected herself into their group without even seeming to be noticed at first, and by the time her presence had been realised, it was craved. The three dark and brooding types were hanging on her every word, lapping up her easy smile, and staring into her doe eyes.

Her fingertips brushed against the half empty wine glass, flirting with the notion of raising it to her lips, but at the last second she withdrew her hand. Usually, she drank beer; swigged it warm and straight from the bottle, but tonight she was a seductress, and low rider jeans and a bottle of Bud just didn’t seem to cut it.

From the corner of the nightclub, he watched. The shadows were a welcome camouflage and he stuck to them with his customary beer in hand. The job was making him nervous and, as a result, not a single drop of liquor had passed his lips all evening. So far, he had accumulated several offers of casual ‘company’ from the opposite sex, and had dismissed every one with a grunt and toss of his head.

He remained oblivious to the appreciative gazes he earned from the women who passed him by; his attention was focused solely on her.

Dean found himself transfixed by the rhythmic sway of her hips as she led her prey to the dance floor and became seemingly lost in the heavy beat of the music, arms raised above her.

Jealousy settled heavy in his gut as alien hands settled around Jo’s waist and the dark features of a stranger appeared behind her, pulling her against him, as he now became the aggressor in their game.

A pang of fear overcame Dean as he kept his vigil, but Jo deftly halted the man’s eager hands from their destination. Her smile was coy, and a whispered promise brought a slow, lustful leer to his lips.

Rolling the rim of the bottle against his mouth, Dean watched the swaying couple, and as the stranger’s kisses brushed over her neck, Jo’s eyes settled intently on his own. Her perfume still lingered on the fabric of his clothes, and he breathed deeper in order to ground himself. He knew by heart the curve of her neck and the warm, soft skin he so often brushed his own lips across.

Now, however, her eyes held a warning; don’t react- don’t give the game away. Dean obeyed, despite every last tensely coiled nerve in his body practically shrieking at him to leap across the room and decapitate the fanged son-of-a-bitch currently trying to feel up his girl.

The song ended but Jo had been drawing her partner away from the floor and towards the exit seconds before the final chords resounded. His accomplices formed a ring around Jo, and she was careful to maintain her smile and flirtatious demeanour even as they shepherded her in the direction of the exit. The glances they exchanged were triumphant, hungry, and although Jo pretended not to notice them, to Dean her comprehension was evident.

She tugged a little on the hem of the leather mini she wore, a tacky prop from an old Halloween costume, and Dean caught a glimpse of taut, bronzed thighs. He felt a familiar not unpleasant warmth swirl around his gut, but Dean pushed away the sensation guiltily and shoved his chair back from the table.

Brushing away the hand of a passing brunette from his chest, he stalked toward the exit, following after the rapidly disappearing trio and his girlfriend.

Keeping his distance, Dean loitered in the doorway, his heart now pounding in his chest. Jo was backed against the wall of the club, the alleyway around her eerily still save for the predatory advances of three men surrounding her.

The apparent leader stepped toward her once again, his hand sliding slowly up her thigh as he leaned in as though to kiss her. Dean felt his breathing still as the man’s hand drifted dangerously close to the hem of Jo’s skirt.

Jo leaned forwards, the tip of her tongue darting across her lips as she gazed up at the vampire.

“Touch me, and you’ll lose more than your hand,” the hunter breathed, her voice husky and yet managing to convey the weight of her threat nonetheless. The three vampires exchanged glances that were uncertain at first, but which quickly gave way to amusement. They chuckled, the heavier set of the three choosing to lean across Jo with one arm pressed against her throat. She failed to react, poised and calm.

“I don’t think you know quite what you’re dealing with baby,” the vampire murmured, brushing the tip of his nose against Jo’s. Dean ached to lunge forwards, to grab the leech by the collar and end him. However, Jo would not thank him, and Dean had more respect for her than that.

“Right back at you... baby,” Jo replied evenly, arching an eyebrow as her hand drifted down her body. She reached for the long knife sheathed at her thigh, barely concealed by her outfit.

The vampire smiled, torn between amusement and lust, and he trailed his finger down her neck. His eyes fluttered closed and he licked at his lips as he felt the thrum of her pulse beneath his fingertips. He smirked as the steady beat hastened at his touch, and he assumed fear had finally consumed his victim.

Dean observed closely, a machete clutched in one hand, ready to intervene as soon as Jo signalled. Licking his lips, he followed the path of her hand whilst suppressing a groan. Memories of Jo and threadbare motel rooms, gas station bathrooms and the back seat of the Impala assailed him, and Dean worked to dispel each inappropriate image conjured by Jo’s simple action.

Opening his eyes slowly, the vampire saw only the glint of a blade in the moonlight, and before he had chance to react, a knee landed in his crotch and Jo was instantly freed from his grasp. He had barely recoiled when the knife sliced across the creature’s throat, and his darkened eyes rolled.

The headless corpse sank to the ground, rendering the other two vampires momentarily speechless, and they stared at the petite blonde.

“Who’s next?” Jo inquired, tipping her head as she stared at the surviving vampires. The second lunged at her with a growl, his fangs already beginning to slip from his upper gums in readiness. Jo grunted as she pushed herself away from the wall with one hand and spun in a pirouette that brought her just out of the vampire’s reach. As the third made a grab for her, she delivered a swift elbow to his jaw before reaching into her jacket and pulling free her handgun. She fired a single round into the rear end of the second vampire, and her lips twisted into a satisfied smile as he dropped to the alley floor, screeching.

The still-mobile fang dropped to his knees and swept his foot out, knocking Jo from her feet. She landed hard, seeming to struggle to catch her breath, and Dean prepared to move forwards. However, before he could step into the fray, Jo had leapt to her feet and, although clearly still winded, the blade of her hunting knife whistled as it sliced through the air and lopped the vampire’s head clean off his shoulders. Panting, Jo’s gaze fell upon the remaining vampire, who was still howling as blood pooled from the gunshot wound in his buttock.

“You want to do the honours?” Jo asked breathlessly, smiling provocatively at Dean whose expression more than conveyed his admiration for the display he had witnessed.

He shrugged as his gaze befell the two headless vampire corpses and he offered up the weapon in his hand with a smile, his eyes sweeping the woman before him almost lasciviously. Jo’s cheeks were flushed a deep pink, and a light sheen of perspiration covered her brow as her chest rose and fell rapidly with the exertion. Dean swallowed hard, hungrily taking in the sight of her tanned legs and the curve of her hips.

She caught the machete he tossed her with ease, feeling his eyes upon her as he remained content to simply watch, realising that her safety was no longer threatened. Testing the weight of the weapon in her hand, Jo swung her shoulder back in preparation to strike. Dean’s gaze was drawn almost instantly to the line of her cleavage, and the thin cotton tank top clinging dangerously to her body; she smiled knowingly at his distraction.

“No! No!” the vampire pleaded, attempting to raise himself up onto his knees as Jo swung the machete in the air, barely flinching as the blade connected with the screaming vampire’s neck.

His head hit the ground with a heavy thud, a pool of blood forming rapidly from the exposed vessels discernable from the wound. Jo grimaced for little more than a second before cleaning the edge of the blade on the fallen creature’s shirt.

“We can go now,” Jo said, shooting Dean a glance and a smirk that belayed her utter satisfaction as she wiped her hands on her skirt.

Dean shook his head. In several strides, he had closed the distance between them and encircled his arms around Jo’s waist. They backed against the wall of the alley in unison, Dean sliding his hands up against the cool brick in order to pin Jo in place. She offered no resistance, snagging the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt in a balled fist and pulling his body flush against her own. Their lips collided heatedly and Dean’s hand pursued a course along the length of her thigh that, this time, Jo did not object to.

As their bodies separated, Dean broke into a grin that Jo met with a bemused responding smile.

“What?” she breathed, her eyes widening and a soft groan escaping her as Dean’s fingers slid beneath the hem of her skirt.

“You just full on Buffy’d those dudes,” Dean observed, licking his lips as he leaned even closer to Jo, who writhed a little in his embrace.

“I did,” she answered, struggling to raise herself onto tiptoes in order to instigate another kiss. Dean resisted, pressing against Jo and cocking an eyebrow.

“It was all kinds of hot.”

“Oh, yeah?!” Jo grinned, suddenly biting down on her lip and whimpering softly as his hands roamed her hip. His fingertips were rough against her skin as they slid around to cup her rear.

“Yeah,” Dean smirked, seconds later emitting a low, throaty groan of his own as she ground her hips against his in response.

Jo leant up and sought out his lips, kissing him hungrily and moaning in anticipation as he began a well-rehearsed exploration of her body. His hand ventured under her shirt with a clear destination in mind.

 “Dean...” she cautioned, suddenly conscious of their surroundings, and trying desperately to ignore the progress of his other hand as it explored her body.

“What?” he inquired, craning his neck and beginning to nibble at her ear lobe. He paused, nipping playfully at the skin at her throat, and sucking a little as Jo hissed in pleasure.

“Nobody’s watching,” Dean promised, sweeping his hand through Jo’s hair and brushing it away from her face. In the dim light of the back alley, she peered up at Dean through sparkling brown eyes, her own lustful intent evident.

Jo looped her arms around Dean’s neck, gasping as he grabbed her leg just beneath her knee, and hoisted it up against his side. The leather mini skirt, already indecently short, rode up further, but Jo no longer seemed to care as Dean proceeded to tease her lips with the tip of his tongue.

Half an hour later, they slipped from the alley, arm in arm, their night still young.