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Anna sits at the bar, nursing a tumbler of generously spiked eggnog courtesy of Ash, watching her family mingle around her. Her brother Cas is across the table from Jo’s mom Ellen, matching her shot for shot and getting more and more flushed by the minute, while Dean and Sam are facing off in a game of pool with Bobby, losing spectacularly to the grizzled older man. She’s tickled to see Bobby’s customary trucker cap has been replaced with a Santa hat, no doubt Ash’s doing as well. Ash himself is at the stereo, flipping through Christmas albums like he’s on a mission, squinting down at the CD cases with a seriousness he rarely shows in other areas.
The remains of their dinner are still sprawled out across the three tables they’d shoved together for the event, not much left but a couple pieces of turkey that will no doubt make it into some delicious gravy-soaked sandwiches tomorrow. Everyone is stuffed full, but they’ll no doubt find room for the pie she can smell baking in the kitchen, sweet smells of cinnamon and apple and pumpkin drifting out the swinging door.
Anna smiles contentedly, sipping her drink and letting the sounds of her family making merry wash over her, the bickering and teasing mingling with the Christmas music filtering out of the sound system. There’s only one person missing from the tableau, and that person appears in no time, strong, slender arms sliding around Anna’s waist from behind.
“Hey,” she says softly as Jo ducks her head to press a kiss to the curve of her neck in response. “How’s it going?”
Jo hums against Anna’s skin. “I’m good. You okay over here all by yourself?”
“I’m amazing,” Anna replies softly and means it. She tilts her head, pressing her temple against Jo’s. “This is probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. It’s been a long time since Cas and I had a family to celebrate with.”
Jo nods in answer. She knows by now how hard it is for Anna to talk about her family, how she misses them every day. And Jo gets it; her mom is her everything and Bobby’s pretty much the best surrogate father you could ask for but she never stops missing her dad, especially on holidays when his absence feels like a gaping wound. No amount of time can really smooth over those jagged edges, no one can ever really fill up that hole in her chest, but having her family around - a mismatched group of people that now includes Anna - helps a lot with holding those edges together.
So she doesn’t push, just wraps her arms tighter around Anna’s waist and smiles. “You know what would make it even better?”
Anna shakes her head, a little smile playing over her lips. “What?”
Jo holds up her hand over their heads, grinning in that bright, mischievous way of hers. “Mistletoe.”
Anna looks up, grinning at the little plant held tight between the blonde’s thumb and forefinger, a red ribbon bow tied jauntily around the stem. “I don’t think it works if you carry it where you want it,” she teases. “Isn’t it supposed to be an accident?”
“Shut up and kiss me, Milton.”
A soft laugh falls from Anna’s lips and she reaches to curl a hand behind Jo’s neck, pulling her down to meet her lips. “Merry Christmas, Jo.”
“Merry Christmas, Anna.” Jo leans in and kisses her again, soft and lingering, arms curled tight around the redhead, holding her close. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
Anna’s smile softens, and she fits her arms over Jo’s where they curl around her waist. She takes another glance around the room at her friends, gathered together in the beat-up old bar, and leans into the warmth of Jo pressed up behind her.
“Me too, Jo. Me too.”