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Pamela Barnes is a woman who knows how to take an opportunity. So when the blonde walks into Heaven's Roadhouse and asks after Ash, she invites her to stay for a beer while they wait for the elusive Doctor Badass to come back from wherever he's gone off to this time. "Jo Harvelle," says the girl, holding out a hand and smiling a sweet, dimpled smile that Pam can tell hides a framework of steel against her bones.
She takes the kid's hand, her smile widening as she feels the calluses left by years with guns and knives rasp against their mirrors on her own fingers, and holds Jo's hand a little longer than strictly necessary. "Pam. Pam Barnes."
Jo's eyes widen. "The psychic, right? Dean said you helped them out a few times."
Pam's smile turns bitter. "Till they got me killed, yeah."
Jo nods, pulling her hand from Pam's. "Yeah. I know how that goes."
"You too?"
She nods, her blond waves shimmering in the dim bar light, and Pam puts her at about twenty-four, twenty-five: older than Pam had originally guessed. "Heaven's not so bad, though." Her dimples return as she reaches for a pair of beers over the counter, hooking long fingers around their necks, and tosses one to Pam. "I've got my dad back, and the beer's free. Not to mention the bar cleans itself."
Pam chuckles. "This was your place, then? How come it's Ash's Heaven?"
"This was his home, I guess. More than it was ever mine. My mom ran the Roadhouse after my dad died, and Ash– well, I guess Ash has always been here." She turns to lean against the bar, catching sight of the pool table and letting out a laugh. "I see Ash has everything he could possibly have wished for." She gestures with her beer to the pool table, now clear of balls and instead covered in fuzzy pillows.
Pam leans back as well, unable to keep from smiling in return. "Dean'll get a kick out of that next time he's upstairs."
Jo snorts. "You know, the first time they came for a, uh, a visit, I was worried. Thought they were dead and gone forever."
"But they're the damn Winchesters, right? Shit doesn't stick to them."
Jo clinks her beer on Pam's and takes a long gulp. "You know Dean tried to play the 'last night on Earth' crap with me once?"
"No shit?"
"Yeah. I had a thing for him back on Earth."
"Hard not to like one of them. It's like chocolate and vanilla, those boys. Both are delicious, but everyone's got a favorite. Me, I prefer giant and grumpy to cute and manly."
Jo bursts out into laughter. "Yeah, you'd eat Dean alive." She sighs, shaking her head as she drains the last of her beer. "It was such a big deal, I thought. Such a huge secret. I used to dream about telling him and having him sweep me off into the sunset. But you know what I regret most?"
"What?"
"I should have slept with him just that once. So I could stop wondering what it would have been like." She grabs another beer, casting a glance up and down Pam's lean frame against the stool. "And seriously, do you know how hard it is to get laid in Heaven?"
Pam slides a little closer, hand inches from Jo's own. "You know, I think it might have just gotten a little easier for both of us."
The blonde grins in response, eyes catching Pam's. Pam lets those damn dimples draw her in, feeling the warmth of a real human connection for the first time in she doesn't know how long.
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Ash doesn't get back till the next morning (or the closest to morning you can have in Heaven). He's exhausted from a long night of research and networking, but that doesn't make him fistpump any less hard when he sees his bed is occupied.