Chapter Six: The Plan

Jack blinked into existence with a quiet whoosh inside a wide garage filled with vintage cars, rock posters, and a jukebox softly humming in the corner. It was Dean Winchester’s personal Heaven — of course it looked like an old mechanic’s dream shack with the comfort of a dive bar.

Jack took a cautious step forward.

Suddenly—

“Who the hell—”

A blur of plaid, denim, and muscle came charging toward him, angel blade in hand.

“Dean, wait—!”

Dean’s reflexes were as fast as ever, but Jack was faster. A soft shimmer of golden light pulsed in the air around him just before the blade could make contact. It ricocheted off an invisible barrier with a satisfying zing, leaving Dean stumbling back and blinking in confusion.

Jack raised both hands. “It’s me! It’s me!”

Dean squinted, then dropped the blade. “Damn it, Jack! You can’t just pop in on people like that! I thought you were a rogue angel or— I dunno— someone pulling a Chuck.”

“I have a protection spell for sudden encounters,” Jack said sheepishly, brushing himself off. “Standard protocol. Sorry.”

Dean sighed and wiped a hand down his face, then gave Jack a once-over. “Well, you scared the crap outta me, kid. But hey—”

He cracked into a wide grin and pulled Jack into a hug.

Jack smiled into it. Dean’s hugs were warm and solid. Protective. Like a guy who’d taken on the world and lived to build a home inside it.

Dean pulled back. “What brings the Almighty God of All Things to my little corner of paradise?”

Jack shifted awkwardly. “I… need advice.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Advice? From me?”

Jack scratched the back of his neck. “I think… you’re the only one I know who could help with this kind of thing.”

Dean crossed his arms. “Is it monster stuff? Apocalypse-level drama? Something-something-demons?”

“No. It’s a girl.”

Dean blinked.

Then he grinned. “Oh, hell yes.”

Jack sighed, already regretting it.

Dean dropped onto the couch, propping his boots up on a cooler. “Alright, shoot. Who is she, what’s she like, and when’s the wedding?”

“Dean,” Jack said dryly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dean said, chuckling. “Okay, start from the top.”

Jack paced a little as he began, nervous energy filling the room. “Her name is Maya. She’s a hunter. But she’s also… more than that. She works at a retirement home as a receptionist and makes coffee. She has a cat named Nodi who’s scared of everything and another cat named Gucci who technically belongs to her sister, Eva, but cuddles with her instead. She plays card games with her neighbor and makes pasta with too much cream and watches shows she’ll never admit she likes.”

Dean blinked.

Jack stopped pacing. “She’s… funny. And brave. And soft in ways that don’t always show. She gets overwhelmed sometimes but keeps going. And she doesn’t like asking for help. At all.”

Dean stared at him for a long moment.

“What?” Jack asked.

Dean let out a low whistle. “You know her favorite pasta sauce and her pets' names, but you’re telling me you ‘just want to be friends’?”

Jack looked at the floor. “She doesn’t like me. I helped her once—twice, actually—and both times she looked at me like she couldn’t get away fast enough. I think I freak her out.”

“Well,” Dean said, leaning back, “can’t say I blame her. Mysterious guy shows up outta nowhere, yellow flashlight glow, suspiciously good timing… you’re lucky she didn’t shoot you.”

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want her to be afraid of me. I just want to talk to her. Get to know her. I thought… maybe you’d know how to get someone’s attention. Or at least how to make a plan.”

Dean gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you have in mind?”

Jack sat on the worn couch as Dean cracked open a beer and slouched into a chair like he was watching reality TV.

“Well… she gets messages sometimes. Coordinates. She treats them like a hunt. I'm thinking of doing that...send her coordinates"

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess—you want to play damsel?”

Jack frowned. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You literally want her to rescue you.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “Not exactly. I thought maybe we could… set the stage. Find a nest of vampires. I can lead them close. You and I can enchant the area with a few protection spells—nothing flashy, just enough to make sure nobody actually gets hurt. Then she shows up, sees me in danger… and helps. That’s when I talk to her.”

Dean rubbed his jaw, considering. “So it’s a setup. Not the worst idea. But you gotta tweak it.”

“How?”

“We give the vamps just enough leash to make it look real, but they don’t land a single bite. You stay on the ground, act like they got the upper hand. And just before one of them does something dumb, boom—Maya shows up. You act surprised. Grateful. Casual. Not stalkery. Maybe she helps you up, maybe she says something snarky—but you don’t leave this time.”

Jack nodded, already seeing it unfold. “And I don’t disappear. I stick around. Talk.”

“Exactly. Be normal. Or, you know, whatever passes for normal when you’re a celestial being with glowing eyes and a God complex.”

“I don’t have a God complex.”

Dean raised his beer. “Says the literal God.”

Jack let out a soft laugh. “Thank you, Dean. Really.”

Dean gave him a look—part amusement, part pride. “Kid, you’ve got it bad. You just don’t know it yet.”

Jack glanced down. “She’s… beautiful, you know? Like—her hair’s this light brown that almost glows gold in the sunlight. And her eyes? They’re this gray-blue that doesn’t even look real. Like storm clouds and sapphires. Her cheeks always get red when she’s embarrassed or cold. And her lips are—”

“Okay, okay, Romeo,” Dean said, waving a hand. “I get it. She’s a ten.”

“More like an eleven.”

Dean grinned, then gave Jack a look—somewhere between amused and proud. “Man, you really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

“Nothing,” Dean said quickly. “Forget it.”

They fell into a more relaxed silence for a moment. Jack leaned on the garage wall, watching the jukebox shift to an old rock ballad.

Dean glanced at him sideways. “So… how’s Cas doing?”

Jack smiled. “He’s good. Busy. I think he misses you sometimes.”

Dean snorted. “He misses nagging me, maybe.”

Jack chuckled. “And Sam’s well. He’s still teaching. Still reading too much. Still telling me not to interfere too much.”

Dean grinned again. “That tracks.”

After a beat, Dean stood up and stretched. “Alright, I gotta head out. Heaven ain’t gonna grill its own burgers.”

Jack nodded. “Thanks for the advice. Really.”

Dean clapped his shoulder again. “Anytime, kid.”

As he walked toward the garage door, Dean called over his shoulder, “She must be crazy hot if she’s got the all-powerful God tripping over his own sneakers.”

Jack’s cheeks went pink.

“She’s… beautiful,” he said softly.

Dean just laughed and vanished in a swirl of white-blue light.

---

By dusk, Jack was crouched quietly near the edge of the quarry. The surrounding trees loomed high above the misty valley, cloaked in the hush of a sleeping forest. He could hear the scuffling of vampire feet nearby—the dull, predatory rhythm of monsters on the move.

They hadn’t noticed him yet. That was part of the charm.

He’d placed himself in the clearing, the moon above throwing pale silver light onto his face. The enchantments Dean helped him cast were active—strong enough to prevent real harm, subtle enough to avoid detection.

Now, all that was left was her.

He felt her presence before he saw her. A quiet shuffle in the trees. The sound of a boot cracking a twig. Then a shimmer of motion as Maya crept between the shadows, crossbow slung over her shoulder.

Jack’s chest thumped.

Now.

He stood, just enough to draw attention, and the vampires noticed. Their heads snapped toward him, fangs bared, eyes glowing red.

They ran.

Jack let them tackle him—just hard enough to hit the ground. He hissed, dramatic, arms flailing as two vamps pinned him.

He looked up, searching the tree line—

And saw her.

Eyes sharp, body tense, crossbow lifted.

Maya.

She didn’t hesitate.