>>“Put something halfway decent on and I'll consider it”
“Fine,” Jo volleys right back, “you choose the next song.” She believes he'll actually make a fool of himself singing about as much as she believes her mom will suddenly waltz downstairs and hand her a pistol along with her blessing to go out hunting. Most guys she knows are high school boys or hunters, both of whom seem to regard making fools of themselves as worse than death.
When she makes her comment about Uncle John she notices the way Dean blanches a little, forces out that awkward laugh, and the stilted ”“Ye-ah... That'd be fun." Jo's not usually one for knowing when not to press it or smoothing things over or any of that, sees it as weak, but something about the way Dean looks, the tired gestures, makes her subside.
>>"So, what's next?" “Just mix all that stuff in with the ground beef,” she instructs, “then when you're done a little of the sauce, then we make patties and cook 'em. All about the ingredients, onion powder and stuff gives it that kick,” she adds absently, fidgeting around a little as she watches him, obviously frustrated by her inability to do more than boss Dean around. Suddenly the quilt she's been thinking of as a necessity is stifling and confining instead of comforting and she shrugs it off, backtracking across the kitchen to drop it carefully on Sam's lap. Guy's big enough for one quilt to be kinda inadequate anyway, she decides, stretching her shoulders a little before walking back to Dean and looking around him at the burgers shaping up on the counter. Dean actually seems to be getting the proportions pretty much right without her direction and she looks up at him and tilts her head slightly, “Not bad. You do a lot of the cooking at home?”