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It was typically impossible to mistake when the bakery was delivering, mostly because it was Jo that made the runs - and not because of Jo herself, but because her late 40's model Ford Hudson that she'd restored. It was immaculate and a rich color of blue, ran clean, and if you knew what to listen for, you'd know its approach.

The woman herself hopped out of the vehicle, undoing her chef's jacket and tossing it back in the cab, letting down her hair from its previous bun. She still had her black slacks on from work, and though the tank top she wore wasn't exactly professional, it was better than dying of heat in the jacket. Trotting to the passenger side, she pulled out the four wide boxes of goods, carrying them with a steady and familiar hand. The few patrons that poked their head out of the bar and offered to help were waved off with her free hand - yes she was carrying four large boxes balanced on the fingers of one hand and no she doesn't need help, don't make her her embarrass you with a contest of strength and balance - a routine banter of words between her and those she knew. A cheeky comment accompanied by the barest lift of a brow and she at least was making herself comfortable before she'd have to mingle with the firefighters.

Not that she minded, especially one in particular, but it was still a sort of mental preparation to be that level of social.

She sauntered through with slapped hands at people who got too close, solemnly telling the sullen individuals that this delivery was sacred. If they touched it, she'd have to kill them. Given that she delivered lines like that with a neutral look, she wouldn't have been surprised if some believed her.

Jo moved around the patio with familiarity, and when Rylan approached her, her eyes visibly lit up. "You know it!" A brow lifted, and with it, the briefest hint of a grin. "I was wondering if I'd get to see my favorite hose slinger," she teased as she put the boxes down carefully. Once they were secure, she turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a friendly hug, kissing his cheek affably. Settling back down on her feet, she smiled up at him, more than just her usual subtle twist of lips.

"How are you, handsome?" She turned back to the boxes, setting them out equally and opening them up. "It's been a while, I've missed that smile of yours!"

"You're always busy, Mr. Fireman. There's always someone to save." She turned on her heel after the boxes were open, looking at him and gently biting her bottom lip around a smile, her expression fond before she answered the question more seriously. "I did -- I did hear about it, my boss was there, she got hurt. She'll be okay, but it's a little close to home, you know?"

Jo scoffed softly but couldn't hide her small, pleased smile, tilting her head to the side in a manner that said she knew exactly what he was going for. "I only deliver because I know you'll be here Ry," she teased. Sure, they had a history, but they were both in it for fun and at the end of the day, she called him friend. Covering her mouth with one of her hands, she actually had to stifle a small laugh as he stuffed his mouth. "Now you're just flattering me! But after so many years of this, I am proud to say that I found a sweet that our beloved Lieutenant will actually eat. Very proud. I should get a commendation for that alone." Leaning in against his shoulder, she whispered loudly, "There's a few more in the back I snuck in just for you. Don't tell anyone or they'll know I'm playing favorites."

Chuckling softly, elbowing him back and playfully pushing his stomach, she wrinkled her nose as if the idea of someone decent was far-fetched. "You know me, Ry. Fun and games and the occasional good time." Jo shrugged, as noncommittal as her dating life. "Mostly just helping jefa at the bakery, finishing up some bikes now that I have the parts I need. I don't have the time for romance, blegh." She laughed at that, a soft and light curve of her lips before she wrestled it back under control. "What about you, hot stuff? Anyone smart enough to get you on lock?" One brow lifted, and then both waggled suggestively, forever teasing him about his habits that were just as bad as hers.

Jo covered her eyes with amusement as Rylan all but inhaled the cookies, trying rather hard to keep her composure. It was damn near impossible; seeing the man so animated was always a joy, always made her so frustratingly happy. She supposed he knew it, or at least, knew it with her. "It's a double-edged sword - being in danger sucks, but having a hero like you to swing it...not so bad."

And he got her at the protest, Jo uttering a sound of disbelief before she laughed, warm and open. "You're impossible! You make it sound like I'm trying to poison you!" She pushed his shoulder. "I already told you - you don't like sweets because you're too damn sweet yourself. You gotta share that sugar." Was that the line that landed them at her place? She didn't remember, but she knew she'd said it at some point.

Green eyes opened wide and she gasped, putting a hand over her chest. "What?" She swallowed down a gleeful sound and jumped up to him, hugging him tight around his middle this time. "Really? Oh I knew you had it in you! Like hell it's not about you, it's -- " Jo snapped her jaw shut, surprised, looking to where Rylan was indicating and then slowly back to the fireman, eyes narrowed. "Are you trying to set me up with your friend?" Resting her cheek on his collar, she peered up at him with scrutiny before a small smile won out. "You're a cad. But you'll always be my number one fireman."

Acting like he was twisting her arm, she let him go and sighed, putting a hand on her hip. If his 'buddy' Cas was a righteous a*****e, Ry was going to hear about it. With a lot of cake feeding.

Edging away from the table with the other, she waved to a few that said 'hi' or 'thanks, Jo,' not about to be pulled away from Rylan. Jo gave her best innocent, doe-eyed look when he called her out on her choice of words, batting her eyelashes and repressing a smile with enough force it was giving her dimples. "But you are my number one and I'll win because I work at a bakery." It was very matter-of-fact in delivery, putting her arm around Rylan's hip and walking with him. "You owe me that discussion, Ry. Darlene's, my treat."

She listened to his bouncy explanation, some ditty about a poll, and by the time he was done, Jo had her face buried against his side trying not to laugh. "Ry, you can just -- you can vouch for the guy and I'd believe you, now you're worrying me." Her eyes turned up to him, and giving in again (damnit), she smiled at him. "If you're wrong, I know where you live - and Fidget loves me. I will take him home." She uttered a soft 'tsk!' at him, giving him a light squeeze around his middle. Rylan was a Good Type and she trusted him more than she trusted most; if the handsome 'Cas' was even half the hype, she'd at least have a better evening than dusting her rugs and binge-watching Netflix.

One brow hiked in an affirmative manner to Rylan's confirmation, though the little tidbit earned a tilt of her head and a curious, intrigued look. "I open Saturday but any time after one, I'm your gal."

She accepted the kiss to her temple like a trophy, giving the taller man a sly look of acceptance. "You better eat them all -- !" A gasp was swallowed at the playful gesture, shooting him a you will pay for that look over her shoulder before making her way towards the one known as Cas. Game on.

Approaching the man, Jo schooled her expression into smooth relaxation. "You, sir," she said by way of greeting, "are either new or not a firefighter. I can tell because you're not bum-rushing the table." She raised her brows in the slightest, her subtle smile in place, offering a hand. "I'm Jo -- Joey, some of the guys prefer. Can I get you anything, a refill on that beer?" So she wasn't so great at beating around the bush - but who had time for that?

Her handshake was not gentle of feminine, respectful but the type that required as much in return. "Hell of a week to blow into town, but fortunate for me." Jo waved a dismissive hand at the savage comment, uttering a soft sound that could be considered amused. "They know I only bring the best for them. Even Lieutenant Rylan succumbed." In more ways than one, but that was not the topic at hand.

She didn't immediately answer when he indicated he'd take a refill, turning and walking to where the beer was, grabbing the one she'd seen him drinking. Also grabbing one for herself, she winked at Ry before returning to Cas, setting his beer against the key chain on her hip and popping the cap.

Handing it over to him, she took a seat near him, crossing her legs and opening her own beer. "Joey to them," she replied finally, lifting her beer in the air to 'toast' him, "Jo to you." Sipping her beer was enough to hide her brief smile. "I'm only a 'bro' when I have to fix something they can't, but believe me, it's usually 'babes' and 'sweethearts' and me threatening to beat them over the head with a wrench." One brow curved high, asking if she was going to have that problem with him.

"Ry is eating my desserts," she agreed, and Cas could damn well bet she would take credit where it was due. "I don't know about magic, but I'm a persistent thorn in his side and now that I know his weakness, I exploit him. Totally worth it." Green eyes turned towards the man in question, repressing the immediate feeling of a grin as she looked back to Cas, cheeks dimpling.

She uttered a soft hum when he addressed her, apparently liking the sound of it from him as well. The sound evolved into a soft exclamation of amusement. "That is probably the smoothest compliment I've been paid," she rewarded him with a brief grin, impressed, "I'll have to remember that." Jo made a mental note, chalking one up for the enigmatic Cas.

"Or whatever else is handy," she confirmed, lackadaisical in tone and taking another sip of her beer. "Mostly the old engine they have. I can fix almost anything with an engine, but they know restorations are my thing. It's not a business like the bakery, but they know I love it and it's a treat for me." Jo shrugged, resting the butt of the bottle on her knee and turning her hand over so it could be seen: they weren't soft, calloused from hard work, scars knicked and healed. "If they can't do it, I can.

But what about you?" she turned back to him, eyes turning over his face with interest. "Model, perhaps?"