"Probably have something to do with semi-automatics, I expect." He was glad he wasn't a Principality over there. Though he honestly wasn't sure why Crowley hadn't since moved since America did seem like a place where a demon could literally do nothing and still get credit.
"I'll have the red, white and waffle, thank you. With the peach preserves. And a cafe latte. And a water." This to the waitress who seems a bit taken aback by the order but nevertheless scribbles on her notepad. When she is gone, he turns back to Crowley. It is really very sad in a way. Here he was, meant to inspire and-- well they had fought.
They were making up now, of course. That was their way. Grumble and then lunch. Though nothing was ever resolved per se. Just left to sit here. But here was different. Here they were supposed to look out for one another, weren't they? He had been doing a fairly poor job of it, clothes aside.
"Listen..." He reached across the table and touched...well the space near his arm. Close enough so he could feel the heat of his skin through his clothes. "Let's not argue the whys and maybes and so on. It could be you're absolutely right and we're all doomed but-- but... but I-- I can't believe that because you're so very clever. And I know you'll find just the right thing to say or do, just as always. Here or there or anywhere. There isn't a situation made that you can't seem to turn to your own advantage."
However sinful that might be.
"So, please..." He trailed off because he didn't know what to add in there. Be happy? Have faith? In yourself? In us? No...
"Forgive me for being-- awkward about the whole situation." Because he hoped that at least will smooth things down the road. Though he felt a bit like he was talking to the upper management at the moment, always coming up short. Always coming up silly and foolish and just an out of shape Principality who no one blamed for losing the Garden so very easily.
No really.
He knew what they thought and didn't care. But he does care about Crowley thinking him an idiot, even if he felt like one.
no subject
"I'll have the red, white and waffle, thank you. With the peach preserves. And a cafe latte. And a water." This to the waitress who seems a bit taken aback by the order but nevertheless scribbles on her notepad. When she is gone, he turns back to Crowley. It is really very sad in a way. Here he was, meant to inspire and-- well they had fought.
They were making up now, of course. That was their way. Grumble and then lunch. Though nothing was ever resolved per se. Just left to sit here. But here was different. Here they were supposed to look out for one another, weren't they? He had been doing a fairly poor job of it, clothes aside.
"Listen..." He reached across the table and touched...well the space near his arm. Close enough so he could feel the heat of his skin through his clothes. "Let's not argue the whys and maybes and so on. It could be you're absolutely right and we're all doomed but-- but... but I-- I can't believe that because you're so very clever. And I know you'll find just the right thing to say or do, just as always. Here or there or anywhere. There isn't a situation made that you can't seem to turn to your own advantage."
However sinful that might be.
"So, please..." He trailed off because he didn't know what to add in there. Be happy? Have faith? In yourself? In us? No...
"Forgive me for being-- awkward about the whole situation." Because he hoped that at least will smooth things down the road. Though he felt a bit like he was talking to the upper management at the moment, always coming up short. Always coming up silly and foolish and just an out of shape Principality who no one blamed for losing the Garden so very easily.
No really.
He knew what they thought and didn't care. But he does care about Crowley thinking him an idiot, even if he felt like one.