(no subject)
Who: Lucifer and Sam Winchester
When: Shortly after Lucifer's fight with his poor little brother, Gabriel.
Where: Just around the city, not far from Gabriel's warehouse
Summary: It only takes one thing to make Lucifer terrible, horrible, no good very bad day into a great one: Sam Winchester pumped up on demon blood.
To say the day had been rough was like calling a brillo pad soft.
But Lucifer had his freedom (the Port was, at least, not as confining as Hell) and he did what he could to savor it. As long as he had that, his plans could go forward...with or without his brother.
He paused at a street corner and looked down at his hand, and finally rubbed away the dried mask of Baldur's blood. Somewhere between picking gore off his palm and his thoughts wandering to Gabriel again, he recognized the familiar sulphur-brimstone scent of a demon.
He turned on his heel, expecting to find Azazel, since apparently he had been here recently and had been calling himself Satan.
When: Shortly after Lucifer's fight with his poor little brother, Gabriel.
Where: Just around the city, not far from Gabriel's warehouse
Summary: It only takes one thing to make Lucifer terrible, horrible, no good very bad day into a great one: Sam Winchester pumped up on demon blood.
To say the day had been rough was like calling a brillo pad soft.
But Lucifer had his freedom (the Port was, at least, not as confining as Hell) and he did what he could to savor it. As long as he had that, his plans could go forward...with or without his brother.
He paused at a street corner and looked down at his hand, and finally rubbed away the dried mask of Baldur's blood. Somewhere between picking gore off his palm and his thoughts wandering to Gabriel again, he recognized the familiar sulphur-brimstone scent of a demon.
He turned on his heel, expecting to find Azazel, since apparently he had been here recently and had been calling himself Satan.