"Well, lady," Dean says, grinning fit to break something, "I'm guessin' you're gonna want to get on your phone right about--"
He moves, crouching down to brush one sweat-damp hand over a few of the more critically-placed lines of powdered bone. And if he happens to hit a couple candles, too, good on him. God, death-magic sucks.
"--now."
Here's hoping Sam's got his act together. Otherwise, they're fucked.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-01-29 06:14 am (UTC)He moves, crouching down to brush one sweat-damp hand over a few of the more critically-placed lines of powdered bone. And if he happens to hit a couple candles, too, good on him. God, death-magic sucks.
"--now."
Here's hoping Sam's got his act together. Otherwise, they're fucked.