salver: (everybody gets in somehow)
[personal profile] salver
He's had time to think and consider his approach.

Especially once he plugged the card into his laptop, after the alarm went off letting him know that the land line was dead.

All the beer's down cellar, in the room. He's packing -- a gun, an extra clip, a couple of knives, some charms (never hurts), a ziploc bag of salt, some sterno, matches, and a small flask.

And now he's sitting peacefully in front of his computer, playing a few rounds of Bejeweled.

Date: 2009-07-21 03:37 am (UTC)
mynamesnotmeg: (sam: knows what he's doing)
From: [personal profile] mynamesnotmeg
"Hey, Bobby."

He, in turn, manages to sound almost sheepish.

"How's it going?"

Date: 2009-07-21 03:47 am (UTC)
mynamesnotmeg: (sam: smiles then lies)
From: [personal profile] mynamesnotmeg
"Yeah, it has, hasn't it? Sorry about that."

He glances up at the ceiling as he crosses the threshold--

--just in case--

--then gives Bobby another sheepish look and meanders in the direction of the study.

Date: 2009-07-21 03:57 am (UTC)
mynamesnotmeg: (sam: knows what he's doing)
From: [personal profile] mynamesnotmeg
Sam shrugs, stepping to one side to idly examine a book.

"Working a job nearby, close enough that I figured I'd stop in and say hey."

Date: 2009-07-21 04:06 am (UTC)
mynamesnotmeg: (sam: knows what he's doing)
From: [personal profile] mynamesnotmeg
"You know Dean," Sam tells him.

His quick smile's a little crooked.

"Holed up somewhere with a girl and a twelve-pack."

Date: 2009-07-21 04:16 am (UTC)
mynamesnotmeg: (sam: demonic)
From: [personal profile] mynamesnotmeg
He tilts his head back, studying the ceiling with morbid curiosity.

Darkness spills across his eyes, pooling like ink.

"You ask me, he's in way over his head."

It was this room before, wasn't it? The demon wasn't here long last time before the fucking Winchesters got all exorcism-happy, but it's not like the house is that big.

In any case, there's no sign of the devil's trap now, and no sense of restraint as he cautiously edges his way further into the room.

Date: 2009-07-21 04:33 am (UTC)
mynamesnotmeg: (sam: knows what he's doing)
From: [personal profile] mynamesnotmeg
Something flickers in his expression.

Milliways.

This could be a real downer, especially if any of the busybody weak-sister milktoast do-gooders from last time are running around and sticking their noses into things.

On the other hand, he doesn't want the old man to get suspicious, and come to think of it, it might not be a bad idea to get him out of his rathole.

Might just make it all that much sweeter to do it there, watching him realize how thoroughly he'd been tricked and that he'd never, never, be coming home to his messy little nest.

Sam smiles.

"Bet they've even got a lot better stuff than what you usually keep on hand, too," he quips.

Date: 2009-07-21 04:38 am (UTC)
mynamesnotmeg: (sam: knows what he's doing)
From: [personal profile] mynamesnotmeg
"Hey, if you're buying..."

Sam grins at him, and ducks through the door.

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