Jun 28, 2008 07:15
"Sam, give me the knife." She held out her hand and wriggled her fingers; the universal sign for hand over the money bucko transformed for her purposes.
He looked at her warily and she glared back. "Sam, the knife? Any day now would be nice."
Still he just watched her fingers clenching and unclenching around the knife as if he was making up his mind and then changing it in rapid succession. "Damnit Sam, give me the knife!"
She had patience. In spades, bucket loads, barrels full. No matter what she told people, the fact still stood, she had the patience of an angel. And Sam Winchester was testing it.
"Why do you want it?"
Her eyebrow curved up in something like how dare you before the déjà vu hit and she turned his words over in her mind.
"Oh please. I want the knife to kill myself because you're annoying the fuck out of me. Surely death would be better than this bullshit." Her lip curled slightly in a sneer. "So hand it over."
The blade passed from his hand to hers quickly and she smiled sweetly at him, weighing it in her palm. "Next time? Don't make me ask more than once."
[community] quotethis_muses,
[verse] apuppyandademon,
[prompt] june,
[entry] narrative