"Don't give me that bored Sheriff routine," Harry snapped. "I know it's not just about me. Otherwise this meeting would have gone a lot uglier than it did." He pushed up off the wall and paced a little. "And I didn't say a damned thing about turning him away. I just want it settled, fast. I want you safe and I want him gone and I'll do whatever I need to make that happen. Which you already knew, so stuff the high and mighty act." He took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face. "God. Constantine." The palm of his hand under his glove itched and he rubbed it against his thigh. "I'd rather deal with Marcone," he muttered.
"Midnight's a stick in the mud, love, but he's powerful. An' he takes it personally when someone uses his religion o' choice wrongly." John's arm wrapped around her waist and he kissed his was up to her ear. "You didn't tell me how pretty your maker was. You're keeping secrets from me," he chuckled.