Who: Azazel, Jo Where: Roadhouse When: Afternoon Rating: Violence, Language Status: Complete, yay for playing both parts, lol
It was really amazing how much information people left out their in the open on the internet Azazel thought as he came up across the Roadhouse. While they had all gotten a little smarter of late there were pages upon pages where they had all blabbered about their lives, their relationships, their locations. He whistled as he walked into the bar, almost excited at who he would find. Azazel grinned when he locked eyes with the blonde who glanced up at the sound of the door being opened.
"Hello, Jo," he greeted.
The recognition on her part was almost instant, the eyes noticeable even before he moved towards her, the way he knew her name. With barely a pause Jo grabbed the bottle of Holy Water she had taken to keeping behind the bar, next to the guns and the stake, and flung some at Azazel as he walked up.
He merely smirked, wiping down his face before flinging her against the back wall with nothing more than a wave of his hand. "Please sweetheart, you're in the big leagues now, the kid's stuff doesn't work for me," he commented over the sound of bottles breaking from where Jo had been thrown into them. He leaned over the bar as she got to her feet, "still, I admire the spunk," he said and grinned.
"Go fuck yourself," she spat out at Azazel eyes flashing with anger.
He laughed, amused, and helped himself to a seat at the bar. "Joanna, such language," he scolded her and nodded to the bottles behind her. "I'll take a whiskey."
She almost flinched at the use of her full name, like Sammy it was a moniker only a certain few could get away with. At his demand for a drink she didn't move. Like she was actually going to serve some demon, let alone this demon. Azazel leaned forward looking up at her, all smirks and grins gone for the moment. "I'd rather not kill you, but I have no problem with it," he said pointedly. "That in mind I would suggest you pour me a drink," he smirked at that, leaning back again.
She pulled the bottle from behind her, stepping over the mess that had been created from his earlier actions. She would clean it up when he was gone. Jo grabbed a glass and poured the damn demon his damn drink, her eyes very rarely leaving Azazel and her mind all but willing Cox to stay upstairs and the hell out of this. The last thing she wanted was someone she cared about to get caught in the crossfire because some demon wanted to come chat.
"That's better," he said after taking a drink from the glass.
"Why?" She asked after a moment, setting the bottle back down with a raised brow.
"Why what?" He replied looking at her over his glass.
She scoffed a little, glancing to the side before back to the demon. "Why would you rather not kill me?" She asked, the curiosity evident in her tone. She had just assumed she was expendable to someone like Azazel, a means to get at the Winchesters.
Azazel leaned forward again, regarding the blonde in front of him. "I thought about it," he started, "I do owe your boyfriend one after all, and I figured killing you would be a far better punishment than just taking him out," he swirled the liquid in his cup around. He chuckled lightly and took another drink. "But I like you," he grinned as Jo rolled her eyes. "You remind me of someone."
"Oh yeah, who's that?" She asked.
"Maybe another time," he shot her down and took another drink. Azazel reached for the bottle and refilled his glass.
Jo watched him cautiously, trying to keep at least her exterior calm despite the internal freaking out. "So..." she started, her voice even but not without an edge to it, "if you're not here to kill me, you what... want to make conversation? Discuss the weather?"
He laughed. "It's LA, the weather is fantastic as usual." The demon glanced around the bar, and then let his gaze settle back on the woman in front of him. "No, I just wanted to see you, to let you know I'm not all that bad," he smirked at the small scoff that came from Jo. He turned serious again, leaning forward slightly towards Jo and staring up at her with some sort of mock sincerity. "I could do something for you, you know, anything really," he offered. "Any little thing your heart desires," he finished with a chilling grin.
"You could go back to hell where you belong, that would be awesome," she suggested. What the hell could she possibly want from someone like him that would be worth the price he would no doubt ask. "Other than that I think I'll pass on the demonic charity."
He drained the last of his drink. "Think about it," he said to her as he poured another. "It wouldn't even cost your soul, that's not how I work," he assured her, though he more than left out the real cost. "The offer is good for a while by the way, you never know when you might need a little 'demonic charity'" He lifted his hands to air quote the last bit, his usual twisted smirk playing on his features.
Jo narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly feeling very wary and put off by the demon. "I think you should leave now," she said, fists balled at her side. Something about the whole exchange left a sour taste in her mouth, something about the way he looked at her put the most unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Is that really any way to treat me, I'm being nice after all," he scolded her.
She stepped closer to the bar and pulled gun out from under the counter, aiming it at him. "Leave," she repeated, her jaw set and eyes hard.
Azazel laughed, "come on, you think it will really hurt me?"
Her thumb lifted from its grip and cocked the trigger of the gun, eyebrow raised slightly. "Won't kill you, I know that, but I imagine it's gotta sting a little," she replied with a smirk of her own.
"See, that's what I'm talking about," he said with a grin, entirely amused by the situation, "spunk."
Jo pulled the trigger, a round lodging itself into Azazel's shoulder. There was a groan from the demon, she was right it did hurt, though it was far from unbearable.
With nothing more than a mere thought from Azazel the gun was flung from Jo's hands and he grabbed her by the throat, easily pulling her out from behind the bar and up against the column that ran from the ceiling to meet the bar top a foot or so away from them. She struggled against the hold on her, feet reaching to touch solid ground though he kept her just above it. "Let me go you son of a bitch," she managed to spit out against the hand crushing into her throat, feet kicking out at Azazel's legs.
"Like I said, I'd rather not have to kill you, but you piss me off and I will," he said through gritted teeth, staring hard at her and so close she could smell the whiskey on his breath. He pulled her head back and shoved it back against the wood once before letting her go, Jo stumbled against the sudden release and stared up at him.
"Nice chat, we'll have to do it again," he said to her as he pulled out a bill fold and tossed a few onto the bartop for his drinks. With one last pointed grin he walked out of the bar, holding a hand to his bleeding shoulder.