He took the space next to her, hands closing around the glass in front of him. "I didn't mean it like that when I used the word fun," Sam said, looking down. "I really didn't." There was nothing fun about being tortured. Not by anyone, no less one of hell's best. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like, taking something like that on day after day, for all of eternity. Sam got the feeling that he wouldn't have lasted long down there.
Downing his own drink, Sam reached for the bottle and tipped it toward her. "Sounds to me like he doesn't know you very well at all," Sam commented, shrugging. "He was just trying to piss you off." He shot her a look at that. "And you would know. Demons do it all the damn time."