Az would die the next time she saw him. If she didn't tear off his clothes and fuck him senseless. Seriously, these dreams were making her crazy. To keep her nerves calm, she'd even started taking hits right before bed. Ok, so coke was a stimulant and probably wouldn't help her much. But at least everything felt less sharp. Well, the desire did. And then she just felt good till she dreamed and that damn asshat of an angel came back to her dream. And it didn't matter that he could not possibly be causing these dreams. He was going to pay.
In a frustratingly foul mood, the icy blond had headed out to a bar for a drink. "Flaming Scotch? You know, one could totally get the wrong impression with that name," she smirked at the bartender. "Jack and Coke please, honey," she tossed in, in the flamingest voice she could muster. Snickering at the man's potential response, she suddenly caught a familiar face. "Hey, Handcuffs!" Grinning, she held up her glass as soon as it was delivered. Turning serious, she offered the toast, "Thanks for taking that hit for me before." She could be appreciative of more than just a fine ass.