"Oh?" Jo quirked an eyebrow when Sam mentioned getting another crucifix, shooting a glance at him over her shoulder. "Do you know who from? Was it the mystery salt-giver again?" Something about that whole affair was still niggling at the back of her mind, though granted she had other, bigger things to worry about. She set both the bottle - "You might as well keep this anyway, until you can sort out your own stash" - and the jar on his bed, then stepped back, turning to face the tall, jumpy hunter. There was something awkward about him, it was true, but evil? She was having a hard time picturing it, especially once he got talking, the novelty of having someone be entirely sensible about hunting endeavours scanning as more than welcome...
... she couldn't help but frown slightly, though, over Sam's quick volte-face, looking sidelong at him. Any sensible normal girl - any civillian - would probably have opted not to push, because a caged dog will still bite if you poke it hard enough and often enough, but 'curious' and 'impulsive' made for a hell of a combination when it came to chasing leads. "He? You mean Lucifer, right?" Running a hand through her hair Jo shrugged. "I don't know, I'm still struggling to picture it; the Lucifer chilling in some random lunatic asylumn? Worst apocalypse ever."
This was the part where Sam would say something deeply sensible and pretty obvious and she'd take the news back to Dean and everything would be okay, or as okay as it could be when they were still inmates (Jo having picked up pretty quickly that the spectrum in here wasn't skewed quite as heavily towards the suck as she'd expected). Right?