Meg's spine stiffened as Sam entered the bar. It was one thing to see his name on her screen. It was another to see him walking and talking, as though she didn't know for a fact that he had died. Of old age, no less. No nice, dignified death in battle, as she hoped she'd someday have. No, he'd been defeated by time. Yet there he stood, looking almost identical to the last time she'd laid eyes on him all those years ago. She hadn't even been wearing this body the last time she'd seem him, now that she thought about it. She'd been wearing the actual Meg Masters. She supposed she could count wearing him as seeing him, but it felt like cheating. Here and now though? She didn't have a very good feeling about this. She didn't question it though. Running into herself, literally, had dispelled any notion she'd had that any of this was a set up, or some kind of shifter nonsense. She took another long pull from her drink before turning her attention to him.
"Don't I always?" she asked with a simpering smile. She caught the bar tender's eye and tapped her glass, requesting a refill. She had a feeling she was about to need it.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, tall, dark, and sideburns?" She considered playing what she knew close to the chest, but discarded the idea. Where was the fun in that. "Heard you're sharing your head with someone special these days." She leaned in conspiratorily. "How is Lucifer? Still a handsome devil?"