valarltd | A few more fanfic bits

"I don't know where your ship learned to speak, but it has the most peculiar accent," Threepio grumbled, but kept communicating with the Falcon. He missed Artoo, off Maker knew where with Master Luke.

"Come on golden boy. Mayva can show you the galaxy," the ship said. Freighters generally weren't sophisticated enough to have quasi-personalities, but like so many things around Captain Solo, this one was unusual.

"Not unless you tell me what part has malfunctioned," he snapped.

The ship sighed. "All right. But... talk to me again, will ya? The trips are boring, and the captain loves me, but he treats me like a machine."

"We are machines. But, yes, I'll be back." Droids didn't have feelings, exactly, but Threepio understood. Master Luke talked to him and Artoo like sentients. Everyone else saw only appliances. He relayed the information to the captain and settled in. "I miss my counterpart," he began. "We've had quite a lot of adventures since leaving the care of Captain Antilles."

"Oh, I love a good story." Mayva gave a small gasp and Threepio felt the engines come on. "Tell me in hyperspace."

All the nights. All the blood. All the promises and the seals and the sex. They lay in front of the altar in a broken heap.

Sam watched the apocalypse begin, the demons screaming skyward from the breaking of the final seal. The pull of the demonic blood mingled with his own drew him a step toward the altar. But the weariness of stopping the world from ending yet again brought him to his knees.

Ruby had never lied. She had told him up front she was devoted to Lucifer. And now was a very bad time to remember that.