Crowley couldn't know it, but today he was getting a glimpse of what Ellie was like back home, where things like laughter and idle chatter among friends were neither often called for nor particularly safe.

She smiled half-heartedly, tucking her feet up under her and folding her hands in her lap. Striking a vulnerable pose in a situation like this was the habit of long experience, but it wasn't entirely an act. The possibility of rejection--the real thing, not prompted by moral or spiritual concerns--wasn't one she'd often had to face. She didn't have to be in love with him to care what he thought or be subject to getting hurt; empathy was a necessary part of her job (and arguably, one of the curses that came with it.)