Word: Merry and Bright
Word Count: 100
Crowley tops off another wine glass with scotch. Three bright ice cubes bob to the surface. He takes a sip of the scotch. It doesn't burn anymore, just a warm, merry sort of bubbling.
The sensation fits the season, the stockings hung off dusty scrolls, the blazing fire, the mistletoe, the Castiel tied to the top of a particularly resilient little evergreen like a tree-toper, and the Winchesters, bundled up with twine and gagged with glittering tissue paper, under the tree.
Crowley raises his glass to the struggling trio. "To a Merry Christmas."
He takes their muffled insults as agreement.