A yellow cab drove down an empty, dark lane. No one was talking on the streets, there weren't any other cars. The wind was freezing and, clear, heavy rain was pouring down from the sky. Like heavens were crying, Chas thought. And, on the back seat, sat stood a well dressed, tired looking man, staring outside the window with the coldest gaze. A lighted cigarette hanged from the corner of his mouth. Outside there was no sound but the raindrops on the rough tops. On the other hand, the inside was rather noisy.

- So? - Chas repeated once more, ignoring the fact John clearly heard him. Just didn't want to answer.

- So what? - The man finally sighed, giving up, assuming that answering the question would save him from his suffering.

- Why won't you take me to Midnight's with you? - His voice sounded too childish. More than he intended.

- Because - John said, sarcastic as always. - it is a dangerous place. Full of nasty people.

- Papa Midnight isn't nasty. He is exemplary. Besides that, I can take care of myself. Once, I read, not sure where, that they only show those silly cards according to the person's… - The boy suddenly interrupted himself with a cough and turned around on the seat a quick moment to face Constantine. - Would you please put that shit down while you're inside the car? It smells like pot. If any client of mine complain my car smells like pot, I'll get into trouble. They may fire me, who will drive you then? What's so good about it, anyway?

- See, that's why I won't take you to Midnight's. I already feel like I have to kill you, and I'm not even a demon. - John answered, not taking his eyes out of the extremely interesting nothing he was staring at.

- You could at least be polite and offer me one.

- Why? You don't smoke. - The exorcist chuckled lowly, like smoker Chas was the funniest joke. Well, it was. John couldn't help but picturing the boy in white shirt and black tie, kicking some demon butt, just like himself.

- Says who? I could. - Chas really didn't care about smoking at all, he just didn't wanted to look like a geek or something in front of John.

- All right, I'm terribly sorry. Would you accept a death stick, Mr. Kramer? - John shifted on the back seat and gracefully handed him his own cigarette. Course. Constantine wouldn't waste his pack with his driver, right?

- Thank you, Constantine. I appreciate. - Chas, reluctant, took the stick between his index and middle finger and accommodated it in his lips.

John watched it silently, an amused expression crossed his face. He analyzed - and somehow enjoyed - the boys pink, soft lips closing around the cigarette. It would be a bit awkward if Chas was looking at him, because John was really almost licking his own lips. Grabbing shakily the steering wheel, Chas inhaled deeply. Before he could feel the smoke entering his lungs, he felt something different tickling his stomach and it had nothing to do with smoke. He was being merciless tickled by the realization that his lips were where John's was just a second ago. He did know it was silly and stupid, but he couldn't help blushing and coughing. Yeah, maybe the smoke took part in that last reaction.

- Hey, take it easy, kid! - John laughed and took the cigarette out of the boy's lips. - We don't want you to crash the cab, right?

- Like there was anything onto in here. I've never seen such an empty street… - The teen mumbled, after caching his breath. He didn't dare looking at John, red as he knew he was. - That thing is awful, you know?

- Glad you think that. - He commented as ending the conversation. As he still had hope Chas would shut up for a second.. He was glad, indeed. - Stop here.

- Can't. Nowhere to park. - Chas nodded, looking around.

- It's okay, just drop me here and drive anywhere you like.

- Shush, I'm coming with you. - Finally finding a place a big car wouldn't fit, the teen stopped the car carefully and waited a bit. He was, somehow, waiting for John to hold him back. He knew the man didn't want him to be there. He would only be a burden.

But, instead, the man just chook his head and exited the car, walking slowly down the side walk. The rain made small noises against his black jacket, soaking his hair. Chas followed him, confused, but happy. Maybe…

- You know I won't let you get in with me, right? Nor will the security. - John blew a bunch of smoke in the cold breeze along with his words before putting the cigarette down, wet ashes falling behind him.

- I do. You said I could get in if I could get in, right?

Constantine nodded and stared at the boy. A hopeful smile on Chas's face worried him. The teen's face was a bit flushed due to the cold and four or five rain drops hanged from his shaggy hair. Well, he did know Chas wouldn't try to repeat what he said again, he knew it wouldn't work. But maybe… A good guess? No, it wasn't possible.

- Yeah… - The exorcist mumbled. - You can get in if you can get in.