"You seem to have an admirer, John." Gabriel mentioned quietly at the bar, when Constantine went to get another round.
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't notice, how much he worships you? Why else follow you around?"
"If you mean who I think you mean-"
"Be careful of that one. Balthazar is a very old soul and the only reason I used him was because he let me."
"He won't hurt me. He wouldn't dare try."
"Ah John, you self-centred fool, it's not you I'm concerned for. Do you really think Angela could hold her own against him, especially after that display? A demon's only as good as his reputation."
"Why the sudden concern with human affairs? And what do the cares of a demon mean to you, now you're fallible. Breakable. Poke-able." He poked her arm in an irritating way and smiled smugly.
"Impressive though the stories may be about you, I know you better. You seem to rise with each fall, but I do not mistake you for a Phoenix. You are but a man. A man that nearly got killed by dairy products."
"That was once!" he slammed his hand on the bar. "They didn't warn me those antidepressants make cheese toxic."
Gabriel laughed lightly, looking John up and down. "You humans, always trying to fix things that aren't broken. Learn to appreciate the damage, for God's sake!" She took a small coin in change from the bartender and fiddled with it, turning the copper over in her fingers. Angels, even former angels it appears, love copper. Manipulating it in such a simple way is a basic energy gathering and focusing rite. She looked up at John, and used the energy to See him, with an Angel's eyes. "To the elder ones, like myself, you're no more than a boy. In your case, Peter Pan, perhaps..."
Constantine snorted. "Don't judge a book by its cover."
"I know, I know, Young One, Son. You've yet to learn the lessons this lifetime has to offer. Your place in this community affords you some benefits. I wonder why Angela hasn't asked after your appearance?"
"What do you mean?"
"Some occultists," she looked at him accusingly, "seek to defy the ageing process, by drawing on the residual ether of the living. Somewhat vampiric, wouldn't you agree?"
"Says the one with the worryingly crimson drink."
"This?" Nails chimed against glass. "Oh, strawberry squash." She narrowed keen hawk-like eyes as Constantine laughed at her, head thrown back and neck stupidly exposed.
"That's just precious!"
"You know some angels prefer to abstain from alcohol, drugs-"
"-Fun?"
"Strawberries are like the taste of Heaven to me, John. You can't mock me for wanting that sweet flavour again." Gabriel sauntered off to a different table on the other side of the room, behind a partition, leaving Constantine with the impression he'd hit a raw, exposed nerve.
Looking over at Angela's reassuringly human anxiety around so many supernatural creatures, he pushed it from his mind and returned to her, triumphantly presenting new drinks.
"Welcome to my world" he began, standing with hands perched on the table edge. "Lesson one" he signed the number "of bar etiquette: don't stare. Some of these guys have claws and a taste for eye goo."