Michael

Michael sped up a little to keep up with Balthazar, trudging through the sand as fast as he could. Sand was not one of his favourite things. The question didn't strike him as all that odd. Given that Balthazar didn't disbelieve him or go on guard, Michael took it for granted that the other somehow had contact with Heaven or the other.

That quiet suspicion was planted though. If Balthazar didn't watch his step, he would end up on the bad end of an angel's anger and fire.

Michael stood back some as Balthazar pulled out the tray and tie. The confusion on his face made clear that he had no idea to do with the two things that the demon offered him. Again there was that nose wriggle and sniff of the other. A frown made its way to his face finally. Balthazar might need to use that slick tongue of his in talking soon.

The change at the mention of losing his collar and cuffs was immediate and perhaps surprising. He backed a step away and glanced down at the sand, hands twisting over the cuff on the opposite wrist. A dark look came to his face as he slowly unsnapped the ones on each wrist, setting the reluctantly on the bartop. Instead each stop of leather was a profusion of angelic phrases that detailed restrain and peace. His collar he left on.

"I can't. Not that one. I can't."

Michael shook his head and refused still to meet Balthazar's eyes. Instead, he merely retreated another step. Whatever it was about that simple strap of leather, it was important to him.