"Lord...if you're there...give me some patience." Mary grumbled a prayer as she trudged up yet another grey dune, "If you give me strength I'm going to strangle your son."
Lucifer glanced over his shoulder at her, that stupid smirk plastered all over his scruffy face, "Ouch, I heard that. You wound me, Mary."
"Wish I could." She hissed back, rolling her eyes and resisting the urge to do something childish. Like stick her tongue out or throw pebbles at him. She lost her Enochian brass knuckles, so a good throat punch wasn't an option, nor were any other combative steps, but she couldn't just stand there and take his obnoxious presence either. He was just that frustrating to be around; she didn't think yelling or making more "mature" threats would affect him, but immature ones would mean sinking to his level. So she settled for trying to ignore him. That seemed to bother him more than anything else she said or did...he was such a brat.
Of course, she couldn't really ignore him all that well when he was screaming for her to get down and jumping in front of her to shield his captive companion from another angel attack. He kinda needed her, and maybe she kinda needed him too.