Lucy doesn't expect her soul to be light. She drinks too much and has too much sex (without being married) for one. Of course, her Baptist upbringing and Castiel don't have the same definition of good and evil. She likes his definition better.

She would grab onto his shoulders or neck if she started to slip, but she likes his hands on her regardless. There's nothing wrong with leftovers, but food is part of Lucy's love language and she doesn't want him to feel like she's slighting him by not making something especially for him. She shakes her head at his question. "I just want you to get something you like," she assures him. She laughs at the way his stomach growls. "I guess mac and cheese it is," she declares and slips out of his lap, heels clicking on the hardwood floor.

"I'll be right back," she promises him then pauses and tilts her head at him. "Or you can come to the kitchen with me. We'll raid the fridge and eat back there."