"You are ... so, so different."

And not even just in the 'different from everyone else' sense, like they both had been before. Different from the Beetlejuice she'd expected when she first caught sight of those stripes. The fact that he'd actually called himself a demon, not a ghost, aside, it went deeper than that, too. She'd developed a very high-functioning bullshit radar from living with someone who made real estate deals for a living, and he wasn't putting out nearly as much as she'd expected - not even as much as Hades. When he said he was her friend ... something about the way he said it was genuine.

True, there were still bits about blackmail and torture that worried her, but ... Crowley had done those things. Mal regularly stole and teased and lied. Neither of them were awful people at the core, no matter how much they insisted they were. They genuinely cared about some people. Was it possible this quantum, not-ghostly Ghost With The Most was the same?

"Mmmm ... This is a lot to think about," she said, deadpan as she'd ever been, and fell in step behind whoever was in line. "We need ice cream."