Dean savored her blushing as he pulled back from her with a smile.  He then looked toward the living room, “And no Irish coffee!  Come get you some protein.”

He was calling out to Bobby, who he knew would simply tell him to go to hell.  He wanted to make sure Bobby was taking care of himself, now that Dean was around for a bit.  The man barely slept, and he could only imagine how he had treated himself with the secrets and everything.  Taking a long drink from his coffee, he reached carefully over Mika’s shoulder and grabbed a plate, walking it back over to the bar he had been standing at.

Bobby’s tables were practically unusable and dinner often had to be eaten either in a window or on a kitchen counter.  Dean was used to this, and honestly was relieved to be allowed to eat in peace at all.  He hoisted himself onto the counter, and grabbed his sandwich, taking a huge bite of it and smiling over at Mika.

“Mm…This is delicious…”, he murmured with a full mouth, his eyes completely lit up with relief.  He chewed long enough to be able to speak clearly, and then spoke up again, “So, Bobby, have you found any cases lately, or are you on some kind of extended vacation?  What needs to be done around here, if we ain’t working?”