Dean smiled and pulled her with him as he sat up.  He let go of her to give her room to stretch and stretched his own arms above his head as he walked, ignoring Bobby’s grumbles about putting on clothes.  Dean had barely realized he was still waltzing around Bobby’s house in his underwear.

“It’s my house too, right now, Bobby!”, he called playfully over his shoulder as he stepped into the kitchen behind Mika.  He poured himself a cup of coffee and turned to join her, sitting carefully at the table in front of her while cracking his neck.

“So, how you feeling this morning?”, he asked her intently, taking a long drink of coffee.  His eyes were slightly blackened from the night before, mostly from the broken nose he had sustained at the bar, “You seemed to sleep pretty good.  I woke up exactly the same as we went to sleep, which means you didn’t even roll over.”

He took another drink of his coffee, as Bobby stepped over and threw a newspaper in front of him, tapping it with his fingers.

“Here’s where you’re going.  I trust you can handle it?”, Bobby muttered, shoving the news paper toward Mika as Dean shrugged.