Dean sighed, mocking his brother lightly as he walked down the steps slowly.  He stopped, just shy of the table and tapped his hand lightly against it, “I have you know that there is water in alcohol, and I happen to remember someone leaving the bunker yesterday, for a run.  So, mind your business.”

His eyes landed on Lexi, finally, raising his chin to look down at her.  He took in her features, and scanned over her hair, the painful knot in his stomach rearing its head again as he had a stray thought of how pretty she looked.  He closed his eyes and shook his head, before opening his eyes with a small forced smile, “Hi Lexi.”

Stepping back from the table, Dean brought a hand to rest over his stomach as the overwhelming panic knot planted itself firmly, and he was reminded of the alcohol he so desperately needed.  He started his trek to the kitchen, again, and rolled his eyes at Sam’s comment about his clothes, knowing exactly where his brother was about to go with his sentence, before he broke it off.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sam.  Why would I change?  I hate doing laundry.”, he called over his shoulder sarcastically.  He stepped into the kitchen, and instantly made his way over to the island, where the various bottles of alcohol were neatly stored along the shelves underneath.  Spotting yet another bottle of whiskey, he picked it up and cradled it to his chest, before grabbing a coffee mug.

Hanging the coffee mug off one finger, he stepped back toward the war room, strolling across quickly and back up the small flight of stairs to the office area, “What are you guys working on, anyway?  I’ve never known you to bring home women.  Not that I’m complaining.  Have fun while you can, and all that.  But is she a hunter?”