[h3] Anya [/h3]

Anya laughed at Sam’s response to her joke, realizing that they both had a very similar sense of humor that was begging for unspoken language…her favorite. For a while, as they waited for Dean and Lexi to get back, Anya simply buzzed around the kitchen, cleaning up the mess and making sure that there were plates ready. As the distant sound of the upstairs door opening caught her ear, she listened closely for the voice that followed, a bit nervous for Dean to walk in.

But when Lexi’s voice rang out, Anya smirked as Sam called back to her. She couldn’t wait for Dean to see all the food, but she was still a bit nervous. She stepped over to the fridge and pulled a beer for Dean, standing next to Sam with it in her hand, an invitation of civility.

[h3] Dean [/h3]

Dean tilted his head as Lexi said that Sam might have just been reading up on leads all night. She wasn’t wrong. Sam would stay up until the early hours of the morning combing lore if he needed to find something to finish a case. This case was a little less like their normal ones, but if Sam cared about this girl at all, he was probably obsessing over it.

He stepped out of the car and closed the door, scratching the back of his head as he followed Lexi toward the doorway. They could unpack the car later on, or just bring some more crap out to throw in the trunk. As they stepped through the doorway, the smell of meat and butter hit Dean’s nose, and he raised his eyebrows. It smelled heavenly and he was starving. As Lexi called out for Sam, Dean combed the bookshelves, trying to find any sign of his brother, only to hear his voice from the kitchen.

“Well…that doesn’t make me feel any better.” Dean answered Lexi, her smile piercing through his brain. He couldn’t get enough of seeing it, especially when it had mischief behind it. He sighed, and reached out, pinching her chin with a chuckle. “Fine. If there’s food, I’m at least good until I’m full.”

With that, he stepped away from her and led the way down the stairs. He made his way quickly across the war room and stepped into the kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway as his eyes fell on Anya, standing sweetly with a beer in her hand. Dean glanced up at Sam, a slight look of distrust on his face. He scanned his brother’s face and glanced past them both to the food, “Did you do all this? This is what you’ve been doing since we’ve been gone?”

Anya nodded, not having her phone in her hand to explain further. Dean sighed, and stepped toward her, taking the beer from her hand. “You know what? Bring me a plate and we can…talk, all of us. It looks and smells great.”

Anya smiled up at him as he complimented her cooking. She quickly turned on the ball of her right foot and grabbed a plate, beginning to load it up with food for Dean.

“What is it with you bringing home girls that can cook? You know that if you feed me…I can’t kick them out.” Dean said to Sam, his face serious but pained, as if he was trying to find any way to complain about the situation.