[h3] Dean and Anya [/h3]

Dean sat down at the table and he immediately delved into his sandwich, not really hearing anything else that was happening in the room, until Lexi asked his opinion about the plan for the day. Dean rattled the words that had been said around in his brain, picking out what he had actually heard that he could remember and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Since we’re at a bit of a halt on finding the Colt, we might want to prepare ourselves for whatever comes next.” Dean said simply, taking another bite as Lexi handed him his phone. He glanced at it, a bit of nervousness hitting his chest, sending his heart racing and then took it with his empty hand. He pressed the button on the side, to see if he had any texts, and then sat it face down on the table with a smile, “Thanks. I was a bit distracted and left it.”

“I wouldn’t mind learning some things, while we are kinda stuck here.” Anya’s phone chimed in, and Dean glanced up at her, seeing her with the phone in her hand. He smiled briefly, before taking another bite and nodding.

“I don’t see why not. I mean…I’m assuming you’ve handled a gun before, right?”

Anya nodded.

“Then you’re already on your way. The rest is learning how to defend yourself without the gun. You gotta learn how to take a hit…and you gotta learn how to keep your energy up. First things first, eat.” Dean ordered, and Anya pressed her lips tightly together, picking up her sandwich while looking at Dean. She took a bite and smiled, waving her sandwich a bit. “Good. Then, Lexi, being the other woman here…she can work on you. I would say work with Sam but judging by…looks of you, that ship has sailed. No need to add to the bruises.”

Anya blushed and looked down, before she typed a message and smirked, “Different kind of bruises, Dean.”

“Yeah yeah. Alright. Well, either way, it’s better for Lexi to help you with that. Then, sometime this evening, me and Lexi will comb the lines and you and Sam can go out and take care of that tattoo. You’re not leaving this bunker without it…other than to go get it.” Dean muttered before finishing off his sandwich with his eyebrows raised. Anya didn’t even complain about him being bossy. She could tell it was coming from a place of concern and care, not from malice, which from Dean, she would take as a win in her corner.

“A tattoo like Sam’s?” Anya typed, and Dean nodded, pulling down his t-shirt to show his own. “I’m fine with that! It’s not my first…”

“Well that’s good. Should be an easy trip…and before you type…” Dean held a hand up, and stopped Anya who was about to type something about where her other tattoos were, one he had already glimpsed on her thigh, “That’s between you and Sam.”

Dean glanced over at Lexi, communicating with his eyes that they weren’t being hard enough on the kids, and that Anya was winning the wit war. He was practically begging her for help.