[h3] Dean and Anya [/h3]

Dean watched Sam closely, as he sat Anya’s coffee down and made sure to get the pills she had mentioned ready for her to take. Dean had never thought he would see Sam take to someone again, after Anna and the situation in Denver. Seeing him take care of Anya was a welcome change, even if he had a feeling that some hard conversations were coming up, if they hadn’t already happened, between Sam and Anna. It all needed to be settled, so they could both move on.

As Anya stepped over to the mug and the pills, Dean watched as she picked up both pills and tossed them into her mouth, before taking a long sip of coffee, making a face that Dean couldn’t quite read. Either the coffee was bad or the pills were quick melting, which meant that at least she would feel better faster.

Clearing his throat, he took a sip of his own coffee and sighed with relief as Sam confirmed that he had slept well and at least seemed to be telling the truth about how he was feeling. Any other time, Sam would kill himself before he would admit he was feeling badly, but he really did seem okay, probably because Anya was so determined to be tough. It wasn’t as if she would allow Sam to be too down and out about her condition. She wanted to be treated normally.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that at least…” He grumbled, taking a deep breath before Lexi showed up and cut Sam off before Dean could even make his own comment about the cooking and ‘maid’ work. It was almost as if he had read Lexi’s mind. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how flustered Sam seemed. “Don’t have a stroke. She likes cooking. You like cooking…right?”

Anya pulled her phone up, placing her coffee on the table, and rolled her eyes while typing. She then played the message and pointed it toward Lexi, with a look of solidarity, “A bunch of women come into the building, and now they expect us to cook and clean, like there’s skirt work.”

“I didn’t say that. I did not…Sam? You started this.” Dean groaned, shaking his head and glancing up at Sam as Anya smirked teasingly at Lexi, proud of herself for making Dean stammer a bit. Dean turned his eyes back to Anya and pointed, “Me and Sam could easily clean the bunker and cook the food today, if you want me to prove a point.”

“Cook?” Anya typed, raising her eyebrows.

“Alright. Order takeout. But it’s food, right? Food is food. And someone needs to wake Nat up, at some point. I don’t know what she even allows herself to eat anymore. We used to have so much in common.” Dean defended, causing Anya to giggle silently, but then she typed again.

“Calm down. Don’t have a stroke.” Anya echoed Dean, causing his face to fall flat and his eyes to turn up to Sam in annoyance.

“You brought her home.” He grumbled dramatically.