The kitchen of 42 Blueberry Hill, Friday, late morning

[givemethehunt]

Dean was perched on the edge of the breakfast counter in a t-shirt and jeans, looking over a couple of pieces of paper. One was detailed instructions for using a fancy coffee maker. One was a recipe for pancakes

Comments

[dark_innocence]

Lana wandered sleepily downstairs. "Hey," she said with a smile. "You should have woke me up. I never sleep this late."

[givemethehunt]

"Dude, you needed sleep," Dean pointed out. He grimaced as he realized what him not being there might have looked like to her. "I was gonna bring you pancakes . . . just as soon as they weren't cajun pancakes,"

[dark_innocence]

"Should I go back to bed?" she asked with a smile, clearly pleased that he'd thought of doing that for her.

[givemethehunt]

"Well, that depends." He grinned. "Are you still tired?"

[inshiningarmour]

Oh look! A floating pancake.

[givemethehunt]

Oh look, iron knife flying through the air at the space just above the floating pancake.

[inshiningarmour]

"Bloody hell!" Thelma said, dropping the pancake in surprise.

[givemethehunt]

The knife caught in the edge of the cabinet, and Dean was going for the salt.

"Whatever you are, you picked the wrong freaking house to mess with,"