Pulling on a pair of gloves, Vlad headed downstairs -- his coat was still hooked over one of the kitchen stools and summarily rescued, slipped over his shoulders -- and he paused only briefly, eyes catching the familiar splash of green against Stefan's neck.
Rather than commenting (it looked as though Stefan was already bracing himself for some kind of remark), he simply smiled, retrieving the house keys from the small ceramic bowl on the countertop.
"Ready to go?" Vlad asked, tossing the keys into the air and catching them again.