Dean shook his head, then nodded, at the mention of tea. “Yeah! I get that! All the British people I know are obsessed with tea. Picture the scene. Your whole family has been wiped out. All your friends also died in the same accident. Your house has burned down. You find out you’re terminally ill. But hey…have a cup of tea. You’ll feel better. Only one girl I know from Britain hates the stuff…so she’s totally cool as far as I’m concerned!”
He nodded furiously when she talked about the Council. “Best thing you could have done! You’d likely be monster chow by now if you hadn’t. It’s all that tea. Mushes up their brains! They whined at me and said I should be wearing suits all the time. Like it matters. I’d fancy my chances much better with a vamp or whatever if I was in jeans and steel-toecapped boots than some poncy loafers and a Saville Row suit. So, according to them, I’m a loose cannon. Don’t give a shit though. My job is to keep my Slayer breathing and to hell with them.”
He tagged along behind her like a puppy when they left the building, nose beginning to twitch when they neared the diner. “Oh god yeah, this looks good...” he replied when they reached it. In the window there were pictures of burgers and fries and Dean was nearly tripping over his own feet to get inside.