As she dug into the large utensil drawer, blindly and stupidly, she'd acknowledge later, she did not find the wine key - but did find the sharp edge of something which made her hiss and jerk her hand back. Not wanting James to tease her about her clumsiness, or worse, for either him or Adam to fuss, she ran it under cold water and tried to think of where the damn wine key could be as she watched the pink of her watered blood circle the drain. Once it had subsided sufficiently, some soft, familiar, exasperated voice whispered in the back of her mind, The dish device. Washer. The washer of dishes.
Sucking on her finger, Alex furrowed her brow. She never used the dishwasher. She rarely dirtied more than one dish at a time, and she was perfectly content to wash them by hand. Even so, something compelled her to pull the door open and...
There it was.
"Christ," she muttered to herself as she moved to fish it out of the little basket where it was wedged.