"Right, of course, standard procedure, makes sense." Dean had long thought that his life was completely fucked and always had been. Between Chuck treating them like puppets and all the fucked up shit they had been through he was starting to see that maybe, the grass wasn't always greener on the other side.
"Whiskey, yes, I almost forgot." he motioned for Alec to follow behind and he walked through the library and towards the war room where he had the glasses set out. His was at his usual place at the table, the head, and the one he had poured for Alec was to the left of that. "That one there is yours," he pointed to the glass and lifted his own to take a sip. "So, are you used to being on your own or is this going to be different for you?" Dean walked away after setting his glass down and grabbed a small pad of paper and a silver pen. "Here, you can write down your number so we can keep in touch."