Dean's conversation with Seamus had gotten him thinking. Generally his luck at bars was complete shite, and clubs were even worse, but Seamus was right - it had been a long bloody time - and seeing the flyers today, and filing the final papers... it had all just seemed so solid and final.
And it really made him feel like he needed to get the hell out and have some fun.
He hadn't really found fun at the club, though. He was nursing his second drink slowly, trying to politely get a middle aged woman who was far too large for her lycra off of his trail, when the commotion started and he saw the bouncers headed for a table. For a second, he imagined that the boy there looked really damned familiar....