He opened his eyes. Temporary existentional dread flashed through his mind, but then he realized where he was. Jaimie`s place. Her bed, to be correct. He shook his head. No thinking, he told himself, and he got up.

Jaimie was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. She turned at him as she heard him coming in, and smiled. It was a small smile. Casual as it could be. Nothing in it indicated anything about the last night. Of course that they had agreed that everything would be casual. She had her Scott guy and he had... well, noone, but still, nobody would know.

So that meant one night stands.

Multiple.

All with, ah, with the same person.

And, strictly theoretically speaking, there was nothing like a series of one night stands.

With the same person.

Dean almost grunted out loud. No thinking, he repeated to himself. No fucking thinking.

"Coffee?" she asked.

He looked at her. He should probably leave. He should probably leave mite fast. But there she was, in her underwear and a big blue shirt - oh, yeah, his shirt - and he would never refuse a good cup of coffee. He nodded.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she said cheerfuly and climbed on the bar beside him.

And then there was silence. He hated silence. It was always a bad thing, as far as he knew. The silence when you didn`t know what to say was a bad thing. The silence when a gun was pointed in your face was a bad thing. The silence that crawled at your back eventually when you were sitting in your appartment in the night, knowing that noone else would ever be there to fullfill it with you, now that was certainly a bad thing. He just hated silence, he couldn`t help it. That`s why it was always him who would break it.

"Jaimie, how do you feel about this?"

Dammit, his voice betrayed him. And she looked almost scared when their gazes met.

"About what?"

He scratched his neck.

"Ah, you know... About, well..."

"About screwing you?"

Sometimes she was so straightforward.

"Well, yeah."

She stared at him for a long, uncomfortable, silent moment.

"Well..." she said, "I don`t feel guilty. Or hurt. Or, I don`t know, used. Because that`s not what we agreed on, is it?"

He watched her cautiously. Was she angry? She did seem upset. Her eyes were gleaming. Later on he would think that maybe that hadn`t been because she was angry.

"Jaimie, I just-"

"We`re just pushing off steam, Dean, remember? Nothing more. None of us looks for complicated, so let`s let it stay that way. Just one night stand, and sometimes, maybe, a cup of coffee in the morning. Want some more?"

It was his turn to stare at her. She was so calm. Or, well, she acted calm and he knew there was something wrong and he couldn`t tell exactly what. Not now, that is.

And he knew, he thought, that there was a possibility of those morning cups of coffee turning into breakfasts and then lunches. And then two nights in a row. And at that point, it would become dangerous, but he was sure he would never let it come that far.

"Yes, please," he said.

It was just coffee, dammit.