Dean supposed that unless one had been caught in the storm itself, it would have been nothing to worry about. A time loop though, Dean had heard about the day repeating itself through the grapevine at work, but didn't exactly remember anything himself. He'd been too busy arguing in Egypt about documents between the bank to cover someone's ass that wasn't his own. It had all worked out in the end, but it had been a tense few days. Fortunately he had a few favorite haunts in Cairo that he could seek comfort in for a night or two.

He was much more interested in teaching Lestrange about the finer points of whiskey tasting. "Alright, there's a few steps. Don't think me a snob for this, I just enjoy the process." Dean laughed, thoroughly unphased by any conclusions Lestrange could come to, but felt the need to preface anyway. "You smell the aroma, give it a swirl and take a sip. Let it sit on your tongue for a minute." Dean did this himself, though he was deeply familiar with the taste. "Thoughts?" They could go do it in small chunks, but he wanted to know if Lestrange got the hints of fruity at the front and the spice behind it before they opened it up tried it again.