There was something to be said about stability. Dean would have lived the life of a vagrant, wandering from city to city, working odd jobs, if he could give up his current lifestyle. He was far too accustomed to a comfortable place to sleep and good booze, to give up his cushy ministry job. Clearly Lestrange understood that. "Understandable. Still begs a good what if," he shook his head, chuckling. "Expectations are miserable." He  had few to answer to, not like Lestrange on more than one front, but he thought he could still get the idea. "Which is why we drink and enjoy the little things in our private lives." Good booze, good company, little rebellions that didn't hurt anyone or anything in the long run.