Dean nodded, closing up the dossier on his desk now that the ink was dry. He pulled his whiskey to his lips and drained the rest in one sip. Next Friday; keep the weekend open, decline any invitations that came. He wouldn't mind a night or two of something low key. He had to hold out hope that Don Juan would show up.

Moving around to the front of his desk, Dean leaned back against it, the distance between them much closer, both figuratively and physically. There smudges of ink on his hands and he rubbed them off just for something to do with his hands. "What did you have in mind?" It would be nice to have something to look forward to. The weekend away in France was just going to be tedious. Much as he loved his mother, her side of the family could be a little... much. Mae would be in her element and he would just follow around on her metaphorical coattails so as to keep the conversation off of himself. He really wasn't in the mood for the questions he knew were coming; how's work going? When are you going to settle down? Any pretty ladies we should know about? He watched his older brother go through it the last time and he wasn't looking forward to having it aimed at him. It would be nice if he could bring Dempsey with him, but that felt like a stretch, and he didn't want them looking at him too closely either.