Christmas with the family had come and gone, a typical Hatchitt affair of loud talking, drinking, kids running around and nearly knocking over the tree, nothing at all out of the ordinary. Everything Jesse looked forward to and expected. It still left him exhausted and he was still a little grumpy that he hadn't heard anything from Fallon. Gabe had been mysteriously absent most of the day as well, only turning up to collect Molly and the sleeping gremlins from his mother's house shortly before Jess had left himself. He hadn't even had the energy to try and ask his brother any information about it. A few whiskeys in and lots of running around after his nieces and nephews had Jess every kind of tired there was.

So, he'd gone home and crashed hard. He was oblivious to any company Kirke might have, though knew she existed, but it was none of his business. They had an unspoken agreement just to let things exist as they were and leave it at that. They were all far over the line of propriety, so it wasn't like they would willingly say anything anyway.

The whiskey-induced sleep left him out cold, so he didn't hear the knock at the door or the whispered greeting. Belatedly he registered the voice, but thought he was dreaming. It wasn't unusual for him to dream of Fallon, though it ranged from some very vivid, incredibly frustrating visions to downright nightmares of whatever it was she'd gotten herself entangled in. He certainly wasn't lucid enough to do much more than grunt in response and roll over.