By the time Athena gets Jeff into the kitchen, coffee had already been brewed and a one cup was set beside it. Another sat on the far side of the stove, the packet of hot chocolate tucked inside, kettle already heated once or twice and ready to pour out once she was ready for it. He'd even pour a little coffee in it to make it properly worth her while. She wasn't eight, after all.

Standing against the open back door that connected to a screened in porch, Raylan held his own steaming cup of irish coffee. They didn't need to know about the irish part. He'd hate to paint himself an alcoholic. It was under control. He looked over as they came in, unsure if he should hide the fact that he heard the last end of the conversation or not.

"Coffee's made, kettle is hot. Me casa e su casa."