When I emerged sometime later, now fully dressed, the living room was eerily cleaner than usual and I could smell the distinct aroma of coffee wafting through the kitchen. Ethan was sipping a cup of coffee from my I Love Lucy mug, and he smiled when he saw me.

“I hope you don’t mind…” he started.

“Are you kidding? Give me some!” I said, grabbing a Farrah Fawcett mug and filling it full.

“Full grade Arabica, wow, you don’t cheap out on coffee,” he said taking a big gulp.

“Yeah,” I laughed, “Don’t tell anyone though, the people at the local diners might feel a little bad if they knew I was going behind their backs.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s nothing like diner coffee,” Ethan agreed, “Have you ever noticed that it tastes like cheap hotel soap?”

“You too?” My eyes brightened up a little bit, feeling the tingle of the caffiene buzzing in the back of my eye sockets. We laughed for a moment, in between sips of coffee.

“Don’t you have to work or something?” I asked.

“Day off.”

“Good,” I smiled.