"That's right," Derek says with a laugh, pulling on his jacket after slipping out of the booth. He sets the glasses onto the bar to clean tomorrow, and then goes around to start flipping off the lights.

Once they're out into the cold, Derek locks up and slips his keys into his pocket. They aren't too far from Dimera, and they walk along in relative silence. The air is still and almost silent, and Derek is glad when they make it to his apartment.

"I have some sliced up tri-tip in the fridge," Derek says as he pulls his jacket off and hangs it up. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll make us some sandwiches."