Derek looks far too cheerful for this time of the morning and, for a startling second, I'm reminded of Jack. Though Jack never really smiled before the morning checking practices; he was more... authoritatively resigned. But still always much, much more awake than I ever was.

Grumbling a hello, I duck into the bathroom for a second to pee and cringe again when I see the actual state of my hair in the mirror. With wet hands this time, I try to tame the more annoying cowlicks before giving up and joining Derek in the kitchen.

"So it is manual labor," I reply, dropping into the seat across from him. My stomach grumbles at the mere sight of the eggs and bacon and I waste no time in grabbing my fork and digging in. "You're trying to bribe me right now, I get it." I'm joking, of course. There's absolutely nothing Derek couldn't do on his own when it comes to lifting and carrying things. And, even if he did need an extra pair of hands, it's not likely he'd pick me for it. I like to think that I'm pretty strong -- I mean, I am an athlete -- but most other people just see me as small and slight and leave it there.