It looked...well, more or less like any other bar he'd been in, really, not that there was a lot to compare to. He was almost disappointed—part of him had expected some sort of lavish magical decor, something that would be impossible without the aid of a hundred magicians, not that he was even sure what that would look like now that he considered it more closely. Some of the patrons seemed a bit odd to his eye, but he couldn't tell exactly what gave him that feeling, so it hardly meant anything.
There was Amp, sitting at a table by herself, wearing that same coat and looking down into a cup with steam coming out of it. Or pointing her face down toward it, anyway. Dean looked around in case anyone was watching him, realized he'd done this and just suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at himself, and slid into the seat next to her.
"Great," she said, in that flat tone that made him wonder if she was being sarcastic until she followed it up with, "I was wondering when you were going to show up. I've been in here most nights since that thing and it's getting kind of exhausting. I like these guys but not enough to see them every day, you know?" Then a short laugh. He was slightly surprised to realize he'd missed her.
"Sorry," he said, "work's been...work. And I don't get out much, anyway."
"I know. Did you bring your roommate? He sounded like an interesting guy."
"He wouldn't approve of this sort of thing," he said, in a mocking approximation of Piotr's voice. "We are above common mortals and ought not to mingle with them, lest we sully our minds."
"So not such an interesting guy, then," Amp said. "Guess I can't be right all the time."