Airport.
Dean held a temporary sign, leaning against his car and smoking. His eyes occasionally met those of single women drawn to his good looks. Less than half an hour later, he had already collected nearly twenty slips of paper and business cards in his pocket.
Due to the weather, the flights were somewhat delayed. But judging by the time, they should have already arrived. Dean gathered his Spirit, watching the emerging crowd. These two bastards had been roaming abroad and hadn't returned for nearly three or four years. Consequently, Dean's memory of them had grown somewhat vague.
