Joe hadn't been eavesdropping, not really, mostly because the stairs were far enough away from the couch that he could only hear the cadence of voices, not the actual words, even in the quiet and still of that hour of night. So he sat, just leaning against the stair railing, watching quietly.

He'd woken a while before, hit with the sinking realization that it was too cold and too quiet in the bed to be their new usual pile of bodies, so he'd given Andy a kiss on the temple, promised -sleepily- to be back soon and that she should go back to sleep.

But when the afghan was picked up off the back of the couch he rolled to his feet, clearing his throat and stretching, "Alright c'mon, actual bed for that, otherwise you're both going to wake up stiff and I can't carry both of you."