She smiles! And Hange is generally thought of as a chatterbox, but as it happens she can shut up. She shuts up now, though the silence is companionable, from her end at least, and in some minutes they're coming into her rooms, that much more familiar for his last visit probably. Nothing has really changed. She gives him a push on the elbow towards one of the armchairs in the corner.

"Sit." She'll get clean-enough glasses and booze. Good quality bourbon with no fancy twists. Someday she'll have fun with frills, today is not that day.

Equal fingers for both of them, and Hange sits too, scraping sweat-wetted hair away from her forehead. It's warm in this corner; the coals in the woodstove are banked.

"I'm guessing you weren't distracted by super-good news?"