She feels a bit better, not being able to see her handiwork-- though he's not unmarked, she knows that. That's one part of living here Cameron hasn't adapted to-- waking up having done things you'd never do, living with actions you can neither deny nor take responsibility for.

Maybe she really is overtired, because she almost smiles back. Almost. She places the glass down a little too heavily, sparing a faint scowl at the thick clank.

"Yes, doctor," she sighs, with a minimal amount of venom in her tone. In fact, with a bit of fondness. She bit him; he'd have been well within his rights to leave her passed out on the kitchen floor. But of course, he never would. He didn't. She owes a little civility for that.

"How much did you give me, anyway?"