Hennessy would be utterly delighted to learn that she'd confused him so thoroughly. It would almost be worth letting him have a peek at the inside of her head to see what he'd make of that mess. It's possible that an entire decade of fragmented sleep has made her thoughts take on a similar state of loosely associated concepts that only sort their way toward some kind of sense while she's in the middle of speaking them.

She's more interested, though, in the way he seems to analyze people. Like he's above them all, or like he was never one of them to begin with. There's a theory. She decides to test it.

"Hang on, are you actually some kind of alien? Do they literally not have cookouts where you're from?"

She's aware he's not from the same Earth she is, but until this very moment it hasn't occurred to her that he might genuinely be from outer space. This is even more delightful than having managed to briefly bemuse him, and her entire demeanor brightens more than a bit at the possibility.