Jo turns for the door, meaning to go find a bottle and a set of cups in the kitchen or the dinning room, before it catches up with her a second later. Her mouth presses, and she looks instead at her dresser. It's not habit here, but like Nadine's chair, she stares at the top of the dresser and thinks up the bottle and label of one of her favorite whiskeys.

It appears alongside two short glasses,
and she makes an uncertain noise at the back of her throat.

"I don't know how long it might take to get used to that."
It feels weird. It feels like cheating. Like everything Jo fights against.

But it's not hurting anyone. It's not harmful on any level. It's a weird little perk of this weird shared mental space. Jo pours the two glasses, only a finger for each, and then holds one out to Nadine. "I should have asked. Maybe you want to change it to something else? I know how to make softer drinks, most anything, but I usually stick to the basics when it's just me on my own."