Meg took the notebook from his hand and gave him a look when she saw that he had turned the tables. The concept of someone looking out for her was so far-fetched that her knee-jerk reaction was always to deflect his concern - he was really the only one who cared, and she wasn't even sure why. She glowered at him for a moment, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms... then sighed and rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her?

"I've been better, but to be fair I've also been a lot worse. This place gives me the creeps if I think about it for too long, but it's better than Crowley's idea of fun." She paused momentarily and swallowed, a wave of residual fear washing over her as she recalls a few of the more gruesome horrors of her past year downstairs. "I'm fine, now, I guess, but I've now had more polite conversations than I can count on one hand today and I'm sitting here talking about-" she wrinkled her nose "-feelings... so I guess I'd say I'm in somewhat of a state of shock. But... I'm glad you're here, if anything. Tell me something... why're you so sweet on me, Clarence?" She managed a small, but genuine smile.