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[weaponsgrade]

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[weaponsgrade]

Oh. [He makes a face in sudden realization: lips thinned, brows drawn together. Of course. Can't have a conversation like this without something interrupting.] I remember that now.

[A pause, then wryly:] Would you like iced coffee?

[intohell]

[It's them, of course, they can't. But the important part was said and understood in return so even if they don't finish this, they're good.]

I think you'll have to melt it for iced coffee. Right now it's a frozen pop.

[Especially if he still had a spoon in it.]

[weaponsgrade]

[He could melt it, but instead he tilts the mug toward himself, shakes his head, and starts laughing.

This is probably not the direction she anticipated this conversation going, but... Well... Coffee popsicle?]