The cold nod was still far warmer than he might have expected, so he pours two mugs, one for her and one for him and held out one. She looked as tired as he feels, although she wears it a deal better than he did. That might be his age.

He took a drink of caf before he could formulate an answer, hot and black. "Still awake," he admitted blearily. He might have been better off if he'd never laid down to try. There had to be something available that could help, he'd think. He then realized his mind had wandered away from the conversation. "You?"

He didn't think she would answer, it was more a polite inquiry than anything.