"Hello, handsome." Betty sat down on a surprisingly vacant seat and dropped her duffel bag on the ground next to her before she opened General Bartholameow's carrier and gave him his due regard, an affectionate scratch under his chin. She smiled, content with what sounded like a little purr in return, and closed the carrier back up, casting the Director a sidelong glance. "Fancy seeing you here," she greeted, knowing full well this was Fury's favorite bar. Betty had taken to it herself, ever since he'd first brought her. It seemed fitting that they'd bump into each other there, amidst all the chaos. "I'll have what he's having," she said to the bartender, jerking her head towards Nick. Once she got her drinks, she glanced around at all the people, enjoying the last small comforts of their liquor. At least they could, she thought, downing her scotch. The alcohol would give her no comfort, whether she had 2 or 20, but then, she didn't fear the world's imminent end. Turning back to Nick, Betty lifted her glass and tipped it toward Nick silently.