Lena had been ready to offer to go downstairs when Peter gave her the coffee options. She shot him a glance, but unamused and thankful all at once, but as completely distracted when she found her arms full of French Bulldog. "Peter made us pancakes," she reminded her friend. "Isn't that thoughtful?" Sure it was no scones but the thought! It was what mattered.
She gently scratched the top of Quincey's head and barely managed to escape his attempts to lick her chin. "Want some Ki? How about you, honey?" She was already starting to pour another cup, waiting to see if it would end up going to her husband or her friend.