As he began to defend the peasantry of England and their not inbred genes, Joanie snickered, finishing off her fifth beer and calling for a sixth. The bartender handed it to her warily, glancing between her and Aiden before finally leaving. She took a sip before looking over at him.
His response was very delayed, though she didn't really notice it. Swirling her drink slightly, she laughed. "Yeah, but Ah've cut back a little since we got here. Ah'm being nice." She grinned, leaning against the bar. "It's hard. Ah know that people fake it all the time, but Ah just. Ah don't know." She shook her head. "Ah ran into - oh you'll love this - Ah ran into an old friend from South Carolina at Bellum. Yeah. She lives here now." She kicked the bar sharply. "And she is just. She is so nice, but it's fake. You know it's fake, but she is so good at makin' it look real. Ah just. Ah don't know how people do it."
She took a long swig of her beer. "That's why Ah like you, Aiden. You're an asshole, but. You aren't fake. That's real, you are a real asshole." She clapped him heavily on the shoulder. "That's somethin' to be proud of."