Buffy smiled a sweet smile that could only mean terrible things for Roxanne. She set her lips in a thin line looking from the woman to Ambrose, clearly already beyond annoyed. What the hell was she wearing, anyway? She looked like part of some deathmetal motorcycle cult.
"Of course. Thank you for informing my master about my teetering mental state. You know, never mind that there are demons and witches running around. Buffy's crazy. I get it." It was directed more at Roxanne than Ambrose. She hoped he didn't think she was losing her mind.
"But drinks, right? I'll try not to run into Lucifer's pet hamster on the way to the kitchen." She turned on her heel, her loose, blonde hair billowing behind her in an impressive display of indignant pride. Until she paused, remembering something.
"Do you even have alcohol here?" she asked Ambrose, not sure if he drank given the blood diet and all. "Master." She added as an afterthought.