The hand at her back was nice, like a reward - an echo of their night together. She flashed a genuine smile, and nodded once - message received. Annie and Max played off one another so naturally, Jasmine could see why the kid's mom trusted him to take care of Annie in a place like New Orleans.
"Exactly. Common sense, more or less." She could have laughed. Two people who barely knew one another after five years and suddenly he was asking her for advice. Maybe they weren't friends, exactly, but Jasmine saw no reason they couldn't be friendly. "It's shifter related, right? Maybe knowing you're struggling can help her feel like there's more common ground there between you two." Annie appeared to have found the shop, and had both hands pressed to the glass to look inside, churro hanging out of her mouth like a cartoonishly over-sized cigar. "Better finish that before we go in, Banana the Spy."
Annie rolled her eyes again. "Duh? S'why I'm still out here."
"Ah, of course." Jasmine tutted herself, lightly tapping her forehead with the palm of her hand. She looked back at Max, as if to say what a foolish thing, am I! and found him looking her in the eyes with the strangest expression. "You okay, there, Kelly?" Maybe it was the talk about kids and shit, but Jasmine's instinct was to press the back of her hand to Max's cheek, feeling for a fever. His forehead was next, and then she brushed stray hairs back and flashed that lopsided smile. "No fever, and it's been too long since zombie for hallucinations... Must be something on my face, then." She poked her facial scars one by one, grinning. "Nope, nothing new, there, either."