Jo returns his contritely stubborn smile with a reassuring one of her own and shrugs slightly, “Hey, I'm not going to tell you what to do. I mean, it's your thing, you'll handle it. I'm just saying if you want to tell anyone about it, you know, do that.” She laughs and rolls her eyes a little at her own lack of eloquence. It's not that she's not worried about what happened to Sam back at the warehouse, hell, the range of concerns currently runs from 'Gordon was just crazy and that was a ritual that gathered enough power to start a slow brain hemorrhage' to 'you are going to snap any second and throw me through a window' but any way you look at it until Sam does start trying to throw her through windows or whatever it's...kind of Sam's thing. He seems like a smart guy, he'll do whatever he's going to do about it and all some chick he's known less than a week getting on his case about it would accomplish would probably be to get his back up. Hell, I can sympathize, if anyone tells me the sky is blue I'm planning on deciding it's orange for at least the next week. Fucking Gordon.
He yawns then and Jo raises her eyebrows, “Yeah, much as you sound like you should go back to sleep I think your dad's probably going to be pissed if he comes back in here and you're sacked out again. Uh, you need help getting your stuff together or anything?” she asks before remembering her hands and smirking slightly, “...and by help I pretty much mean moral support and gesturing vaguely at things you missed.”