“I love tea as well as every English rose, but somehow it just doesn't wake me up like it used to.” She grinned a bit before she raised her cup of coffee in a salute and then took a long sip of it, savoring the slightly bitter taste of the old brew. The mug had been chilled and heated several times over the course of the evening, and now it was almost done, which of course meant that it was time to start actually working so that she could get out and find a decent cuppa. She laughed when he mentioned finally having a secretary. “Well, here's hoping he can figure out how to brew a decent pot of coffee and a decent pot of tea. I worry a bit about the issues of having him near us and scalding water.” When he mentioned a race she grinned a bit more. “Wow, there's food that doesn't come from a cup? I thought that was a myth that was perpetuated by the dark side in order to offer false hope.”
Truthfully, Wicca was a really good cook. She had to be with as awful as a cook as her father was. One can only go begging from the houselves so many times before she looked pathetic. Another chuckle and she picked up the nearest pile of parchment. “So, signing by hand or by magic?”