Even if Cath hadn't invited her, Maeve would have shown up anyway. She was not going to be left out again. Still, as she was not much of a planner, it'd been a bit of a task to figure out what she could do to be useful. So she had made coffee and tea. Cathair's she'd served first to put a nice slug of whiskey in as well. They were going to need the fortitude.
She had settled in a chair, holding a cup of hot, steaming tea in her hands. The gun hidden underneath her longish t-shirt was digging into her back but she was used to that and ignored it easily. Tapping an index finger on the rim of her cup, she chewed her bottom lip in a nervous sort of way. Planning things with people she didn't know... There as Cathair's wife and who knew what their opinions of her would be. Too young, too inexperienced. Little did they know.
"Are they slow enough," she asked into her cup before taking a sip of tea which she had made to be ridiculously strong. If someone didn't like it, they could just not drink it. She liked it when her tea had a knockout punch to it.