"The standard excuses," Pierce muttered in amusement as he flipped the sandwich with a spatula. Glancing back up at his enthralled guest, he pursed in order lips to fight a smile. "You'll be visiting the beach a lot, I gather?" he asked airily, despite knowing that she probably wouldn't - at least not without it being dark outside.
He joined her at the table, setting down the offerings - the grilled cheese midnight snack and, as promised, a cup full of ice. "You're going to eat that," he said, nodding toward the actual food. "And it will digest and I'm not letting you leave until it does." It was his usual no nonsense demeanor. "And don't even think about throwing it up. You're not bulimic on my watch, young lady."