He might have flinched in pain if he were anyone else, but John Constantine had seen his fair share of it. Enough to roll with it when he felt the ache of her jumping on weary shoulders. The urge to cough again though, that he had a harder time fighting. He chased it away with a shot before actually glancing at her where she'd sat beside him.
This version of Harley was a little better put together than the one he'd met, had seemed to come into her own after ditching the clown. It was a good look on her--independence. He didn't patronize her by telling her that.
"Pretty sure there are few blokes who wouldn't mind a surprise like you," Constantine assured her with a slight uptick of the corner of his mouth. He was in pain, but hiding it. "What do you drink?"