The events of the past week had been a trial by fire. It didn't leave Joan with any option other than to accept that Lucifer, demons and other such monsters were real here and that there was an Apocalypse. Yes, she'd taken what Svetlana had said and gone with it, but she hadn't actually believed it was all real until, well, it started happening. Given her issues with getting involved with medical things again, Joan had opted for a more background type of approach. When the complex had begun to be attacked, she was one of the people who would grab the wounded and help them get into the medbay. That was as close to being a doctor as she would allow herself to get.
Now, the week of hell aside, there were other things that Joan had just accepted as being truths. One of which being that John Watson was another version of herself. Which probably should have bothered her, but she found it didn't upset her. Nor did the fact the Sherlock that was here was a different version. Despite the fact she liked sticking to a set schedule, Joan was realizing she was surprisingly flexible in adjusting to this place. She was not without her reservations and hitches in adjusting, but all things considered, she was still sane (as far as she could tell), so there was something to be said for that.
With Sherlock inviting people over for dinner, Joan had been been surprised and reserved. After all, the man was going to be cooking. Perhaps she shouldn't be as wary of Sherlock's abilities in these matters, but given the fact the Sherlock she knew didn't always eat when he should, and she hadn't actually seen him do any amount of cooking, she was more than wary. Which was why she was in the kitchen and ensuring Sherlock got things started without setting a fire. She didn't give him any guidance, she just observed and grabbed some things for him if he needed them. Otherwise once she was fairly certain he'd begun the cooking process without setting something on fire, Joan went out into the living room where John was.
"So far, nothing is on fire." Taking a seat, she kept herself alert for any sign of distress from the kitchen. In the meantime, she would visit with John. She glanced at the goat, which was really an odd pet, but she wasn't about to question it unless it proved detrimental to things.
Now, Joan wasn't always one for small talk. She didn't exactly keep close connections to people, not since her drastic life change. But she was intrigued by John and she might as well get to know him a bit, perhaps share stories of the Sherlocks they knew. "So what do you do when the world isn't going to Hell?" One thing was certain, Joan's sense of humor and very blunt sarcasm were in tact regardless of anything else she might be thinking or feeling.