He caught the obvious shock and chuckled. "Well, that's better than 'you mutie freak'," he joked. The fact that this was a joke to him, and a fairly minor one by the sound of it, was probably just a bit telling about the kind of life he'd lead. He didn't sound offended, though.
Couldn't sleep? Yeah, he supposed not. Whatever was going on with this god thing Buffy mentioned in her post must have had her worried. He was a little worried about a pissed off god running around - he still remembered what happened that time Thor got pissed off, and no one was even sure he was the real deal - but he'd learned early on not to show things like fear openly. It just satisfied the various tormentors he'd had to put up with. So instead he ended up with the image of unflappability, even if he wasn't truly unflappable.
He glanced down at the bowl, already containing a Frankencereal creation. If there was one thing Juggernaut could handle, it was weird combinations of food. That was one of the few ways he'd had to amuse himself on a regular basis in his cell. He still remembered eating a hideous hot sauce, egg, ham, cheese, duck sauce, mayo, and mustard bacon burger that had made Nightcrawler, in the cell across from him at the time, throw up. Man, that had been fucking hilarious, although Juggernaut had been disappointed the guy's puke wasn't blue. He'd lost a bet on that one.
He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Sure." He was hungry, after all. And maybe he also thought chilling and eating Frankencereal with her might help calm her down a little. But of course, Juggernaut would never do something like that, would he? No, not if you believed those X-Dorks. He was just a killer and a terrorist. It must have been the hunger.
He carefully plucked a bowl out of a cabinet and placed it down on the table, across from hers. "What combination you working on now?"