Hank's rection was initially automatic. His hand kept up with the rambling answer, filling in every box and then continuing in the notes section as he recorded all of the information, up until halfway through the alphabet brag.
The pen paused and he blinked, glancing over what he'd just written to remind himself, then looked up and chuckled. "And a healthy appreciation for coffee and sugary snacks, without the awareness of time?" he asked. He wasn't even truly teasing, if anything it was a point of similarity between the two. The fact that he was a young (relatively, which was how the ever-younger Hank thought of people as a whole) man who'd been through so much made him wonder. Not about Jensen, of course, the man seemed as normal as anybody would be under the circumstances (although his reaction seemed to differ from the usual description), but about the armed services as a whole. It was something he'd also gone through when he joined the CIA, the whole concept of any special forces work seemed to entail psychological repricussions.
"A list of any medications you're taking beyond sugar and caffiene, and the rough estimate of time since your last annual physical?" he asked. pulling over a small rolling set of shelves to draw a blood sample.