There was a lot of time in this prison to fill up. Owen didn't blame her for taking charge nor could he really compete with how much Claire got done in any given day, really. He'd have to find something just as productive other than 'preparing for the inevitable'..
Leaning back into his seat Owen groaned, cradling his stomach, trying to decide if he should shove more food in there. Yes. The answer was always yes. He sat back up with a coy coy grin, "Lady's choice. I can always eat, so, it's up to you. We can even get it to go if you've had your fill of the most dreary night time Italian around." He was certainly open to the more quiet and settling environment of home base himself.