Owen gets one grateful and casual sip out of his coffee mug, listening mildly to Marie's chatting and Gwen's adorable exasperation. But he doesn't quite get the second sip -- mug pausing at his mouth, eyes a little wider -- as she just keeps going, on the topic of elephant C-sections, while her daughter slowly dies against the counter. He honestly wants to reach out to Gwen just to... comfort her, as if they're watching a tragic thing unfold with no way to stop it.

It's not that bad, of course. But Owen knows he wouldn't do very well listening to someone like Marie for very long, either. But she's wonderful, of course. Letting them use her home on such short notice, being so generous with food and clothing. The coffee. So wonderful. Of course.

When finally addressed, Owen clears his throat and takes a cautious sip of his coffee, to hide the fact that he'd completely forgotten about it until right that second.

"Clothes. Actually. Would be great," he says, pursing his lips. "As long as you don't mind."