[Seems like she's made up her mind. Weir would normally dismiss this suggestion outright, let her go her own way, but perhaps he shouldn't let go of this opportunity just yet. And besides, peeking into his satchel, it's brimming vials, glass clinking all the way to the top. There's not much more he can foist off at this rate.]
no subject
Is that an invitation, then?
[He could eat.]