Ethan made a gesture with his arms out slightly, as if to say 'look at me'. "Fit as a fucking fiddle," he said, slightly inebriated. It wasn't that it pleasured him to be a total dick in every situation, but there was really nothing that anyone had done recently that convinced him humanity was worth anything but dick. The gesture of her's, the cookies, and the apology, now that was a surprise. Really, and genuinely, a shock. The last person do to  anything kind to him was an old lady who lived in the building. She used to cook him dinner after.... in exchange, he would take out her garbage, or bring up her groceries when he saw her coming home. She was poorer than he was by far, but for some reason she was a happier soul, and while it perplexed the old soldier, it also made him feel just a little better. She could barely see, yet she seemed to know what he was thinking and feeling before he did.<br/><br/>"Now, you've delivered your cookies like a good little girl scout. What else do you want?" Ethan grabbed a cookie from the plate and took a big bite. He paused, looking down at it before taking another bite. "Hmm... good cookie," he said with a mouth full of the sweet treat. Despite what he'd said and all the mockery, he had to hand it to her. It was a damn good cookie. She'd make decent money if she sold them in town, especially in the middle class areas, where good people still enjoyed the comforts of yesteryear. Ethan finished off the cookie and grabbed another, taking his bottle in hand and heading toward his arm chair, plopping down