Very few times does Sable drink coffee of any sort. Yesterday she had felt in the mood for it, so she had made a fresh pot. Usually her creamer gets added to plain oatmeal or milk. She's happy to see a grin on his face when responds to the pancake joke. And then he says something so soft Sable barely catches it. "Okay. I'll make sure to pick some more up next time I go grocery shopping," she responds matter of fact. She knows she'll get the look of a mix of fear and hope from him for giving him something he actual loves foodwise without making him do something to earn it. Her hand brushes his when she goes to put the syrup near him. It stings considerably when he flinches away from her touch. "Sure Jason. It's at eleven. I'm sorry to scare you like that. Do you want me to eat a bit later so you can stay with the kids?" Total sincerity rings in her voice. She doubts that he'll tell her go, but still it's concept of giving him the choice to do so that counts.