Ahh now there's that paranoia that Taylor knows and love out of the gun toting psycho. Focused psycho.  Though really she doesn't even think him the worst in the group.  There are far worse, herself would be considered out of her mind in most social circles, but only because she insists that supernatural is real all the time.  And she has good merit behind it, but still, tell that to Joe Schmoe and he wants to throw you into an institution.  Or lock you up in his bedroom with no clothes on...depends on how much of a pervert Joe Schmoe is.<br/><br/>She nods to the two ladies at the end of the bar and smiles as she plops down, too young to be drinking. "Steak, lop off the horns, walk it by the fire...  Oh right, um, I'll have your largest filet." She smiles patting those washboard abs through the white spandex.  She looks over to Allison as she orders something vegetarian.  Barf.  People are called omnivores for a reason, hello!  Okay so that would be mean to say, which is why Taylor's thus far bit her tongue about it. "Oh with a loaded baked potato and salad." She nods and then looks down the bar once more to the two ladies.  Must be kinda nice to be normal.  Taylor hooks one leg through the strap on the duffle near her, again that paranoia setting in of someone stealing it.  And since it's got her weapon in it, it means she's being extra protective of the bag.  "Um, hot chocolate with some ice water to drink" She nods and then decides to go quiet.<br/><br/>Not too often that you get a chance to drop your guard in this line of work.  Now is not really the time, but she is rather fatigued and hungry.  Once she gets rested and fed she'll be good to go again.  Or at least fed.