Her smile is warm. "I can do that. A whole loaf, for you." With a little 'S' carved on it, too, she thinks.

"It's just...you know how we all get accused of being alcoholics? This guy actually is. I can go without booze if I have to but he'll literally die. And," a small, shaky breath. "I can't let him die. So. You're gonna get the best fucking sweetbread you've ever had."