Clem lets out a soft sigh when he moves - she's begun to recuperate a bit, and might just be posing a bit for effect. The hole in her ego craves every bit of praise she can find, and Tommy seems to like what she's

Not quite like the black velvet paintings surrounding her, but still majestic in its own way.

She has to think about it. "I've got a mini-fridge in the kitchenette," She hikes her thumb to the right. "Should be some sandwiches and soda in there." She doesn't cook as a rule.