Sarah digs out wooden glasses, pouring the alcohol evenly between the both as she stares down into them, the liquid seeming to betray her steadiness. The more she looks at it, the more she thinks about how much Cook would appreciate what she's doing right now. "You know, of the two of them, I fooled around with one and fought with the other constantly. And I can't even say I was myself when the former happened."

She looks up at Hank, offering him the glass as she bows her head down. "Cheers."