He watches the alien carry the bowl in his mouth, mildly amused until a tiny voice in his head that sounds remarkably like Adia begins to nag at him. You didn't even offer to help him, it admonishes, and for once, he feels mildly guilty for something that has nothing to do with the Cylon War.

Grabbing a handful of napkins, he swiftly joins Faris at the table. "Here," he says, putting them on the table and taking a seat opposite him. "If you don't like it, I can get you something else." Conscience clear, he takes a sip of his coffee and nods approvingly. "This roast is pretty good, though. Does Adia know about this café?"