Maybe it's a good thing Chell is used to surveillance? She's certainly aware of his staring, but she ignores it, scraping her fork over the bowl to get the last bits of cheese. When she finally finishes, she leans back and burps -- unladylike, and the first audible sound she's made aside from heavy breathing.

She picks up the coffee, letting it warm her fingers, and glances at Bucky at the sink. Does she trust him? No, that'd be too strong a word. And she's had too much recent experience with people going from friendly and helpful to murderous and weird in the time it takes to hit the DELETE button to fully relax here. But ... she can probably live with this. For the moment.

Rising, she grabs the notebook, scribbles, and comes over to him.

WANT HELP?

She pairs it with the sign, nodding towards the dishes.