She knows he only really means it to a point. Fuss and fire, beer and that growl in his voice. The gravel that is anything but as heavy or as dark as it can actually get when he doesn't want to be somewhere he's been dragged. Ordered. Required. Cajoled into. Sara popped a piece of turkey in her mouth, even as one side of her mouth tugged crooked.

"God forbid we start to let them expect one good thing out of us?"