Joan taps her foot while they stumble over themselves and each other. Auggie is cautious, measured, and understandably so. Annie is rushed, guilty, as if she's somehow responsible for Joan being here and her present situation.

Fingers picking up the rhythm to tap on her forearm, Joan counsels herself to patience while Annie tells her what she already knows. Annie is always nervous when she talks to her. It's gotten better, much better, but the situation and not knowing what Joan knows already has her off-balance.

When they've finished, she smiles as mildly as she can, although in her mood and at this point, she imagines she looks more like a barracuda than anything remotely pleasant. "Yes, I'm aware." She leaves off the 'notice the Victorian dress' because while it might temporarily relieve the pressure of her increasingly pounding headache, it will help nothing.

"Let's get on with it, then. One of you kiss me. I don't care which and neither will Arthur." She's done far worse in the field, and if someone's to kiss her free of this trap, best it be someone Arthur will thank for it.