Steak, right. She eyes the tray - meat, bread, broth, and sugar. She supposes there are worst ideas post blood-loss. Maybe for vikings salads were things that happened to other people.

Yay scurvy?

Anyway. Jemma diligently addresses herself to the food, trying her best to remind herself that she's an adult and as such has this thing called self control and can just not ogle Pam. It's a thing she can do.

Mostly. It's a very nice view.