[Uhm, way to harsh his vibe, dude. Keith was having a great time in the kitchen forgetting about how asinine Lance is, carefully adding blocks of ice to his drink one at a time (only four in total, five would've put them out of ice again). He also prepped a small bowl of multicolored alien bugles for him, just in case that post-potion taste was stuck in his mouth.]

You don't have to worry about me.

[He carelessly drops the bugle bowl into his lap as a Firm Display of Anger, while kindly...holding the water out in offering.]

What about next time you run into her? [For all the weird shit they've endured thus far, running into someone you're only vaguely familiar with -- visually, it isn't so uncommon. It's like being part of a big school...like the Garrison. Their occupancy isn't so widespread.] You think you're gonna be able to talk some sense into her when it didn't work the first time?

[If Lance hadn't accepted the water yet, he'll be thumping it against his chest.]

I'm not doing this again.

[Less about labor, more about mental toil.]