Danielle, Mike. She has a name. Amy thinks Dammit, not you, too, but she doesn't say it out loud. She stares at Mike's hand, instead, surprised. He hadn't seemed too keen on physical contact yesterday, when she had looked for it. She briefly wonders if it's a way to manipulate her, but...he would have done that yesterday, right? Besides, it's Mike.
She gives him an hesitant smile and takes his hand "Okay. Er... if that was supposed to be breakfast, I didn't drink it yet. I was worried about who was at the door. And..." and she would very much like a shower, and fresh clothes to wear, something that doesn't smell like sweat and possibly blood...
...the mundane train of tought stops. Besides, it's Mike. That had been her exact thought, as if she had known him for years, instead of having just met the real him the night before. She remembers Danielle's words, with a feeling of unease Ask him. she tells herself, firmly If you really trust him, there's no reason not to ask. "Uhm...Mike. Can I ask you something, first?"