[ever get that feeling that something's just a little bit... off? in some people, it leads to anxiety, in others, a sense of foreboding, and in felicity, it leads to a rambling that she just can't control.]

Drinks. Right. [cupboard. glasses. different cupboard. bottles of booze that she's collected (and been gifted) in the year and some odd that she's been here.]

I got vodka and tequila... some kind of whiskey... [wynonna's favorite, so felicity's sure to keep it on hand.] Rum? The rum's never gone in this house.

[ha? she gives a weak laugh and clears her throat before just:] Have you been here before? I feel like we've met.