[ Amos keeps the grin on his face when John pushes the glass towards him, downs a decent amount as he listens to him talk, rests it back on the table when John's done. ]

Didn't say we were pals. Not sure what we are. You kill someone, they kill you, and then you both wake up like it never happened. Kinda weird, right? But we're probably not gonna kill each other again.

[ He says it totally nonchalantly, like it's an everyday thing. Amos is still smiling, though, like they're having a perfectly pleasant conversation, his earlier worries slipping into the back of his mind as the familiar rhythm from another world creeps up to replace them. ]

But hey. Thanks. I'm not one to turn down any favours, so I'll keep that in mind. [ If there's anything insidious or less than noble going on, he doesn't catch it.

He pauses, expression going more neutral. ] You never know in a place like this.