She holds up the mug and clinks her fingernails on its side illustratively.  " - do you have like, a knife . . ."

"Yeah, uh -" She pulls a utility knife out of her knife block. "I don't want to watch, I'm still cool with it I just don't want to look." She puts the knife on the table and sits down and closes her eyes.

"That's fair."  (Judy didn't look either, earlier today.)  Hey magic how about you numb this here forearm.  "Uh, let me know if it hurts at all and I'll stop - how's this - "  She positions the wrist over the mug and gives it a squeeze.

"Wow, better than Novocaine, huh?"

"Yeah."  She hovers the knife in front of the arm and can't quite make herself - oh, maybe if she - "Okay.  Three, two, one - " slice.  Okay.  Set wrist on mug go wash knife.

And then, somewhat belatedly: "Uh, you doing okay?"

"I think so?" Millie still has her eyes shut.

"Yeah fair."  Judy peers into the mug to make sure there's a reasonable amount of blood coming out; there is.  Lets it run a while longer.  Heals.  Finds a paper towel and cleans off Millie's arm.  Stops the anesthesia.  "Okay, uh.  Done."

Millie looks at her arm. "Wow, it doesn't even look like you did anything," she marvels.

"I feel like this is strictly less impressive than other healing you've received today!  But it makes sense if it - feels more real, than the other one."

"Yeah, I didn't have time to - psych myself up or anything for the car, it came out of nowhere - I wasn't even jaywalking."

"Yeah.  Uh.  Yeah."

"Thank you. Again."

"I mean I couldn't not - I mean, you're welcome.  Uh, if it bothers you to watch me drink this you should probably turn away or something."

"I think that part will be fine." Millie doesn't reclose her eyes.

"Cool."  Judy's kind of weirdly reluctant to drink the blood and she can't pinpoint why, but she sits down and starts on it anyway.

It seems to be normal blood. "I hope the whisky isn't going to, like, affect you, since you're 18," says Millie.

Yummy.  "Oh man, I hadn't thought of that.  Probably it'll be fine either way?  It's not like there can be that much of it . . ."

"Yeah, I only had one. Do you sleep -?"

"Yeah."

"If you can't get home after you've had your... drink... you can crash here. My roommate goes home during the summer, she's okay with me putting guests in her room."

"Thanks.  That's really nice of you."

There isn't really very much drink, and so she's already basically done, and - oh.  That's why she was reluctant.

Most importantly: her magic still isn't enough to let her go home.  And she kind of already knew it wouldn't be.  She'd been treating this like something which unexpectedly zapped enough of her magic that she couldn't port back, because that was a contingency she'd already spent time planning for, even as she encountered evidence that and was on most levels modeling this as having been transported to an alternate universe.  The mug of blood wasn't a waste, especially with what she spent on the healing, but she wasn't running super low before and -

She was maybe hanging a lot of her being-okay on being able to pretend that she didn't know this.

"I think I'll be taking you up on that."

"- oh, it didn't -? Oh."

"Yeah."

The oven beeps. Millie puts the pizza in it.

"Do you - have Facebook - "