Patiently waiting as Monet approaches, Tate examines his plate for what to eat next, but holds off for the moment so he doesn't have to talk with a mouth full of food. He looks up as his teammate arrives, tilting his head at her furrowed brow before taking a sip of his drink.

"Need me for something? I can just put this somewhere." He's got no idea what that something could be, but he's not one to say no to being given some direction.