"...right."

It's surreal, really... And kind of nostalgic. It's been two years since the last time he saw Gaelio, maybe even longer since he last spoke to him like this. (Excluding, of course, the memories that just wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried.) Logically, it's entirely reasonable that Gaelio could end up here... McGillis couldn't question all this time travel stuff, even if it was strange to think it could be real. Their situation was proof of it. And yet, for as entirely possible as this is, it was a thought that had never even occurred to him. After all, what reason was there to wonder about someone who was long since dead?

He clenches a fist at his side, as if to steel himself for... whatever this was going to be. And he follows suit, an arm held over his face as they continue their escape. Once they're outside and out of the way, he looks over at Gaelio, and...

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

Hah... ha... It doesn't feel right, truthfully, but he does what he figures Gaelio is expecting—a friendly, teasing greeting, and then he offers him the napkin he saved, because it looks like he could make far better use of it.