"Tea I can do," Lancelot says, and gently places a hand on James' arm to guide him to sit down on a bench. He gestures to wait a moment, vanishes away into the crowds then returns a few minutes later with two cups. The one he hands to James smells strongly of chamomile tea. Slipping to sit on the bench beside James he sets down his own drink -- something coffee related if the colour and scent of it is any clue -- and untucks something folded from under his arm. It's a blanket, brightly coloured from one of the ambulances, and he holds it out to James.

"Keep you warm," he supplies, and slips to sit beside James and sips his drink as he watches the chaos. "Feels silly but it will help."