If Sam were the type to pace, he'd be doing it now. What he tends to do, rather, is take up a position somewhere, and sit there, and think until the restlessness gets to be too much - at which point, he'll get up, move somewhere else to think for a while, and repeat the process.

At the moment, he's at a table in the kitchen, staring off at nothing in particular, glancing every now and then to his journal just in case... well, the prisoners may be back, but Thane's still out there, and Sam's just waiting for the next disaster. It's driving him a little mad that there's not much he can do but wait, unless he wants to talk to Marshall about building a circular sawblade launcher. He's almost considering that at this point.

He glances over when Suzie enters the room, and smiles a little in a tired, distant way. "Suzie." It's half a greeting, half a question. If she needs him for something... well, it'll be more useful than what he's doing now.