[ her face twists in a small moue as if to acknowledge his point but not cede him on any of the resulting implications. sometimes you make do. sometimes you make do on lukewarm beer you forgot to show away into the portable ship icebox. clearly he has never had deigned himself to such liquorly indigence. ]

Do I look like the type to get wasted at a picnic party? [ she pours the coffee cognate into the cup with the unsophisticated air of a schoolboy trying to demonstrate how well he wields a fork and knife to his first ever steak. pinky out. ] That's what this is, right - a picnic.

[ spoken like someone who's never sat in on a picnic in her life. and now for the moment of truth - faye takes a sip, pinky still out, and a generous one at that. she lets it linger, slosh to and fro each cheek. to her benefit, her face betrays not a single opinion for good or ill. her years of poker playing have taught her well. ] Hey. Did you make this?