With or without wine, she's still pleasant and still undoubtedly attractive, of course. Her manner of speech isn't the type Freddie's used to, but that's hardly a strike against her. If nothing else, he's relieved to have found they've suffered together, for whatever definition of suffering. In truth, there are far worse people for whom Freddie could have professed his undying love.

His lips tug into a slow grin then and he offers a shrug, glancing down at the coffee she's still holding. "Nothing too out there, honestly," he admits. "But I do enjoy irritating the fuck out of him. What d'you say you come back to mine for a bit. We can share some wine -- not roofied, of course -- maybe have a chat and then bang loudly against the wall while making the loudest, most raucous sort of sex noises as we can possibly manage."