Curse those god-forsaken sky pirates. He ought to have known better than the trust they would not pull some childish trick on him. He sees them conferring quietly, Balthier's eyes flashing, and if he weren't already feeling like a dog with his tail between his legs, he very well might snarl at them.

"I assure you I have not drunk myself that far under the table--" he protests, but his words dry up when he feels her glancing touch at his side, and he has to close his eyes and clench his fist because, for a fleeting moment, the conversation that led to that ill-guided message is back in his mind and his body is threatening to take this gesture as meaning something.

"I can go back with these two, milady," he tries to continue, but he's cut off by Balthier's cheery, "Well, since the two of you have this handled, we'll see you tomorrow, hmm?"

"Balthier--" Basch protests but the other two have done what they do best and already slipped away, no doubt more of Balthier's meddling. He's fortunate that he's already flushed from the drinks, because some choice comments are coming back unbidden. She needs someone she can trust to help her loosen up and I've seen the way she looks at you when she doesn't think anyone is watching.

Determined to prove all of them wrong, he slides his stool back and stands, bracing against the counter. Only a little dizzy, though gods above he's going to be hung over tomorrow.

"I can see myself home," he insists, still keeping his eyes carefully averted. He can't right fathom why she's here after that message.