Well, Mr. Vakarian, it's not as if you can see me flutter my lashes, anyway. And not like I'd risk swooning in this kitchen and triggering a collapsing shelf or something. [There's an answering hint of teasing to her words, even as she looks slantwise up at him from the array of teas. A slow beat passes before she shifts to find a seat at the table.]

Um, right. No, I'm fine, I'll take mine as it comes. We... have something a lot like this on the Flotilla, so you could say it's homey.