She felt fairly confident that if she was just now feeling uneasy on her feet, that Hux and Ben had a few more rounds in them, but if they wanted to end on that note, she wasn't really sure how they could best it. Well, she had some ideas, but it might get weird fairly quickly. Instead, she picked Ben's glass up again, poured another shot in it, and slid it back to him. "Oh no," she said, "you said you would do another if we told you who. And I'm going to tell you." She paused for a moment just to draw out the anticipation. "One of my warriors in the Scyre was this man called Torben. Tall," she put her hand about two inches over her own head, "dark, gorgeous hair. I think everyone in our tribe wanted to be with him, and about half probably had. But he was..." she waved her hand vaguely, "five or six years older and never once gave me a second look."
Was it a true story? Maybe. Maybe not. But it was a believable story.
"Now as for your spoils..." She braced her hands on the bar and hoisted herself up, then leaned across and grabbed Ben by the back of the head to pull him in for a firm kiss, slightly more heated than the one they'd shared at the new year event. "Please don't brag," she said after, dropping back down to her feet behind the bar. She seemed to still have control of her physical capacities even if she seemed a little looser, and a little more prone to casual chatter. Obviously, someone should have handed Phasma a drink or three a long time ago.
"I feel fine," she shrugged, glancing back to Hux for a moment. "I may need a stim pack in the morning, but presently, I have only a few minor complaints."