Qebhet wasn't sure yet herself. It was hard not to contemplate it with Much resting arms on the bar across from her, his eyes agleam with sly suggestion. Lean and muscular arms, they were, and deft hands. A conspiratorial smile, totally charming.
Qebhet had met attractive and witty and charming immortals before. Apollo had been attractive and charming and witty when he'd flirted and flattered her and settled her anxieties about the battle they were to fight together with easy talk of music and artists. Apollo, she had sensed even then, would be attractive and charming and witty until the moment she got in the way of what she wanted. So it was with many gods.
But there was a current of kindness beneath all of Much's charm. That was what warmed Qebhet to him, and it made her believe him when he said she was safe with him. It also left her conversely hesitant. She liked Much. She liked Marian as well, and Robin from the little they had spoken. They were new friendships and she didn't want to turn them awkward by making a too-hasty move.
The flirtation was nice, though. Qebhet found she didn't even mind when Much's wink sent another flush of warmth to her cheeks. "You are a hero," she said, and the corner of her mouth ticked up. "I'm sure you only use your powers for good."