Qebhet's gaze dipped to her glass and she discovered with surprise that it was almost empty. Already? They must have been talking for longer than she'd thought. But Much wasn't looking at all put-upon, quite the opposite, and in spite of her usual aversion to bars, Qebhet wasn't feeling any hurry to get back to her apartment. Diogenes was rather nice, really, when it wasn't too crowded. "I'd like that," she said, smiling, and meant it. "Perhaps when you get back, you could make me a mojito?" He'd said it was his favourite at the moment, and a mojito was a good drink for a balmy summer night.