The kitchen was set up the way his uncle liked it still, but he didn't really see himself shaking things up there too much. First and foremost because he'd never had a kitchen of his own. But also and more importantly, the cook would probably kill him. Sid paused at the freezer to waggle his eyebrows at her. "I like the way you think." Everything was an innuendo if you just believed.
He brought an ice tray around to the barrel dropping a couple cubes in each glass, careful not to let them overflow onto the counter--that would be a tragedy, considering how delectable that concoction smelled at first whiff--and bumped a bony hip back at hers. "Good manners open a lot of doors," he replied nodding sagely. He picked up a glass and held it under his nose, inhaling deeply. Lemony and floral, a total Fae creation and yet... He'd never smelled anything like it. "What do you call this concoction?"