"I could," he mused. "But have no intentions of doing so. If it ever seemed like you might be a problem, or a threat, though, I wouldn't hesitate." In that case, they would both have much bigger problems to deal with. Death, for instance.
His fingers curled around his 'empty' glass which now had a mixture of melted ice, the tiniest bit of scotch, and the ice that had yet to melt. He was just fiddling with it since he had nothing else to do, but time was starting to move against him now.
"I think it's best to use it positively," he said, the best he could give. "However, I need to be going soon. I'll collect on the promise of a day with stronger drinks sometime," Blaise grinned and pushed the glass away from himself, standing up. Now he had to say something vaguely comforting.