A part of him, that part that was so enhanced that he could often sense things before they actually happened, had almost expected the invitation. Yet there was another part, the distinctly male part, that found himself caught off guard. It was only dinner, though, from a friend who likely worried for his general health and sodium levels. She had no way of knowing nothing he ate was in any danger of killing him.
Oh! Right. She was expecting an answer. He likely should give her one. "Stew. Yes, of course." That wasn't an answer. "That might be nice. Far preferable to..." he glanced in the cart, a hint of a smirk crossing his face. "French bread pizza. I'm not even certain that's actual sauce."