Orsino slid into the booth opposite Penny and leaned back in the seat, stretching his legs a bit but being careful not to invade her territory. This seemed to be just as she'd described it - a top form greasy spoon, with the smells and the sounds that came with such a name. Nonetheless, it was somehow welcoming for all that. He realized that the reason his flat was so often bereft of any real food was because he tended to dine out at least once a day, although it wasn't usually with company outside of the occasional band mate.
He set his hands in his lap, then almost immediately put them on the table, and then his right hand had grabbed the container of sugar almost of its own accord. What Orsino intended to do with the sugar was anyone's guess, most of all his own.
Beginning to feel a bit badly for having barely responded to anything Penny had said since they left, he offered her a slow grin when she asked about the cake.
"Yeah, it was an odd shock," he agreed, then quickly added, "good, though, too. At least I know you weren't some loony trying to get a CD off of me."
Orsino stopped again and thought that that hardly sounded like a compliment, or even a nice thing to say, and he wasn't trying to be rude. Bollocks. He moved on quickly. "Erm. No, I didn't. Probably a good thing, though."