Colin's eyes narrowed when the pale individual came in, trying to decide if he recognized him as one of those he was hunting.  But no, he wasn't one familiar to the Scotsman.  A similarity of appearance, but not quite right.<br/><br/>"Not necessary," Colin replied to Chance as he added the Demerara to the shaker and then the ice.  Shaking it up, he strained it into a glass and slid it over to her.  "Your Roman Holiday, lovely lady.  The only question is, do you prefer the cinnamon stick or the mint leaves and the lemon wedge for garnishment.  I've seen one or the other used, but never both."<br/><br/>Of course, he'd made it without the crushed mint leaves, which she might consider an epic fail if she preferred that version of the drink.  After all, he'd seen more than one version of the Roman Holiday.  Which is why he reached out to stick the cinnamon stick in because that went with the version he'd made.  He avoided a smug look, though he was feeling quite proud to remember the drink.  Though it certainly wasn't anything he would drink.  No, he'd stick to his Scotch.<br/><br/>"Not every mystery needs to be explained, Brock.  Sometimes it's best to accept it.  Do I need to know how my Scotch was made?  No, I just need to enjoy it.  Granted, I do know how Scotch is made.  But does it taste any different for the knowing?"<br/><br/>"On the other hand there are exotic foods that may taste good to you until you ask the cook what it is.  And at that point, you wish you hadn't asked.  It's also at that point that you realize that there are some things best left unknown."