"We are, but that's what servitors are for."<br/><br/>He bends to pick up her leather-strap garment from where it had fallen on the floor, pulling up his pants as he rises. He offers her a hand to pull herself upright and off the table, handing her the outfit so she can dress. He watches appreciatively as she does so, then snaps his hand to beckon a cleaning servitor over from where it stands immobile against the wall.<br/><br/>"There has been a spill in the eating area. Clean it."<br/><br/>As the machine beeps in response, Benidal turns back to Cin. "It would be ungentlemanly of me to not offer you an escort, or at least a supportive arm, back to your quarters if you plan to sleep off all that cognac." His smile is just as wide as hers, the irony of offering to be a polite gentleman after having screwed her raw not needing to be pointed out.