The mage woman appears to be purely happy that you're smiling again, not at all the woman she was earlier during the interrogation.  She nods in agreement at the creme liqueur part, but laughs at the mention of taking the scotch too, drawing it in closer to herself.<br/><br/>"Yeah, how about<em>no</em>?" she says with that god-awful smirk again "I rather like scotch... and vodka... and rum... and bourbon... honestly I can drink most any liquor, but I do rather like scotch.  Now that that's done - and you're<em>finally</em>smiling and not butthurt - let's finish our meal, alright?"<br/><br/>That said, the blinds shut a moment later, and the door locks - an electronic lock no less - with a beep as well.  The smirking woman puts down the carton she has in hand, stands, and walks around her desk to put a hand on the runner's shoulder.  Leaning in close, she begins to whisper in her ear.<br/><br/>"You're into women, right?" she asks, though the woman seemed to already know the answer "Because I would<em>love</em>for my dessert to be a hands-on view of that ass of yours... and the rest of you.  You have a<em>lovely</em>body... it took everything I had not to ravish you as you slept in that chair..."<br/><br/>The way her hand - the one not on her shoulder - was moving toward her breast slowly down her body, she was already pushing for a 'yes'...