He flashes her a smile at that, leans across the self-service bar to grab her something.

"While mixed drinks are the fashion here, I'm a man of simple pleasures myself too. Try this."

Finishing topping up a glass he slides it along to her, drawing his own a little closer for another sip. It's an amber liquid that is as vaguely close to good whisky as he's managed to find thus far. It's not the best thing he's ever drunk, but it's as good as he's managed here -- and there's comfort in the familiar.