[Who needs healthy coping mechanisms when alcohol and burying your feelings are much more accessible? And prevalent enough that she's starting to suspect it's a screening requirement for their line of work. At least she wasn't likely to throw stones in that particular glass house. Grinning, she pats his arm.]

Don't worry, Quill. I'll hide your keys from you if you get rowdy. I'll be right back.

[She makes her way over to the bar and opens up a tab. It's only a few minutes later before she returns with two cans of a beer called Half A Brain. She's not exactly discerning about beer so much as she likes to order ones that have funny names. As she hands him one of the cans, she tips her head toward the stage.]

So, you feel like rocking out on the stage or are we going to take over one of the private rooms?