Logan smirks a bit wider, lifting up his drink toward her and giving her a quiet thanks when she fills it again. He leans against the bar, looking down at the drink (aware of so much all at once, the sounds of the water against the ship, the smell of the metal of it in the air, her faint smile in his peripheral vision) and then he looks back up at her, meeting her gaze this time.

He nods.

"Well, now you know for sure," he says, taking a smaller drink from his glass this time. "How's your drink?"