[There is indeed an argument and as with all of their utterly ridiculous arguments, voiced or not, it's likely to come up again at some point because the butterflies aren't going away and neither are their respective ridiculous senses of fashion, along with everything else.

But for now Subete just sighs, half-exasperated and half-amused, and slides back into his seat at the bar. His own drink is just a spot of red wine; he isn't really drinking to get drunk, still wary of letting loose in the middle of whatever is still happening with the Foundation, but...]

I thought I told you not to let it go to your head.

[He swirls the wine a little distractedly and then gives his companion another side-glance. There's a momentary teasing quality to his voice, there and gone again like a blink.]

Hmm. Hard to say if I should be impressed or not, but at least you put some of it to good use. Are you still collecting?