[Pegasus lets out a long, low hum before answering her question.]

Never, probably.

[He's used to shouldering his way through all kinds of doors, physical and otherwise. Fortunately, Monika concedes before any shouldering becomes necessary, and he's quick to grab the trolley by one of its handles and guide it in. The glasses rattle against each other all the way inside.]

I heard that.

[He sounds amused more than anything, though.]

Champagne is a wine, so you technically already like a wine. But you ought to broaden your horizons beyond champagne, bring a little more sophistication to your palate.

[Dropping to his knees before the trolley, he begins to unload some food. Just plates filled with cheese, crackers, bits of bread, fruits, and vegetables. Little things to ensure they aren't drinking on an empty stomach.]

I've even prepared some food.

[If telling the kitchen to make him up some finger food counts as 'preparing'.

He glances at her over his shoulder, looking very pleased with his efforts.]

Downright romantic, isn't it? I think I deserve my French title back.