"Oh," Cesare replies, feigning displeasure at Eames' comment as if that were the thing angering him and not the man's gall. "I wouldn't say that. We host fantastic dinner parties." His tongue dips out of his mouth to lick the side of his lip for the slightest of seconds. It's a reflex. Cesare has drunk fae blood before. It may be a vice but he would be lying if he said he weren't at least a little tempted to try it again tonight.

"You should join us for one sometime." Although it's pretty damn clear that Eames would be a course rather than a guest.