He is pretty decent at keeping his expression schooled, his countenance and bearing professional and polite; but he's also a young man, and the hint of innuendo in her words registers, making him blink a few extra blinks as he looks at her again, making the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. Then he breaks into another smile, this one a touch wistful.

"It feels like it's been a million years since I last had a decent steak," he says. "It can't hurt to try."

And then he extends a hand. "I'm Jim. Jim Kirk. Thank you."