... Sir. "The strong stuff, then," he decides. "Don't worry, I'm not going to experiment with your tolerance for narcotics tonight, entertaining as that might prove for me."

Finding a bottle of red, something like the Baedal equivalent of a Syrah, he fills Balthier a generous glass and circles around to place it in front of the man, a hand resting against his back while he does so, briefly. ('Touchy-feely' is never exactly an accurate way to describe Jack, but thoughtless casual contact is a habit of his that seems distinctly amplified tonight.)