[ Erik can't argue with that sentiment, even if he has very little hope of it coming true. He spreads his hands, palms-up, his lips angling in what is almost a smile. ]

We can call this the special occasion.

[ He starts looking for stemware but is thoroughly distracted by how easily Apollo opens the bottle, despite how much the cork screeches in protest.

Damn.

But then he's asking him a question and Erik blinks, turning his attention back to the barware. ]

There's some back here. Not sure how clean it is.

[ He has to reach for them, carefully avoiding all the other stuff that's jumbled around in the bar. He'll probably organize it another sleepless night. Some other one when he's not entertaining somebody so impressive. The glasses he retrieves are very dusty, enough that he coughs when it gets stuck in his nose and throat. ]

Hang on, need to rinse these out.

[ He does so, not wasting time but being thorough, and dries them with the cleanest bar towel he can find before handing them to Apollo. ]