Lucian returned the smile to Mhairi, "That would certainly help." Before he answered Sera, "Favorites -- I'm terrible with picking those. I'd say breakfast though, never turn it down. Can't take the country out of the boy, I guess, but there's just something about eggs and smoked meats. Not the fanciest thing in the world, sure, but can always throw in a croissant if someone wants to make a case out of it. What about you?"
He was happy to follow in Mhairi's lead, he'd come to the Gate to explore and having a tour guide made it infinitely more enjoyable. That and he was having a bit of private fun in meeting a few furtive glances cast over at the three of them and their collective looks. He licked at his lips with what they could get up to with a little aggrandizing and posturing. Just playing indoor picnic was nice too though and he put the thoughts aside as he slipped into the booth, making a point to let them settle in first. Not really out of a sense of chivalry as not wanting to insert himself so aggressively into their group, but if it landed that way he would take it.
He tried to give a sly peek into his wallet. He dithered looking at the relatively small collection of bills there. Oh whatever, like I'm saving for retirement. He looked up when his turn came around and requested, "A glass of the house white." Sure, sure his head was still a bit sore but some classy hair of the dog wouldn't hurt nobody. Whatever the two of them might think about drinks by daylight did spring up on him and he added, "And a glass of water. Thank you."
He balanced the drink menu back up on the table before spreading out the regular one, leaning over it to look over. He fiddled with one of the rings that littered his fingers, a plain silver band on his left pointer, while he considered the options. "Thinkin' something on the lighter side. I'm betting they know how to make a salad a real meal here." He pointed at one, a goat cheese, fruit, vinaigrette compliment to its greens. "Maybe this." He hoped neither of them would view that as a call to modesty. He genuinely enjoyed the monastery diet now and then, but he was rarely a fan of pretense over enjoyment, especially with food.
He left his menu open until the others closed theirs. He was in no rush. He settled into the booth and crossed his long legs beneath the table. His be-booted foot slipped up against one of their legs gently -- that or it was legitimately just the table's support. He made a show all the same, leaning to the side as if to look under, "Oh, sorry. Being gangly looks more glamorous in pictures." He leaned back in the booth as he followed up, "Thank you both. This has been a sweet welcome wagon. I should probably get all my papers finalized though. With our president out of town, who's the next best bet to help me make it official?" He knew the booth would let them be a bit more open but didn't want to push it when the server might pop up for their orders at any moment.