[ emma meets that look with an easily composed flat expression (while finding herself grateful for the opportunity to push down that embarrassingly open smile on her face). ]

I've never had an ounce of misconception that I'd be outdrinkin' you, Faraday. Now or back then.

[ but there's a tiny tug at the corner of her lips anyway, a hint of amusement.

the truth is she doesn't especially care for the flavor of the bourbon, has never had the chance or inclination to develop a taste for it, so the sooner it's gone from her glass, the less time she has to spend drinking it.

...which is probably not the most sensible way to approach the alcohol, which is why she's not in any hurry to refill her glass, what with the gentle warmth settling into her body. ]

But don't go expectin' you'll see me any manner of impaired this evening.