"What makes you say that?" Logan asks, but his smile becomes a little self mocking. "Yeah. One of life's constants, a nice bar. Or not so nice." He cracks his neck and once again there's something very distantly different, about the sound. It wasn't a surprise per say that sleazoids weren't involved on her end - but it meant all this wasn't related to all that. Which could be a good thing of a bad once.

There's an ounce of disappoint in his chest, though it's easy enough to put down, at the idea that it meant less chance that when his team's parasites took hold there was less chance of them winding up there. He gestures to the bartender for another drink and drolls, almost as an afterthought, "Meanwhile, you look a bit like you're expectin' something to bite ya. Not a fan of a good watering hole?"