Valerian chuckled from his chest, barely any noise escaping his lips, and he moved to take a sip of his own drink while he tried to figure out how to respond to that. It was a non-answer if he'd ever heard one, which made Valerian wonder what he wasn't telling him. He'd thought his questions were fairly straightforward, even if the latter had been laced with a second meaning that Greengrass hadn't seemed to reacted to in any way.

"I like you, Greengrass," he announced, as if he'd finally made his decision - although he'd admittedly decided that from the moment Greengrass hadn't made some snarky comment when he'd asked him to grab the bottle. He liked people that were easy to be around and did not make it their life's goal to make other people share in their crabbiness. He had enough of that at work. Greengrass being funny was only a bonus.

"But," he began, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as his smile slowly spread, just a little wider, "you didn't tell me whether or not you like ghosts." For some reason he'd deemed that important - maybe not because liking ghosts said much about Greengrass, but it said something about his priorities. Did he pursue passions? Choose it for the hell of it? Do it because it was easy? Those were the important things.

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