[ At least they're both easy to distract when tipsy. He'll take it.

He lets Hilda lean on Claude to fix her shoes, even as he peruses the display case and the board written on the wall behind it. He listens with half an ear as Claude starts rattling off an order for them and then he's unceremoniously yanked sideways, having him stumbling a little when Claude loops a finger into his jacket pocket.

Catching himself on the counter, he casts the other man a bemused look before shaking his head in amusement. ]

Add in two of those, would you? And an order of the rose tea. And one of the chamomile there too, please? [ He knows Hilda won't want any of the meat pies, but she'll likely enjoy the tea Claude found. And he's pretty sure he remembers Claude liking chamomile. Maybe it'll help him fall asleep tonight?

He glances over at the pair of them, arching an eyebrow. ] Anything else, or will that be enough?