"Ah, the twenty-four newsday," Wesker drawled, raising his glass and finishing his wine one last bloody drag. The hovering waiter leaped to refill it before he'd even fully set it down again. "Not one of the things I missed most after the end of the world."

It had certainly made his job easier, no longer being held to the court of public opinion. ...Would have made it all the more simple here, if he weren't having to sneak the whole way.

Before the waiter could escape again - bottle clinking nervously against the lip of the glass - Wesker turned to him, ordering without preamble.

"The steak. Rare. Yes, to the asparagus, no, to the potato."

Finished, he looked back Temple, opening his hand in a 'and you?' gesture.