"Here is your drink, sir."

Never mind the fact that he didn't order one, because that is a genuine, non-replicated, and rather tall glass of Altairian Grand Premier that is now being fumbled across the table, and across Q's lap. Only the best for the resident omnipotent being!

"I am... Sorry."

Of course, there's no emotion behind her apology, as she's not capable of it. She doesn't move to assist him in any way either. She simply waits to study his reaction.