Gregor raises his eyebrows. "A bomb?" Color him impressed. "You have been busy, haven't you?" He sits.

Normally he'd turn down the drink because boy can he not handle it, but it's New Year's Eve (apparently), and he's dead again (apparently), and why the hell not? So he gives Rosinante a simple "Sure," and makes himself comfortable on the bench. Or he looks comfortable anyway, but it is still a bench.