"I'm hardly that bad," Krem said, and scooted to the edge of the bed, away from where Bull was sitting so he couldn't toss him back down when he got up.

There was a brief totter as he got to his feet, but nothing else. He made a wide gesture, one of pride and accomplishment; tada it said, everything's fine.

"I'm not making you carry in a basin and the liquor, Dorian. I can carry one off those myself. And I want the liquor more." Sambuca, whiskey, anything else he could get his hands on. It would all do well.