"Oh, it's never too early to have an excuse to see you again," he teased. Soon enough, she came back, a tray balanced near perfectly on her back with two pint cups of, sure enough, pitch black… stuff. Handy wasn't able to place the make of the alcohol even after drinking it. It was thick, biting, heavy, and clung to the oesophagus on the way down, but not in an unpleasant way.