He smiled at her when she called him a terrible man, to hide his surprise at her commanding tone. Perhaps he was but together they had finished the bottle, with little encouragement from either party. Her story had gotten him so transfixed that, while listening, he just automatically filled their mugs when he felt it necessary to do so, without considering that either might struggle to rise once the bottle was emptied and empty it did.<br/><br/>He watched with amusement as Helena examined the bottle. He assumed that she was looking for that one last drop before discarding. So there it was, two drunk adults sitting all alone in the kitchen with an empty bottle of brandy. There had to be more, didn’t there. But who would suggest that they fetch another?<br/>