Hawke managed to gasp a breath, looking at the contents of his glass in confusion. It was true, he'd not had real alcohol in weeks, months really, because a few measures out of Potter's cabinet didn't count. And what Rosie served was actually paint stripper.

"Today," He says, once his voice is his own again, before taking a second, more careful swallow. "You know, they don't show this bar on the map. The first thing I wanted when I came off the boat was a drink. They should have thought of that."