Harry stuck out his tongue at her. And kept his mouth shut about thinking about her, and showers and him. And that he knew what was under those clothes of hers. Damn his brain, and Winter's tendency to make it go even more down those roads! He shook his head, clearing it, and forcing himself to concentrate on the bartender.

The man pulled two bottles with the familiar label out from under the bar and handed them over, then wandered off to help someone else and Harry grinned. "Well, now, there's a sight for sore eyes."

Harry eyed them, then passed her one as he opened it and took a cautions sniff, then drew down some. It was heady and just like normal. He smacked his lips in satisfaction. "Now that's the stuff."