Thanks to all the reviewers (you have been quite exceptionally kind), and the beginning of the second paragraph was inspired by some comments made by Douglas Adams about 'The Hitch-hikers Guide to The Galaxy'. The rest of the second paragraph was inspired by 'The Hitch-hikers Guide to The Galaxy' itself. Not entirely sure that it works so feedback would be appreciated, as ever. Also due to my inability to transcribe drunken speech Nobby and Reg must be assumed to be extraordinarily coherent drunks.

The Watch were in the Bucket. Reg was forced to reflect that perhaps he should have reserved his custom for Biers instead, despite being a member of the Old Sam, as drinking in this particular bar meant that Nobby was also present, and he wasn't sure that he wanted either Nobby or Beti around. Which was unsettling. Normally it was hideously easy to decide that you did not want Nobby around, in any situation, so easy the decision could be reached unconsciously. And yet...right now Reg was lost in the conflicted Nobby-related whims he was currently suffering from. And he was aware of the fact, which stung. He shouldn't even have to think of Nobby, except as a petty criminal. He wanted, very badly, for the stinging to disappear, and, currently, saw drink as the only way to numb it.

Whether alcohol should effect zombies is a topic so far unexplored, so perhaps the facts should be set down here, to be recorded, read, confused in the retelling and warped beyond all recognition until even the author cannot remember what the original passage relayed in any detail. Zombies have to concentrate for their hearts to beat, meaning any blood flow is intermittent at best, and often the circulatory system is entirely static. Alcohol is transported via the bloodstream, and so needs said bloodstream to be running to have any effect what so ever on the individual. Technically, therefore, it should be impossible for a zombie to become drunk. However, the second most powerful force known to the multiverse is belief, the most powerful being denial. Through a cocktail of the two many zombies can find themselves drunk whilst the state is actually biologically unattainable, especially if they want to be intoxicated, and are too distracted to acknowledge the impossibility. Reg had reached this heady state, and was leaping happily to a form of existence generally affectionately known as 'the debtor', a term used to indicate that the individual will really pay in the morning. With interest.

Nobby was also currently only on nodding terms with sobriety. The other officers were far too busy drinking to actually pay any attention to either Reg or Nobby at this moment in time. The future was trembling in wary and frightened anticipation.

'Reg?'

'Yes Nobby?'

'Whassit, like, whassit like being a zombie?'

Reg appeared to give this some thought. 'Like a more complex form of being normal, I s'pose.'

'So...do you feel like you did before? Nah, I don't mean that, what I mean is do you have the same emotions as,' Nobby hiccupped, 'as before.'

Reg screwed his face up in hazy thought, risking the loss of his nose. 'I think I do...Yes, it's just that all of them are, sort of fogged, unless you feel them constantly, or concentrate. But the thoughts that go with them are exactly the same.'

Nobby sidled a little closer, although it could have been interpreted as a kind of inebriated semi-vertical collapse. Could have been. Reg noticed, but felt no need to edge away, as perhaps, no, as definitely he would have a few days ago.

Nobby seemed to be contemplating something at once perilous, alien and utterly beguiling. Disconcertingly for someone so drunk he was looking unwaveringly at Reg's grey face, eyes over-bright and mind racing, partially due to the alcohol that was fuelling it, partially due to the clouded eyes he was currently studying for the smallest hint as to the thoughts of the zombie. It wasn't just that, though. Nobby was not even broadly aware of romantic clichés, and had no idea how unoriginal his honest fascination with Reg's irises was.

Nobby's voice was softer now, quieter to, 'should you concentrate now then? Or is it constant for you too?'

Reg's mouth fell open, partially in shock and partially through the aid of decay. Nobby, ever the opportunist, leaned forwards and...

Overbalanced, ending up under the table.

Thank the gods Nobby misjudged that last movement or who knows what might have happened...Sorry everyone. They got a little out of hand. My mind needs cleansing-I cannot believe I wrote Nobby's last line...