The first time Connor tasted beer, he remembered choking from the bitter, dry taste, the cool liquid catching in his throat, as he coughed and spluttered, while Uncle Gunn laughed.
"Don't worry, kid, we'll get you Light next time."
Connor came to love patrolling with Uncle Gunn, the two of them co-ordinating their attacks, stalking vampires down alleys and combining their skills – Connor's natural, Gunn's learned – to lure and trap the creatures of the night, synchronizing their hits and adapting to one another's styles.
Uncle Gunn allowed him to drive the truck on occasion, holding on for dear life as Connor careened round corners and screeched to sudden stops, gleefully climbing into the back to use the homemade contraptions Aunt Fred loaded up for them.
On the rare occasion, Uncle Gunn would sneak him a drink afterwards, and Connor eventually came to associate the cold, frothy taste of beer with the cool uncle who taught him everything he knew about patrolling.