I close my eyes, standing in the tiny alleyway. Herc told me I'd find her here. I swing the plain black door open and step into the Angel's Rest. Etana is up by the bar, a huge sea of glasses in front of her. I watch as she throws back a drink then gestures and another glass is set down in front of her. She throws that back and I realise that she's drinking what looks like vodka.

I step up behind her and she sighs.

"I hate being immune to poisons. Another, Fraser."

Another drink is poured out and she tips it back.

"I'm trying to forget but I can't get drunk. I keep seeing all the bodies…"

She signals again and knocks back another glass.

"I just want to get drunk. Is that really so impossible?"

I sit down next to her but wave away the glass that is slid my way.

"Look, you couldn't do anything about Stamford. It was a group of kids who didn't know what they were doing."

"Like the Avengers. You're all children to me. Haven't lived. You're like mayflies, living for a day. And I'm a tortoise, living for eighty, ninety years. You all die so quickly…"

I reach to take the next glass away from her and she catches my wrist.

"From this position I can break your arm in thirteen ways, throw you the length of the pub in twenty-six and kill you in nine ways, two of which involve castration. Right now, I just want to try and make my body realise it should be drunk and keel over with a look of slight and pleasant surprise on my face. Never managed it yet, but I reckon… yeah… Do you still do the Pan Galactics?"

"Tani, we had ta stop serving them."

"Come on Fraser, I know you'll have the recipe somewhere."

He sighs.

"Fine. But if ye get pissed, yer man's paying."

She sighs, slips out her purse and hands it to me, then manages to throw back another vodka.

"I see why Herc said you beat him at drinking."

"He gets drunk. I don't. I just try."

Fraser hands over a delicate glass and winces. Etana shrugs and sighs.

"Here goes."

She drinks, smiles slightly and nods, indicating she would like another. Then she topples straight over, no buckling at the knees, just vertical to horizontal in one sweeping motion, landing flat on her back and there is silence. Then suddenly the other patrons start clapping slowly.

"What?"

"Normally their brains melt."

"Oh…"