"I've been nibbling on whatever the crew feeds us all bloody day," Jeffrey said. "If you lot eat nonstop like this all the time, I'd weigh 400 pounds in a week. I don't need any more food any time soon. Since things are in hand here, I'll go to my cabin. I should go to the work out room in the bottom deck, but,...nah...my book is calling. I'll be right across the hall. Call me if you need anything. Goodnight."
He went to his room.
Up on deck, while everyone else broke up from the dinner table to sit around the deck and talk quietly and watch the stars, Marcus had taken advantage of the bar on board and made a flaming drink for himself and one for Khaat.
He took it to her. "Here," he said, offering her a sip with the straw. "Try this."
"It looks like fruit punch."
"Well, don't drink it like that. This is not Kate's fruit punch. This was something I had one time that the bartender called the Golden Snitch." She took a sip. It was delicious. It had firewhiskey, and a mix of fruit juices--lemon, orange, apricot, along with just a bit of soda for effervescence.
"That is amazing," she said. "How many of these can I drink?"
"Before you get silly or before you go unconscious?" he laughed.
"I don't ever find those are very far apart," she said dryly. He laughed.