Darm kept his eyes averted. The woman was gorgeous. Curly, red hair, eyes green as jade, rosy cheeks and lips ... The loose shirt and pants she wore didn't reveal much, but the bumps and curves seemed to be in all the right places and in all the right proportions.

Sleg had introduced her - Kiata - and the two of them had kept up a running patter the whole time they'd sat at the kitchen table. Which berries were ready, and weren't, how many, what the winter might bring, the best places to cut wood - and him a city boy.

He smiled and nodded a lot. And tried to go ever so slow on the drinks Sleg kept pouring. It wasn't working. He wasn't just drunk, he was smashed. The leash on his tongue was getting harder and harder to keep a grip on -

"You don't say much, Darmon," Kiata said.

He blinked a couple of times. She was so pretty, but he swore there were three of her - he slid his glass away from him. Blast! Sleg was filling it again - she was frowning - say something, dope! "I guesh ... guess, there's been a lot happening. It'll take me a while to grashp ... blast! Get it all." Oh, she was smiling at him ... "I have this little box, it goes to outerspaysh -"

"Darm!" Sleg was smiling too, but it didn't look right. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should've told you that the Brethren asked for your ub. It's quite -"

"It's a bad omen, Sleg," Kiata snapped. "Since the apocalypse -"

"There wash no sush thing - it was the war, a ... an eco - eco nomical ... downturn ..." Darm grinned, then he stopped. Kiata and Sleg were staring at him. Her eyes ... "I'm shorry ... I ... accopalips hasn't come yet ..." Her eyes ...

She reached her hand out and covered his with it. "You're a little wobbly, Darm. We should talk about this later."

He wasn't sure. Had she winked at him? Oh, she was looking at Sleg. Smiling at Sleg. Likes him better. He emptied his glass. Was she even a woman? Sleg? Boy, girl, boygirl ... Both? Something ... he - never heard of? Sleg's hair was black. His ... no. Her lips were turned up in the moshed wunnerful way.

Things were spinning around the room. Oh, no, no - he wasn't making them fly, was he? How would he ever eshplain ... He was flying. Couldn't fly. Bed. How'd they get ... Clothes ... clothes were gone and ... he couldn't - think of where ...

***

The knife fight in his skull would be the end of him. That was fine. Dying was far better than - his stomach gave a violent heave and he rolled off the bed, tearing for the bathroom. The reek of the latrine finished him off. He staggered back out, aiming for water.

He was almost to the table when he realized Kiata was eyeing him, a wicked little smile on her lips. Oh, double nuts, what had he done? He couldn't remember a thing - then he looked down. He was naked! There was a heap in the middle of the kitchen floor. His clothes? He rushed to pull on his pants, new explosions in his head threatening to burst it.

His hand shook so bad he could barely hang on to the glass as he filled it from the tap. The icy water cut a sharp groove through the vile fur in his mouth and the pain in his brain eased off some. Kiata got up and, jiggling every which way, strolled to the bathroom all the world as though she was dressed.

She came back and took her own sweet time getting her clothes on. He tried not to look but, he couldn't resist, even with his head in the shape it was.

Sleg came in from outside, bright eyed and smiling. "Morning, tiger," it purred.

Darm's face caught fire - if the floor could swallow him ... What on earth had possessed him to drink? Why hadn't he told them he couldn't handle it?

The daemon didn't say any more and sauntered off to the can. Neither one of them seemed hung-over - or the least bit concerned about the situation.

He needed to say what was on his mind ... Or what was left of it. "Kiata, I hope I didn't do anything I shouldn't have. If I did, I'm sorry. I'm not much of a drinker and I must've really overdone it." He leaned against the stone wall, cool, felt so good ... Her laughter, while he enjoyed the melodious sound, wasn't what he'd expected. Maybe not even what he wanted -

"Oh, Darmon, a little harmless fun is all. Cut yourself some slack. I'm off, Sleg," she called out. "Thanks for the hospitality. Don't be a stranger." She gave Darm a smile and a wink, then she was out the door.

He crawled onto the bed and closed his eyes, begging the gods to stop crushing his skull. He started to doze as it faded. Then Sleg climbed in, pulling Darm close. He struggled, but he didn't have the strength to keep on with it.

"You are a strange one, Darm. I don't think I've ever come across anyone so uptight."

"I don't like what alcohol -"

"It wasn't alcohol. And it shouldn't make you sick, but it did, didn't it?"

He didn't care what it was - he wasn't the kind who got loaded and did it with whoever. Or whatever.

"I asked you a question."

"It made me throw up, and my head's full of bashing, smashing hammers if that's what you mean by sick."

"You're monogamous?"

"I don't get physical. And I don't do relationships. It's pointless - people age. I have to leave before it's noticed that I don't. And if I did meet someone who could understand, how horrible would that be? Anyway, it's more trouble than it's worth. Either they lie and they really want to be carried - or worse, they want to run my life for me.

"I suppose if someone actually meant it when they said 'let's just hang out' - but it's never happened. And I'm not holding my breath." It wasn't true. Sheila wasn't like that - the only one he'd -

"So that's what puts you off me? I boss you around?"

He squeezed his eyes shut. Did this thing not get ... That it was a thing? And how could he say it without making it mad? "I don't know who I am, never mind who you are. I have reflexes. I don't want to cave to them. I'll get confused - and I don't need more of that!"

"I'm sorry I fed you something that made you sick. I didn't know it would - it shouldn't have. It's just a little love potion. I was hoping it would cheer you up. Maybe you're allergic. I won't offer it to you again. Kiata is a good friend. You can trust her. Rest. You'll feel better after you sleep."

Trust. He couldn't even hold the word in his head, much less ... His eyes wouldn't open. His mind, his mind's eye, saw Her. Not Kiata ... But he was so alone. Sleep. In a demon's arms. As if. The hangover won. He crashed.