"I've had worse," he mutters, of the drink. Sipping the coffee and the brandy, he winces and grimaces for the taste of it, but soon he's on his feet steadily and with a little more energy. Now that he's up, though, he makes a face when he inhales deeply.

"You okay to let the oven run for five minutes while I bathe?" He wrinkles his nose, not really wanting to admit it, but, "I think I smell worse than the raw chicken."