"They took your private alcohol!?" Oh, no. No, that's not at all what he wants to hear. His fingers automatically begin to swirl in a spellcasting that will summon a martini, but he stops halfway through and lets it dissipate. He doesn't want to know what his reaction will be if he summons a martini glass filled with mouthwash, and besides, this poor woman needs his help.

"First things first," he says instead, hopping behind the counter and pulling out a rack of shimmering vials. He gives her a critical, assessing once-over before pulling one out that gleams the same color as new spring grass and holding it out. "Hangover cure. Guaranteed to halt dying right in its tracks."

He'd also made a note of that top she'd been admiring in case she'd like to wear a shirt today once the hangover has been put down, although his alterations are going to be guesswork if he can't see what he's doing.