He kept on making choking sounds that bubbled with laughter.

"You should have just said something," Butters said. "Don't feel like you have to hide anything, Harry. I won't judge. I owe you too much for that."

"I'm not gay," I stated.

Butters nodded at me, compassion and empathy all over his face. "Oh. Okay, sure."

"I'm not!"

Butters raised his hands. "It wasn't my place to intrude," he said. "Later, some other time, maybe. None of my business."

"Oh, for crying out loud," I muttered.

Thomas came out bearing plates of steaming, reheated pizza, some roast beef sandwiches, and crackers with slices of cheese partly melted on them. He put them down and came back with bottles of cold beer and cups of hot tea. He poured my tea for me, then leaned over and gave me a chaste kiss on the hair. "There you go."

Butters pretended not to notice.

I punched Thomas awkwardly in the ribs. "Give me the damned pizza before I kill you."

Thomas sighed and confided to Butters, "He gets like this sometimes."

I grabbed the pizza from Thomas, and leaned over enough to snag a beer. Mouse, who had been lying by the front windows staring out at the darkness, got up and came nosing over toward the food.

"Oh, here," Thomas said. "The antibiotics." He put a couple of pills down on my plate.

I growled wordlessly at him, washed them down with a swallow of beer, and fell to eating pizza and roast beef sandwiches and crackers with cheese. I shared a bit with Mouse, every third or fourth bite, until Thomas snagged the last roast beef sandwich and put it on the floor for Mouse to have to himself.

I finished the beer and settled back with the tea afterward. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I'd started eating. The tea was sweet and just barely cool enough to drink. In the wake of the meal and the evening's excitement, I finally started to feel warm and human again. The pain in my leg faded until it was barely noticeable.

I blinked heavily down at my bandaged leg and said, "Hey."

"Hmmm?" Thomas asked.

"You bastard. Those weren't antibiotics."

"No, they weren't," Thomas said, and without a trace of shame. "They were the painkillers. You idiot. You need to rest before you kill yourself."

"Bastard," I said again. The couch really was very comfortable. I finished my tea over the next several moments. "Maybe you have a point."

"Of course I do," Thomas said. "Oh, here's the antibiotic, by the way." He passed me a single horse pill. I swallowed it with the last of my tea. Thomas set the teacup aside and then helped me to my feet. "Come on. Get a few hours of rest. Then you can figure out your next move."