"I - " Dean held up a glass and tried, not very well, to form a coherent thought. He'd discovered a few years in in New York that he couldn't really be trusted to drink alone, because without someone there to tell him when he'd had too much, he didn't really judge the line all that well for himself. "I neverlie," He mumbled, finally, and then got shakily up from the couch to push an unopened bottle into Seamus' hands. "Catchup."