Potential awkwardness (although with Egyptians you can never be too sure), some mentions of violence, Egyptians being Egyptians
When Sekhmet drank, it was well known she didn't stop until she passed out. She supposed many would find it something shameful, and not good for one's health. But most were not Gods, and the burning of the alcohol dulled the burning need for blood. Not a healthy coping mechanism by any means, but the only one she had.
She'd relished the idea of spending time with Shesmu. Out of all of them, she often felt he understood her cravings. That, and he made the best wine in the world. A biased opinion, but she stuck with it. He also expected less from her, or so she felt. Around her Sisters, she was expected to be an Eye of Ra, the undeclared leader of their little pride. With her other and her love, she was expected to be the other side of the coin. Some expected her to be the Divine Queen of Menefer, other an executioner of Ra's will. With Shesmu she could just be and she could laugh. Not even Ptah afforded her that. For that he was her closest friend, after Hathor, and one of the very few she confided in.
She'd showed up on his doorstep, bag in hand, and just offered him the tophat with a raised eyebrow. She didn't remember seeing him take it off. Even she was allowed to be silly at times. She did not recall the rest of the night (even she fell victim to alcohol-induced blackouts at times, even if they would clear soon enough), and right now she didn't care to try and remember. She was curled in warm blankets, fortunate enough to feel the sun on her skin. And what cat, great or small, would not take advantage of that. Smiling in this half-awake state she found herself in she stretched and purred. No dire need to wake up. Not yet.