The closer it got to the holiday the more and more difficult Kytana found it to hold on to her narrow bits of sanity. It was two Christmases ago that House had promised himself to her. Gifted her with a ring that represented just that. This would be their first without him.
Willow had been well into her REM sleep, and well guarded by her eldest daughter, and her Padawan, when she found her way into the pub. It was almost becoming a nightly ritual. Even though the drink hardly did anything for her, far less than the watered down swill of the lowest cantinas of Taris. She still found comfort in the slow burning stroke of the stronger brews.
She was surprised to find Tony Stark within the confines of the four walls. Staring intently at the rich liquid that filled the tumbler in his fingers. Kytana was half tempted to leave him to his wallowing, as she needed to do some of her own back at the table where House had first tempted her. But that was merely the dark edges of who she was, that pushed that thought forward. She needed to set an example, sometimes. Even if it was a poor one.
So instead of finding that scarred table, in the corner, she settled down a few stools down from the genuis. With the will of the force, she coaxed one of the bottles on the higher shelf off, and down before her. Not bothering with a glass.
"Would I sound like a hypocrite if I told you that I don't think you'll find many answers in those depths?" Kytana broke the silence as she opened up the bottle, caring little whether anyone's lips had touched the mouth before her own did. Tossing back a nice thick swallow, before giving him a sideways glance.