Dan smirked a touch at his reply, and shook his head, placing the bottle back down on the table. He placed the glass by Mark's plate and left his own where it was before he walked over to give the pot a quick stir. "Maybe you're underestimating me" he replied smoothly. "I might not be that bad at chess" he shrugged, obviously teasing. He took a quick drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke away as he turned to face Mark.
Dan on the other hand, was an alcoholic. There wasn't a day that went by, at least on the TARDIS, where he didn't have a few drinks. Or more. But that was how he coped with the world, how he coped with the burdens he carried. No one else had to deal with them, they were his own.