"I attacked him, Caroline," he tells her, and since she is going to pull away, he does it first, heading for the replicator and asking it for, "A whisky. Try and make it a decent one for once."

It might be because the replicator takes pity on him, but he doesn't get a fruity cocktail or a soda; he gets a bottle of Jack, instead. Drinkable bourbon instead of decent whisky? Close enough. He pours himself a glass, his left arm still hanging uselessly by his side.