Heather's smile faded a little at cellular deterioration,, which definitely sounded like a bad thing. But Rory seemed calm enough, so either she'd be okay or he'd been dipping into those good drugs himself, in which case she'd just have to hit him up for more. Not yet, though. For the time being, she was fine.

"I'm good," she reported. "No tolerance for the fun stuff." Which wasn't exactly true, but she'd been stressed and now apparently something had been using her like a human juicebox. At least she didn't feel like someone had left the iron on smack between her boobs anymore. She closed one eye and peered at Rory out of the other.

"You know, not many people can wear that much nose quite as well as you."