"Which is nice, I'm sure," she says thoughtfully, "but a kick in the teeth, as well." She pauses before explaining herself, glancing off into the restaurant; they are two of four patrons, neither of whom are talking. It's strange- otherworldly, again. Everything's otherwordly when you're awake at five AM.

And dining with a faery.

"'Be yourself, as long as we can fuck you.'" Hello. She doesn't swear often the BBC would get in trouble for it. She sounds almost absent-minded, though, rather than up-in-arms. "Or perhaps I'm a cynic."