It's an unexpected little stab to somewhere he didn't know was soft and vulnerable, grinding and hooking painfully behind the ribs. Charlie busies himself with a pull from the mug, the wine oaken and brusque at the back of his tongue. He manages a quick grin, corner of his mouth pulling. Cocks his head.

"Yeah, well, haven't got a whole stash of Egyptian gold to pay for this one now have you?"