"Oh--jeez, we're not actually spitting are we?" For some reason that was so much worse than just breathing fire. The pat to her back wrested another cough from her throat, and another little plume of fire. And probably would've sent her face first into the bar if she hadn't been braced for it. His hands were real big and strong. "Okay, I think I'm done," she declared with a sheepish cough-laughed, nudging what was left of her whiskey back towards the general direction of the bartender. "Fun as that was, I don't think I'm cut out to be a dragon."