Jack lifted his mug and his chin at once. He barely grinned. "Would I do that?"
"You can't honestly expect me to believe that."
Jack drank, swallowed, and leaned across the table. His eyes were glittering in the lamplight, but all Will could determine from them was that Jack was laughing at him. But Jack did that so often, it was hard to tell the reason behind the laughter any more.
"Honestly," said Jack-- "no."
Will sat back. "All right." He almost wished he'd taken up Jack's offer of a drink, just so he could have had something to do with his mouth, other than try rather unsuccessfully to form words. "All right," he said again, "honestly or not. You. You're asking me to believe that you-- when you were marooned, you single-handedly caught and killed a-- a stingray."
Jack nodded; the barest inclination of his head, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. His lips were twitching, but he drank instead of speaking.
"A stingray," Will persisted. "How do--. You're asking me to believe that?"
Jack put down his mug. It was empty, from the sound of it. "I'm not asking you to do anything," he said, and leaned across the table. His balance wobbled a bit, before he carefully set his elbows on the table to keep himself upright. Will felt dizzy just looking at him.
"What is it?" Will asked. "Seriously."
"I told you," said Jack. Will could smell the alcohol on his breath, but couldn't place it-- there were just too many different liquors he would never even consider tasting. "It's a stingray spine. Thought I'd teach the bugger a lesson. You know."
Jack smiled.
"For what?" Will asked.
"Asking too many questions," said Jack, and he might have hesitated before he stood up, but that also might have been the alcohol.