2020-08-23 - Celebrating the Life (Death) of Byron (Bryan) Thorne

Brunch at Sitka still requires a suit, but since it's brunch and not, say, dinner, August feels allowed to skip the tie and leave a button undone at the top. Scandalous for a guy who dumped his fiance only to go out drinking with cheerleader-slash-tech-strumpet Abitha Machinae. Truly scandalous.

It's Byron's birthday brunch and Isabella has arrived with Alexander and while she is normally not one to fuss over her appearance, celebrations thrown for her childhood friend's benefit tend to be relatively swanky affairs no matter when held during the day. And really, she doesn't even remember the last time she brunched in any stretch of the imagination.

So when she arrives, she has a wrapped present tucked under a slender arm. Lightly sunkissed and dressed in an airy emerald-green sundress that makes the vibrant color of her eyes stand out and highlight the bronze streaks in her otherwise dark hair, she makes her way into the casino's piano bar hand-in-hand with Alexander. While she makes it a point not to wear anything over the knee, today is an exception - Summers are what they are, and the skirt falls softly an inch or two above, paired with white wedge-heeled sandals. Barely any cosmetics touch her, save for the glowing sheen of biodegradable sunblock, a hint of eyeliner and a touch of gloss. Her lengthy hair has been pulled in one of those messy-but-artful coiffures she favors. Accessories are minimal, but there are always two left consistently on her person - the moonstone pendant around her neck, and the dandelion charm bracelet on her left wrist.

"I don't think I've been here yet," she murmurs to Alexander, an appreciative sweep undertaken with her gaze, taking in Sitka's decor. "Dante's done fantastic work with the place." Catching August's presence somewhere in the bar, she gives him a wave.

Lilith has decided to dress in a vividly Mediterranean blue afternoon cocktail dress for the party, an airy gauzy layer over the fit and flare skirt that rushes out from fit at the hips. The top bodice is embellished with beadwork and spaghetti straps, and it's unsurprisingly lovely. The look on her face is anything but lovely, though, as Byron stands nearby with social graces for milling company. With a mimosa in hand, she eyes some of the men by the door when they don't wrangle a white wreath that says YOU WILL BE MISSED quite fast enough to get it out of the place. She doesn't have to say anything to get the task done, though, her eyes are enough to get those guys on the hustle.

Sighing quietly to herself, she looks at Nathanial Pickler, a young tech startup billionaire who is standing near her and Byron with a redhead girlfriend that has a vapid smile. He's talking numbers about his next venture and a whole bunch of technical stuff in a very nerdy way that doesn't match his date. Lilith doesn't have the patience for the empty-headed arm candy today, she has a party to manage because this will NOT be a memorial or strange and horrific to-do as a gathering, it will be a PARTY.

Linking her arm with Byron's suddenly, she offers him escape to go play 'hellos' to the people arriving, instead of them being cornered with nerd (rich nerd) talk, "Nate, honey, excuse us. We need to mingle." Then with a whisper aside at Byron, she starts to direct them to August and date, then Isabella and Alexander arriving behind, and for a moment she's grateful over who happens to be in her line of sight, "Run run run."

Alexander is with Isabella, and his affection for either Isabella, Byron, or both has even pushed him into wearing clothing appropriate for the event. His shirt is a deep blue button down, with a simple black blazer and black slacks over it, and his leather shoes - worn but still in decent condition - have been polished to as much of a shine as the aged leather can handle. He's ghosting at Isabella's side, a wrapped box tucked under his own arm, and steadfastly ignoring the people who try to call out, "Hey, Mr. A!" from afar. But Isabella can probably hear his teeth grind every time it happens. He glances at the wreath, and his eyebrows go up. "At some point, it seems a little malicious," he murmurs to Isabella. "He's clearly not dead."

Entering in August's wake, much to the consternation of many, is his alleged on-again, off-again fiancee, Eleanor. She's in a stylish dress with the print of a garden window on it, her hair piled up on top of her head. She carries a card for the birthday boy, or is it a sympathy card for his supposed twin?

August raises a hand to Isabella and Lilith, flattens his mouth as Alexander endures yet another enthusiastic 'former' student. He wonders what the odds are on Alexander getting through the brunch without an incident. Not good, he suspects.

Spying a couple people giving him the stink eye and Eleanor glances of mournful sympathy, he slips an arm around one of hers, glares back. He's not the sort of guy to act possessive, but he's feeling it right now, oh yes. "The first person who comes up to you acting surprised we're back together is gonna have a wardrobe failure," he mutters under his breath.

He sees the wreath being jettisoned from the bar, casts Lilith a sympathetic glance. This is gonna be one hell of a brunch.

Probably a bit more recognizable at this point than 'a guy on the piano', one rotund latino has taken the gig today to tickle the ivories and entertain the bourgeoisie. Dressed in his typical neatness for such an event, Rekani was black suit jacket, pants and clean white shirt. That little tinkly song? Maybe a little more recognizable than people think, but hey, it was appropriate to a... wake? Rekani was kind of confused by theme, but he was doing his best people, seriously.

It's probably fairly safe to say that Captain de la Vega does not attend cocktail parties on the regular. Thus, where he managed to procure that fitted tweed vest that someone tailored the hell out of to his bulky frame, worn over a crisp black shirt with the sleeves turned up to his elbows, and tailored black pants.. well, never mind that it ruins the classy image with scads and scads of ink scored up both arms. He's checking the time on his watch as he enters the lounge, and he's very much without a date this afternoon. Which, of course, means more brunch for him.

Skirting around Pickler and his vapid girlfriend who's definitely going to ask him more questions about what it's like shooting bad guys, if he gives her half the chance, the cop shoots Lilith a smile and reaches for some hors d'ouevre that looks like it might be battered and fried shrimp. Then a mimosa in the other hand, and a mumble of something to the guy who wonders if he'll sign a card of condolence, and a funny look like, since when is Byron dead?

"It's a little insane, but no more than what's expected around these parts," Isabella murmurs to Alexander with a squeeze of his hand, though when called out by one of his former students, there's a furrowed brow in that direction before she lowers her voice. "I don't think I've ever seen you so popular to the young crowd, though. I think this beats finding flaming poop bags on your doorstep every Halloween."

With Lilith wheeling Byron away from Nathaniel, she smiles and gives an enthusiastic wave over to her friends when she finds them. "I think I see the birthday boy and his lovely fiancee," she tells him. Javier nearby also gets a bright, beaming smile.

Eleanor curls her arm around August's with a grin at his comment. "I like it when you're like this, August, it's kind of sexy. Wedgies would be less embarrassing to the rest of the guests though. I'm not sure anyone wants to see old Mister McCarthy's ancient behind." She waves to Lilith and Byron, smiling in defiance of all the doubters. "Captain De La Vega is here too, look." Captain. Looks like one of the weird things made it to her ears.

With the summer heat comes a summer wardrobe. Byron is dressed in a similar style to what he's been wearing to cocktail parties or fancy dinners during their week in France. Wearing a white suit jacket with matching pants and shoes, the only dark hues can be found in his black dress shirt with a tiny white leaf-like pattern busily sprinkled throughout. He wears it with the top several buttons left undone which means sans tie as well.

For the week leading up to this day, he was in no mood to celebrate his birthday, preferring, perhaps, for it to be a more private affair. Well, he had his cake the night before, so he's mainly here for Lilith since she worked so hard to set the whole thing up. He smiles, nods, tries not to look too perturbed when people address as Bryan, but there are those who look genuinely surprised (Perhaps ones who hadn't yet heard the Bryan Thorne rumor) who come up to him looking all incredulous when they tell him, "I thought you died!" Even though they can clearly see that he is not dead, those folks are still nervous around Lilith, because she's a killer. From what they'd seen on the television.

Byron likes talking business, which is why he tends to waste his time with Pickler whenever the man stops by for a visit. Thorne, himself, has had projects that dealt with the tech industry, among many other things, so he's game to discuss new ideas with the man. To pick Pickler's brain, so to speak. He doesn't mind the redhead on the man's arm. That would be the third woman he'd seen the man with. Good job! But Lilith excuses them both to pull him away.

"Did you tell people to bring presents?" Byron asks with a furrowed brow when he looks at the gift table being covered in wrapped boxes or fancy packaging. "Roen. Eleanor, long time no see." That is mostly spoken to Eleanor, he sees August all the time "Thanks for coming. Enjoy the drinks, the refreshments and let's hope that Gray Harbor doesn't pay her own respects with a gift of her own, eh?" It's a joke. A dark one.

Spotting Isabella, he leans in to give her a kiss to the check, "Bella, you look wonderful as always." His eyes shift to Alexander, "Clayton."

Alexander perks up as he notices August and Eleanor, giving them both a cheerful wave. He, at least, does not seem surprised to see them together, rather than August cuddling a ficus or something, and Eleanor drowning her grief in ice cream. What does surprise him, after a moment, is Rekani. The DJ is stared at, then waved at, tentatively. He doesn't try to interrupt him, because piano, but he does say, "Oh good. He's alive. I'm glad." He gives Isabella a look. "You say that now, but I noticed the look on your face when that kid came up demanding finger puppet shows...." he waves at the passing touch on the arm as case in point, "And when that mom asked you if you'd be available for babysitting since you're 'so good with the little ones'." He grins, clearly enjoying her memory-related exploits more than his own.

The high five is ignored. Completely.

But Byron isn't. He smiles to the (not dead) birthday boy, a little sheepishly. "Thorne. Looks nice." A glance at Lilith. "Clearly your work. Hope it hasn't been too..." he glances back towards where the funeral wreath disappeared, "Gray Harbor."

Stefhan may be one who stands out in a crowd in some ways, but in more 'higher class' establishments, this may not be the case. He wears a dark colored business suit with a typical, neatly pressed, white shirt underneath. As it seems typical for many business suits, it's loose fitting, likely leaving room for a wallet in some hidden pockets of sorts. He comes in by himself and takes in the scene. There's nothing much to distract him though, not having any musical talent himself, he does pause to admire the piano playing before going to get a drink. Fortunately, he has nothing unsavory to say about the pretty lady on Byron's arm. At the mention of presents though he looks over with a bit of a shock. Seems as if someone who /tries/ to be polite in social circumstances might have come in not prepared to offer adequate praise. Maybe a collection will be taken for the birthday boy? Yeah, that's it. He mutters something in German about working too hard and not paying attention.

Isabella's smile is returned, albeit with significantly less wattage, by the cop. Just a soft creasing at the corners of his eyes as he goes for a sip of his mimosa, and then a wink before he turns away again, and happens to spot August and Eleanor arm in arm nearby. He's heard some mumblings, of course, about the pair having split. And something about a strumpet, too. But this is Roen they're talking about, and Javier's a skeptic at the best of times. He watches them curiously while he prowls along the buffet table, angling on a rough trajectory toward Byron.

Eleanor returns Alexander's wave and smiles at Isabella brightly. She looks back to Byron and hands over the card. "Happy Birthday, Byron, I'm glad you're not dead. And I'm glad you aren't in jail, Lilith. Are there any other crazy rumors I've missed?" She's clearly still wearing her engagement ring, which she has been flashing at gawkers in a solo finger gesture that makes her wish it was on her middle finger. Oh look, old nosy Mrs. Abernathy, ring finger salute to you, go give those sympathy eyes to someone else!

Rekani was a type that absolutely played from memory, or at least could improvise from a tune in his head, so his skirting attention catches the wave from Alexander, returning a nod and a cheeky wink. Waving would be slightly difficult afterall. Rekani works his way through a transition into another tune, having a brief enough break of one hand to reach and take a sip of something, likely a mojito, by the look of the muddled mint. Spotting August and Eleanor gets a grin from the DJ as well, but he was working, so he keeps it professional, totally.

Lilith takes a moment to side-eye the door and affair in general before turning to look at Rekani back on the keys with sudden realization of what that piano rendition actually is. She doesn't recognize the second one, though, and it's fine, he's changed songs. Besides, it's not like there's emo lyrics to clue people in to exactly uh. What the sentiment is there. But despite her watchful air of the party in general, she's all smiles for the good number of company that's familiar coming up to her and Byron, "Hello, hello, all of you. Thank you for coming, this is... well. Yes. But you know, as long as fish don't show up in the mimosas, we're fine. There's a lot of mimosas."

The brunette beams a smile for that, backhanded humor that they can all drink their way through the bullshit and have the affair for the good time it's supposed to be. She does almost snort laughing when coming in to hug Isabella, seeing someone trying to give Alexander that high five. Straightening up, she tells Byron aside, "Presents weren't my idea if you're seeing them on people. It's probably because you're alive and lovely and deserve them."

She doesn't make the people with cards and gifts here in THIS circle go put them on the table, they're free to hand them to the man at will, anything to make his day better.

Fashionably late, that is...absolutely not Itzhak, the compulsively-on-time. His unmistakable voice is heard just beyond the front doors, loud, arguing furiously with someone. "I'm the FUCKING VIOLINIST!" But far from like, waiting until someone confirms with Lilith, Itzhak just storms past security, leaving a dismayed rent-a-cop in his wake. "Sir--" "NOPE!" Itzhak yells back, "today is NOT THE DAY!" And thus he arrives, wearing his gorgeous steel-blue suit, sans jacket, crisp cream shirt rolled to the elbows and like so many of the other men already here, open at the throat.

"Ugh. You know none of this is changing my mind at all about the entire children business," Isabella grumps towards Alexander, eyeballing his cheeky grin - but her expression does soften and she reaches up to plant a light kiss on his cheek. "I don't think I've seen you in these threads in a while." The appreciative look that she's flashing to Sitka's interior redirects to Alexander's broad-shouldered form in the tailored jacket. And while she doesn't tease him by word, she does so by deed, when she presses the hand holding the gift to her heart and feigns a swoon.

But she tables the shameless flirting when Lilith comes in for her embrace, easing away from Alexander briefly so she can return it enthusiastically and plant kisses on the air next to her cheeks. "Beautiful as always," she tells the radiant, near-violet-eyed brunette. "I think this getting married business suits you." She flashes her a quick wink. "Where do we park the presents?" Eleanor's approach earns her a beaming smile in turn.

With the birthday boy tugged over, she reaches over to brush her fingertips lightly on Byron's cheek, if he allows, followed by a light press of the her lips on the air next to his cheek as well. "Happy Three-Oh, B," she tells him warmly followed by a light and teasing, "You know I'll always come if you promise an open bar."

Whatever rumors may have been spreading about Eleanor and August, Byron hadn't heard of them. He does hear some of the whispering going on around them and even asks, "Huh, did you hear that August jilted Eleanor?" Apparently, that's the first he's heard. But seeing that this doesn't look like the case, he'll chalk it up to jealous peeps. He grins over at Alexander, standing proudly in his fancy attire. "I could say the same for you." He would say more, but some random townie comes out with his hand up. The man looked harmless, as far as Thorne could tell. But both the townie and Thorne waits in anticipation for something that's not going to happen.

"Come on, you can't just leave that guy hanging." Pause, "Was he one of your students?" He finds that all amusing.

To all the Happy Birthdays he receives, the businessman, entrepreneur and co-owner of this casino flashes a friendly smile to the greeters. "Thank you. Thank you all for coming. It's been an odd week, admittedly, but it's always wonderful to see your beautiful faces. Let's just try to get through this without any casualties, alright?"

There's this look that he gives Isabella to go with his smile. It looks like Byron has a lot to ask her, but he'll save that for another time. Because there's commotion coming from the entryway where some ruffian or spy is being harassed. Oh, it's just Itzhak. "Let him through." He calls out to the guy at the front, gesturing him to let the violinist pass.

August can't help the sly little grin that he flicks at Eleanor. "No? Not even Mrs. McCarthy?" She's probably right, though. So he sighs. "Fine. Wedgies it is." He drops a kiss on her forehead. "I'm glad it's sexy and not overbearing. I don't want to be a possessive dick or anything."

Except that comment reaches his ears, and god he wants to make that woman's heel break so she goes headfirst into the buffet.

No, no. This is Lilith and Byron's thing. Speaking of which, as Byron greets them, August says, "Congratulations on officially reaching adulthood," on a teasing smile. He half-turns when he hears Itzhak yelling, sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Okay, so it's Alexander or Itzhak who might not make it through the brunch without an incident.

"I think, theoretically, you usually start with fewer than thirty children," Alexander responds, with a fond and amused smile. He goes still at the kiss, then returns it, although he adds a brief moment of bristly cheek-to-cheek caress before pulling back. "I don't usually want to mess them up. Get lost, clothes bloody, set on fire, doused in acid - or worse," he mutters, with a sudden grimace of memory. "But if it makes you swoon, Isabella, I'll consider the risk more often." His dark eyes twinkle at her as he actually flirts back.

His attention is drawn by Itzhak's shouting, and the violinist gets another of those little don't-let-me-distract-you waves, and a smile that immediately shuts off at the shout to Ruiz. He scowls futilely in the direction of the voice, scuffing his toe on the floor as his attention lights on Stefhan for a moment. Until Byron starts to tease him, which gets the scowl turned in the birthday boy's direction. "I'm not a teacher. Here," he just shoves the wrapped box at poor Byron, then.

Well, more people seem to be coming in and at the man using 'colorful metaphors' with such excitement, Stefhan quirks a brow but he doesn't say anything. For one he doesn't have that much enthusiasm and for another, he couldn't play a violin if his life depended on it. But he's attentive enough to know that yes, this is a pretty important party. Also, drinks are flowing from some source. He's a businessman first but, even if business is not the key concern at the moment, he is a man with a heart. He reaches into his pocket to find a hundred dollar bill and then he attempts to put it in the midst of presents that may be piling up. It's all attempted to be done with a bit of subtlety though if someone is watching him, it's probably not too hard to miss. Money is just money though. In other situations it might have more importance but a gift is given and so, he heads over to where drinks are available. Now, the question on his mind is should he go for a mimosa? Alcohol is often not the best companion for him but, does he feel lucky or safe?

"He's the CAPTAIN!" Itzhak yells in the direction of whoever was just a dick to Ruiz, and from the eyebrows-down scowl on his face, he miiiight just go reinforce that with his fists.

Rekani tosses a glance toward the entrance at the familiarly raucous entrance and scene-making of another voice he recognizes, a snort and a shake of the head coming from the Latino. He's able to sneak another sip during a little bridge, sliding into another, probably much more recognizable, song, the tempo slowed to give it a heart-felt, spiritual theme. It may not be as morose or directly mourning as the rest of the songs, but dammit, he just finished Season 4 of 'Magicians' and cried like a baby. If people weren't of the same opinion of that scene, they had no soul, as far as he was concerned.

Eleanor waves towards Itzhak, then sighs at clearly the Russian spy talk is still floating around. She owns a coffee shop, that is like rumor mill ground zero. Also full of healthy plants that were formerly dead ones sent to August by people incensed at their breakup. "Who is on Rosencrantz-wrangling duty tonight?" she murmurs to August. They're like everyone's mom and dad or something. "Everyone looks so lovely this afternoon. I need a drink."

"Thirty children?" He had to give it a number. Isabella's expression blanches visibly and she actually squirms on her heels. But his remarks about wearing designer threads more often causes her to laugh and nip playfully at his cheek. "I love that you take care of them, so don't change any of those habits for my sake," she tells him with a grin. With the gifts relinquished, she falls back a step next to Alexander, her fingers finding his again and tilting her head to rest her temple against his shoulder, eyes turned up to look at his profile. Going on a year, and the way she looks at him has yet to change.

And speaking of looks, Byron's angled glance her way has her lifting her head faintly to look over at him, before she smiles - she knows his expressions well enough to discern what that specific look in his eyes entails. "Later," she promises. "Maybe a drink out in the waterfront after you blow out the candles of your cake?" A pause. "Is there a cake?"

"Why don't you... just open the ones from our people here as a little interlude and I'll go put them on the table once you've had a peek, mm?" Lilith makes suggestion to Byron after a the question about the presents, she's not going to make THESE people table their well-wishes up with memorial donations and whatever else people are sticking over on the table. She flashes a smile and arranges Isabella's hair briefly with appreciation and silent return compliment before looking at August and Ellie, "So nonsense aside, you two are due for the official hitching, soon. Excited or nervous or both? I admit, the idea of a whole aisle to walk down is daunting."

When Lilith hears shouting from the hall, she's already ready to go out there and FIGHT someone in her dress. In fact, her mimosa hand starts to wander outward, like she's finding a space to put it, but doesn't find one nearby. But then she realizes who it is right before Byron makes the allowance to security and puffs relieved air over her lips seeing Itzhak. She even grins a little for his temper and refusal to put up with the 'spy' wariness while lifting her mimosa to her lips, "His violin will keep his hands too busy to punch, I think. It's good."

She steals a glance at Rekani then to make sure he's not amping up for some Moonlight Sonata or something dire, then calls over to Itzhak, "You look very nice, Itzhak!"

August makes a low sound, runs a hand down Eleanor's back. "I'll give Ruiz a hand with him," he says, voice low. But first, he says to Lilith, "Excited, for my part." He glances down at Eleanor briefly, back at Lil. "Not really nervous."

He follows her gaze to Itzhak, sighs in agreement. "Yeah--hopefully." Another kiss for Eleanor's hair. "I know all the people might be getting to you. Need some time at a table?"

"Yes, all rumors to the contrary, the wedding is still on, and has never been off, not even on pause," Eleanor replies to Lilith, looking a little strained. She was excited, and nervous, but this incessant parade of well-wishers giving her their condolences on her failed engagement has made it tough to enjoy. "We're thinking of taking a few days out of town right before, just to relax and get over...Gray Harbor being Gray Harbor." And there goes the Harbor again, in regards to the cake. The redhead's face twists into an exasperated, angry expression as her voice becomes a veritable roar. "IT WAS ME! I HIRED HER A STRIPPER TO POP OUT OF IT! BYRON'S NOT DEAD YOU JACKASS! IT'S A BIRTHDAY PARTY!"

Wow has anyone here ever seen Eleanor this mad before? Better make those few days away at a spa August, that woman needs a massage and some aromatherapy before she shanks someone. Also, that is pretty much an answer to August's question.

"That's kind of you to say, old man." Byron quickly responds to August's bit of teasing about his age. It's all said in good humor as he slaps the elder gentleman on the shoulder as a friendly greeting. He was holding various conversations at once, so as he's doing this, Alexander shoves some box against him, forcing Byron to hold onto it to make sure that it doesn't drop. "Thanks, Clayton. I can clearly see why your students think of you as some sort of academic inspiration."

Does Lilith want him to open these gifts up here and now? Well, if it makes people feel proud of what they'd gifted him, he supposes. It's Alexander's present that he has in hand currently, dark eyes cast over to the investigator. "Clayton, you're up." Whatever is in this box that the man shoved into his arms, he carefully starts to peel away the wrapping, "I'd actually like that. God knows that I could use a drink around now." Even if he's probably had at least two mimosas since this party started.

At the shouting going on, he pauses mid-unwrapping to give the crowd a look-over. "Thank you for standing up for me, but as you can clearly see, I'm very much alive. So enjoy the drinks and a slice of cake. And let's hope I keep this up for another thirty more, eh?" Another pause as Eleanor just goes off on the uninformed. He blinks, brow lifted before he turns to Lilith, "A stripper?"

Stefhan whistles a little to himself. It's a bit of a quiet whistle, likely drowned out by the noise of the lively party. Ok so alcohol may not be the best choice. Then, someone screamed about strippers and, there's a piano player. He knew Grey Harbor was interesting but didn't think it would be all that interesting at the moment. Then the notion of avoiding the drinks completely might be even the better idea. His eyes fall to the cake for a moment but then they look around at other things. Fortunately little seems all that exciting and, that's likely a good notion.

Alexander squeezes Isabella's fingers gently when she steps back against him, and turns his head to kiss the top of hers when she leans in. "Kindergarten class. Isn't that how many they have? I just mean that you can't judge the parenting experience based on an excessive number of small children." There's also a hopeful perk when the word 'cake' is mentioned, but when Eleanor goes off, Alexander recoils, eyes going wide and his body instinctively falling into a defensive posture as he tries to push Isabella behind him. Luckily, this party wasn't a surprise, so he doesn't have a knife. He doesn't even glare at Byron's quip about students, since he's watching Eleanor for signs of suddenly sprouting tentacles and trying to kill them all.

Or maybe it's just that the present is his vengeance? Last year, Alexander received advice on giving a gift from Isabella, and thus the gift was a tasteful (and tasty) bottle of small batch whiskey. This time? He picked it out himself. Sorry, Byron. Hope the 30 year old version still likes the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, because it's totally a TMNT statue in that box, with all four carapaced brothers doing hero-poses like they're about to whoop a whole city full of Foot Clan ass.

Happy birthday, Byron.

Ok, so the sudden outburst from Eleanor, of all people, actually makes Rekani jump, eyes snapping in that direction. The emphatic ire of it, and slowly proccessing what she said, then Byron, has the fat latino instantly pivoting song selection to the first thing that pops into his head that wasn't on his mental catalogue of mourning songs. Because obviously the boy consumes far too much Netflix. He was curious which stripper was hired though, peering toward the cake. Seemed, just like Lyric working at the shop, his myriad side-hustles were just going to constantly have weird connections. Wait... You can't fit a person in that cake. Raw deal... Can you?

"Isabella's cake sensor is amazing..." The woman comments before the loud comment is made, a fond look stolen at the other brunette. But then...

Never in Lilith's life as a local or coffee enthusiast has she seen or heard about Eleanor acting out like that, the woman just isn't really that way as far as she could tell. August might well know better, but she doesn't, and the outburst of stress response and fed-up frustration coming out of the redhead almost make the brunette choke on her drink. After a clear of her throat, though, she shakes her head quickly at Byron, not even bothering to lie and tease him with the possibility of MAYBE I DID GET A STRIPPER. It's tempting, but no. She tells him quite clearly, "No strippers in cakes. Promise."

When Byron unwraps the present, Lilith starts to turn her eyes toward Itzhak and ticks her head toward Rekani, as if letting him know he has some accompaniment to sync up with when it's time, if he so wishes. But what's in the box makes Lilith absolutely light up, "... oh look. Ninja turtles." There's clearly some reason she looks so fond over cartoon turtles, but she probably didn't have a hand in it given her own surprise and delight.

August watches Byron unwrap the gift, smiles to see what it is. Well, what can you get a super rich person, after all? Something interesting, something that requires a detective's skills at sleuthing. He nods approval at Alexander.

...then narrows his eyes, wincing as Eleanor starts to shout. Well, he has his answer about if she needs some time away from people. He slides a hand down her arm, weaving his fingers into hers. "Hey. Let's go get some drinks and a little time outside, okay?" He tugs at her hand gently. Maybe they'll make out in front of God and everyone. Not as good as consummation of marriage on carousel at 4pm, but it'll do for now.

Eleanor, having had her outburst, looks suddenly mortified by it. "I've been drinking way too much coffee," she mumbles. "I'm so sorry Byron, Lilith, I'm just hearing all these stupid things at the coffee shop and some people seem to actually believe them." She nods emphatically to August, squeezing his hand. "Yes, yes some fresh air and a drink would be good." She hustles wherever her fiance leads her.

Itzhak blinks when Eleanor lets loose with a roar. That shakes him out of his mood! He presses a hand to his chest, eyes wide. "Damn, girl," he says with every appreciation and like that maybe turned him on a little. Okay, now he can make it to the piano and start prepping his violin without further attempting to slug anybody. He elbows Rekani. "You ready to tango, big guy?"

Suddenly Isabella's somewhere behind Alexander at the outburst from Ellie. He's not the only one who's surprised. Green-and-gold eyes are wide and peeking somewhere behind the taller, broader investigator, and then she's craning her neck. Ostensibly so she can watch strippers jump out of the cake, or whatever it is that is supposedly happening.

She might be a little disappointed that there's none of that. But hey, it's hard to remain so when there's an actual cake. Lilith's remark about her innate cake sensors earns her a quick grin and a wink, threading her fingers into Alexander's again once the trouble's sorted. "It looks delicious," she says instead in genuine appreciation. She's not much of a sugar person, but really, anyone who doesn't like cake is a monster.

She also belatedly nudges Alexander's ribs by the elbow, because thirty children. Thirty children. She can play with the best of them but good lord.

Stefhan shrugs for a moment after taking everything in. Another glance is offered and still not seeing anyone familiar to him, he begins to edge his way toward the door he came in from. No other remarks are made but he offers a polite nod to whoever may look his way before stepping out.

With some skepticism in his eyes, Byron nods when Lilith says that there are no strippers in cakes. Not that he would be against it, he was just curious once it was brought up to the entirety of the party. During this time, the gift which Alexander brought for him is fully unwrapped and he's both surprised and amused to see images of those bad ass masked turtles on the box, turning the thing over to better examine the gift.

"Strangely enough, I was just thinking back on my Ninja Turtle collection yesterday. I have no idea where they disappeared to all these years, but this is great. I'll proudly display on the end table near terrace." At least he wasn't planning on hiding it away in his high end penthouse. He can't help but look between Alexander and Lilith now, wondering if his fiancée had any hand in this or whether it was an odd, yet entertaining coincidence.

Noticing that August and Eleanor were slipping out for a time, "Thanks, Ellie." He figures they'll be back, so there's no goodbyes, just an acknowledging nod. "So are we ready for cake then?" It's Lily's show, he has no idea what she has planned.

Rekani makes a slight 'Oof' and sways with the elbow, his actual playing trailing off into a tinkly bridge as he side-eyes Itzhak. He upnods, his eyes still a bit squinty, though ever so slowly, his eyebrow rises as his fingers begin a little interlude lead-in, something Itzhak may or may not pick up on as the song starts in. Seems he took the fiddler's cue quite literally.

Alexander relaxes a little when Eleanor doesn't transform and murder them, but it's nothing compared to when Byron is amused by the gift. He gives the younger man a bright, sunny sort of smile, and actually turns a bit ruddy when he suggests that he'll actually display it. "Ninja turtles," he agrees with Lilith, solemnly.

Then Isabella elbows him, and he grunts, before reaching behind him to try and lightly tickle her in revenge. He turns his head so he can catch a glimpse of her peeking around.

Ruiz pauses as he's taking a rather large bite out of some sort of canape, when Eleanor lets loose with that bellow. His eyes tick over to her for a couple of beats, and remain there as he bites, and chews. Like maybe he's reconfiguring his perception of the tall redhead. Huh. Didn't think she was capable of that. As for the guy who snarkily cautioned him against going the way of the old Chief? Well, he's probably feeling like he pissed himself riiiiight about...

now.

Smiling, the cop sidles up not too far from where Byron's standing and offers a tattooed hand to shake. "Feliz cumpleaños," he offers, low-voiced, assuming he manages to snag the man's attention. Occasionally his gaze strays toward Itzhak up there with his violin, preparing to make music; but it's mostly Byron who has his attention for the time being.

August guides Eleanor to the bar for some drinks, then outside to have said drinks and take in the sea air. And make out a little, which ought to calm her down some. Or at least make her feel less like killing anyone at the brunch which keeps trying to turn into a wake.

Eventually he returns, sans Eleanor, who's opted to hang out on the deck and relax a little longer. He hands around 'redheads, what can you do' looks to everyone, which isn't really an apology. Why apologize, these people are driving all of them crazy with their BS. He moves next to Isabella and Alexander, saying, "Excellent gift choice," to them. He's got a mocktail in hand, so maybe he's expecting to need to drive home.

She bites back a laugh when he attempts to tickle her, Isabella attempting to twist and squirm away from him. But her hand does band back around him to slip her fingers through the lapel of his jacket. She doesn't attempt to hide it, but she does slide something flat into his inner breast pocket, the expression of her so exaggeratedly innocent that it's a miracle that Javier's people haven't shattered any skylights in an attempt to arrest her on the spot. She's unable to suppress a grin.

With August returning to their vicinity, she manages to peel her attention away from Alexander, Byron and Lilith to focus on the Combat Botanist's arrival. "It's all him," she says. "Ronnie did love Ninja Turtles when we were kids - admittedly his collection of wristwatches has grown up significantly since then." Concern flits over her expression as she examines the older man up and down. "How are you holding up, August? Resting?"

Is it cake time? No. Cake is last. Lilith doesn't have to say that to Byron, she just suddenly grins and drains her drink. Which means something other than cake is coming. She frees the man's hands of his Ninja Turtle bounty to take to the table so he can have a moment to shake with Ruiz before the music starts up, but Byron is soon about to see there's some reason for the distance. After a glance at Itzhak and his violin, then the piano, she murmurs to Isabella in passing, "... make him dance." Then she shoots a glance at Alexander after giving the woman a heads up, something like sorry-in-advance! (but not really sorry)

Lilith drops the turtles off at the gift table with prominent display in the middle of a lot of cards and wrapped posh that seems to have turned up. Then she nods solidly to Itzhak before making her way back to where Byron is just as August is returning. Instead of returning to his side, though, when the violin picks up to start with flair and tango drama, she comes up behind him in initiating, sultry tango walk to span her hands over his chest and stomach with drag from behind.

Byron knows the song and those hands can only mean one thing. The next step is to spin and grab her roughly before the dance actually starts, he knows that. But does he? It'd certainly be a break from having to talk and smile.

Itzhak, violin tucked under his arm and bow in hand, hooks the mic towards him. "This's Byron Thorne's birthday party," he announces, "he's thirty years old, so welcome to being a real grownup, pal! I heard you're dead, but can a dead guy dance the tango? I ask you! Prove just how healthy you are." Itzhak grins unrepentantly at Byron, takes a step back from the mic, and sets his bow to his strings. Sweeping right into the slinky, aggressive tango, he joins up with Rekani without even seeming to think about it. Just dun! dunDUNdun! right into it.

Alexander can't resist pursuing a mystery, so when the flat something ends up in his inner breast pocket, he stops everything to reach for it, giving Isabella a curious look in the process. But that doesn't mean he misses Lilith's comment, or Itzhak's yell, or the change of music. "No," he tells Isabella, bluntly, although there's no anger behind it. Just a complete and utter barrier.

"de la Vega. Glad that you could make it." Byron says beaming brightly at the CHIEF of Police, extending a hand for a shake, "Figured you'd have your hands full after the incident around Oak." Yeah, he's talking about the car chase. "But let's not have that get in the way of a good time, shall we?" He already knows that Ruiz got started on the drinking, at least. But it's a party!

Thorne seems to be in good spirits for a dead man and he doesn't notice when the music picks up, despite knowing that Itzhak showed up moments ago. A change of music doesn't usually mean anything, but it's when he feels Lilith's hands on him, turning over his shoulder to watch her elegant pose does he realize just what this happens to be. How long has it been since he'd last danced the Tango? Well, the last time wasn't when he was 13 or 14. He'd done so as an adult in L.A., but that was years ago.

This catches him by surprise and he should have realized by what song was playing that this was what Lilith had planned. It was their song, after all. A tiny bit sheepish as he feels like the center of attention in this crowd throwing a party just for him, he follows through, unlike Alexander, who likes to leave people hanging. He spins like a man on a mission, grabbing onto Lilith while keeping his gaze focused on her. It's better doing that that watching the audience around them.

"Resting," August confirms for Isabella. "Raising some kittens. Two for the shop, one for the cabin. Latte, Xylem, and Phloem." He looks completely serious and entirely unashamed about these names.

The music kicks in, and August starts tapping a foot to it, gives Alexander a sidelong look for his immediate 'no'. "Come on, you're a perfectly capable dancer, Alexander. I should know." He bobs his eyebrows. Alas that Eleanor needed a breather, as dancing a tango ought to have raised some eyebrows.

Alexander smiles a little as Byron takes Lilith out onto the dance floor, clearly enjoying watching the two of them. Which makes it doubly notable when at August's gentle teasing and sidelong look wipes the smile entirely off of the investigator's features, and he snaps, going from warm to sharp in a moment, "I said no. I don't dance!" It's not his inside voice, and his expression is set into mulish aggression, visibly bristling at August and anyone who even looks in his direction.

The flat thing that she has deposited in the pocket of Alexander's jacket bears the logo of the casino when he takes a peek, and Isabella's expression remains oh-so-innocent through it, though she surreptitiously gives him a quick wink. She may not be a savant when it comes to words that deal with the emotional, but actions that convey certain messages are something that she is capable of executing.

And when the music changes, there's a glance towards the floor, and then Alexander and August are arguing again. She seems to miss the context, up until the last. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she tells the investigator in a quickly reassuring fashion, though she does flash him a faintly befuddled look - after asking him the first time, and familiarizing herself with his reasons, she's never forced him on the floor and his defensiveness in the first instance (the no from the first time) is somewhat mindboggling. "Besides, I'm content with your proxies." A warm smile directed at the botanist, and then past him to Javier at where he's standing. "If anything they're the ones who are risking the state of their feet taking me out on a turn."

Once Byron has a hold of her with that spin, Lilith bats a single wink up at him, then her expression changes to fiery haughtiness, backpedaling with long backwards dance slowed steps to try and pull away from him as show. He comes along with her while still latched on, of course, and suddenly everyone can tell they're not just going to dance, they're choreographed in time with each other in a moment. Someone has done this before. A lot. It's been a long, long time, but Lilith beat this into a teenage Byron with force, excellent excuses to touch each other so closely at that age. (Also Moulin Rouge.)

Once they're out with some space, Lilith abruptly spins in the man's hold to come out and away from him with whip flash motion, leaning outward with dramatic pose while still latched to one of his strong arms by the hand. Then she waits to be yanked back toward him to do full wandering, long-legged dance while drawn with tight grip and synchronization.

And once she's back in for them to do that, she whispers, "Do you hate me for today?"

August blinks in surprise at Alexander's reaction, going still for a half second. He replays the last few minutes in his mind, wondering if he missed something when he and Eleanor were out on the balcony. Well, it doesn't matter either way, not really. "Apologies, I wasn't trying to tease you or push the issue." He sips from his shirley temple, spies Ruiz by Isabella's glance and raises his drink in a greeting. Looking askance at Isabella, he says, "de la Vega might not mind a chance to dance to Itzhak performing."

Alexander immediately deflates under the look from Isabella and August, going beet red and apologetic in a moment. "Sorry. I just..." He ducks his head. "Sorry, August. Didn't mean to snap." His hand worries at the hotel card key, turning it over and over in his fingers, as he tosses Isabella a sheepish look. "Of course. Have fun." This, he seems to mean, under all the embarrassment over his own outburst.

Ruiz may not quite have Byron's facility with putting on a big fake smile and pretending like he is someone he isn't. But he has done his share of PR, and knows how to navigate the sorts of people who do, perfectly well. That high wattage grin is returned with a bemused chuckle, and he shakes the newly minted thirty year old's hand before withdrawing with his third (fourth? who's counting) mimosa. Isabella's eye is caught during his retreat, and he gravitates toward her, winding up at her left elbow eventually.

"Roen," he greets over a sip of his drink. And, "Alexander, you look like you need a.." A what, Javier? "Minute." Isabella gets a murmur in her ear.

Itzhak is performing the heck out of this, too. He and Rekani weave the raunchy, tough and energetic tango, uncannily in time with the ferocious steps Lilith is inflicting on Byron. Occasionally he peels off to improvise. He's having a good time, at least, right now; on stage, swaying along and eyebrows lifting and dropping with his bow strokes. Like he does, he's lost in it, focused only on the music.

If anyone had told a twelve year old Byron that he would be dancing the tango, he probably scrunched up his nose because that was stupid. Then a year later, Lilith wanted to learn, so what could he do? Let someone else be her dance partner?

All these years later and they were performing those exact same steps but without the awkwardness of one's teenage years filled with a lot of frustration and flushed embarrassment at the intimate nature of these moves. There was probably a ton of arguments whenever Byron would step on her foot or misstep, not gonna lie. But it seems that he remembers enough of those steps and things that he'd forgotten, he's good at improvising in this show of dominance in dance. Or that's how the pair perform the act. There's grace and aggression tangled together.

"Yes, yes I do hate you for today." Byron returns in whisper when she's drawn close, "But I also love you for it too."

"Do I need to put the two of you in a ring or something?" Isabella wonders - there's been on and off tension between Alexander and August lately, and while she's been relatively silent on the matter, it seems that her curiosity is finally getting the better of her today. There's concern, though she's certainly not trying to push it any further than that - it's Byron's birthday after all. Her hand slips away from Alexander, so she can try and accost a drink from the server...

...until the Interim Police Chief arrives, and her expression warms. "Javier," she greets. "How is-- "

Her head tilts when the man steps closer and murmurs something in her ear; whatever it is has her making a small strangled sound, followed by a laugh and, surprisingly enough, the sudden flare of color on her cheeks as she regards him sidelong. "You're awful," she says, but the word is inundated with warm affection, before offering her hand. "And yes, of course. When have I ever said no. I'd say it's your funeral, I'm wearing heels today, but I think it's actually Byron's, so I think you're clear....which will never stop being weird, by the way. I mean, he's obviously alive."

To August and Alexander, she grins. "I'm being kidnapped," she tells them both cheerfully before Ruiz whisks her away to tango. "I'll be right back."

August smiles at Alexander, though it's half a sympathetic wince. He remembers what it's like to react to, well, literally everything. How utterly exhausting it can be. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

His brows gather at the question from Isabella, and one goes up. "I can't hit people," he says, like he expects her to know that. "So unless it's for me to hold a punching bag for Alexander..." But Ruiz directs her away for some dancing, so he doesn't get an explanation as to what she's on about.

"What? No? I just..." Alexander trails off into a mumble, "I just don't like dancing. Unless I am very, very drunk. Which I'm not." He heaves a sigh, and rubs at his face, because honestly? Those mimosas are looking pretty good right now. When Ruiz drifts close, he offers the man a wan sort of smile, and then immediately looks suspicious at the long pause and the quiet whisper to Isabella. He grumbles under his breath at the Interim Chief and his girlfriend as they go off to tango. He snags a mimosa, and drinks a good portion of it in one gulp. A glance towards August, and a soft, reluctant sort of chuckle. "We could work around that. If it were necessary."

Whatever's forgotten to time is made up for by the chemistry of their bodies anew as adults. It's easy to remember every fight, every slammed door, the things they never meant to say aloud and all the making up that comes after. Lilith and Byron eat up all the air in their immediate space when together like this. They're just those kind of people once they're putting on, sometimes even when they're not. And it's fitting, the nature of the tango, the dark haired and dark-eyed man keeping tight dominance on the wild hot and cold tease flashes the brunette woman is putting on. No wonder her dress skirt is how it is. She wore it for this.

Eventually, other partygoers begin to dance too, if with less choreography, Itzhak's playing with Rekani as accompaniment, it's a tempest of infection, especially when the violinist cuts loose with his improvisations to make it singular for performance flair. Look, even Isabella is getting out there with the CHIEF!

With Byron's return quiet exchange on movement along the floor in gripped fast tango posture, Lilith takes intermittent opportunities to do technical foot and leg work, then melts down to hold onto his knee while easing down into a dancer's split with her leg behind. She clings for attention, silently begs him to pick her back up into the dance and forgive her with her face down at nuzzle while posed. After he pulls her up, she downright faux slaps his face and it's something he knows is coming after she's yanked back up to his will.

When he inevitably stares her down as part of the act, Lilith whispers again, "... good. We're doing the lift. Don't drop me."

No pressure.

Drink set aside on a passing waitress's tray, dark eyes trained on Isabella, Ruiz grasps her hand and leads her away, fully expecting her to keep up. Unlike Byron, the acting Chief of Police is not a trained dancer. He doesn't move gracefully; he doesn't move like he knows the steps, or even particularly gives a fuck for what the steps are. He moves like an animal. Predatory and efficient, in full command of each and every turn and step and bend and retreat. He holds Isabella perhaps improprietously close, body to body, dark eyes on green-gold, and that tension in his wrist, like he half expects her to try to turn and run. Like he half expects to have to give chase. Something else is murmured, low, without taking his eyes off her, as the music courses around them.

"Ah, right, the drunk part. That's what I forgot." August watches Alexander grumble and down a mimosa, his expression now wry. That was, of course, the infamous night of engine degreaser, when Alexander was convinced he could drink himself to stronger powers. (The jury remains out on whether or not it worked.)

He turns his attention to Byron and Lil, then Ruiz and Isabella, watching them move to Itzhak and Rekani's music. "I'd have offered, but I don't know if I can hold my left arm like that," he asides. He'd like to think so, but it's still too soon for exertion. The offer of a way around that problem gets Alexander a dry look. "Not sure how we work around it. I guess if we use something as a proxy--tug of war, maybe? Arm wrestling?"

"Mechanized obstacle range, obviously," Alexander says, with a quick little smile towards the botanist. "We can sneak into the police training ground one day, get everything up and running, and whoever tears apart the most cardboard bad guys wins. I've heard it's very cathartic." Most of his attention remains on Ruiz and Isabella, watching them with an intense, thoughtful expression in between sips of the mimosa. "This is very good," he remarks, about the drink. "And it's a nice party. Even with people thinking Byron's dead." His eyes flick towards Byron and Lilith at that, as if reassuring himself that no, that's still Byron and not the possibly evil twin.

Itzhak often plays with his eyes closed when he's really into it, and he's doing that now, but he opens them enough to catch sight of Ruiz doing his predatory thing with Isabella. Promptly he flushes, narrowing his gray eyes in a flash of a dirty look--not at Isabella, but at the Interim Chief. Jealous. So jealous. ...so jealous he almost misses his cue for the lift Lilith is signaling! Cussing under his breath, Itzhak jumps into a tense flourish, like he totally meant to do that, as buildup. Totally buildup. Yes. Pro musician here.

God only knows how Joe got here. But there he is, in a pale gray summer-weight suit, white shirt, blue silk tie. He hasn't been out in public terribly much since the incident with Reyes and his trip back to Georgia. There are new scars on the long face, still vivid and pink, and his expression is grave. He snags a drink from a passing waiter, content to find a space by the bar, all the better to prop it up.

Byron barely pays attention to the others on the dance floor as he goes through every step, every motion in his mind several paces ahead. Besides Lilith, one thing that he does pay attention to is the music, using it as a sense of timing to everything the pair does. Lilith's fancy footwork is tighter than his own, but Byron makes do. With all the twists and turns and spins, the dance encompasses a good portion of the dance floor.

Every move is well-choreographed to what they'd learned from online guides and videos about how one goes about to tango. Like either of them could afford actual dance lessons, well, that weren't paid by Mrs. Gilford. Even the whole slap is acted out with such bravado. But then she asks to be lifted, something reserved for the end of their numbers often enough. With a few twists and turns, he mentally prepares himself for this finale with one final turn, his hands firmly grasp onto his partner, spinning her with his arms as he uses all of his physical prowess to lift her into the air, holding that pose for a few beats, before twirling her once more as he brings her down into a low dip, her back resting against hish thigh as he leans in to hover closely over her, dark eyes staring with intensity into hers as he works to catch his breath.

"It's a lovely party," August agrees. Spotting a set of Calla lilies plainly intended for the 'wake', he quietly sets them to curling up back into their un-bloomed state with the flick of a finger. Now they just look like something brought as a gift which needs time to bloom. He adds, around a sip of shirley temple, "Crazy, unexplained bullshit aside."

He makes a soft 'ah' and points at Alexander. "Clever." He hesitates a second later. "Ah, it'd depend on how...urban. It looks." Suddenly embarrassed by that admission, he shrugs a shoulder and looks away. "This is why I don't take my frustrations out like that. I just work. Kind of the only option I have."

He notices Joe come in, raises his drink--a mocktail, but who's counting--to him in a greeting.

Alexander finishes off his mimosa so he can put it on a tray and applaud as Byron lets Lilith back down again. Look. It's a lift. He's going to applaud. He has no shame. At least about this. The applause is brief but enthusiastic. Once he tapers off, he says, "I think it's pretty urbanish? Building and a little mock-up street. Sorry. I guess we could build something in the woods, though. Angry lumberjacks? Invading moose? The possibilities are endless." He notices Joseph come in, and tracks him with his eyes to the bar. Curiosity, Alexander's greatest weakness, gets the better of him and he wanders off in that direction to accost the poor former astronaut (and totally not a Russian spy). The fact that this is breathtakingly rude to do in the middle of a conversation doesn't seem to occur to him.

"Hey," he says, with a smile. It's a little weird and odd on his face, like it was placed just a few degrees off. "You're back. How are you?"

For a moment, while Itzhak builds and Byron turns her, Lilith is all legs, hooking one of them limberly onto his shoulder with one of the spins to let him drag her with preparation. And for a moment, right before it happens, the woman wonders if she's made a dire mistake. Here she is getting Byron ready to do the lift, but she's forgotten what that entails for herself bodily and knows a drop is apt to land her right on her head with what she's doing. Luckily, he's got a very solid manhandling strength and grip on her to help propel her when it happens because she can't quite get the turn over on her own. But who notices that other than her? Probably no one.

When it all hits a crescendo and bursts into finale of strings, another spin sends the woman away from Byron, and when she's brought back in, another leg goes straight up for him to flip her into his lifting hold. While turned and presented, she goes absolutely trustfall-versions of lax elegance and sweep of arm over head pose to match her legs, and in another quick spin motion, she's down and bent backward in lean to stare at Byron, breathing hard and fast.

"... We can have cake now, if you want."

Something about the way they're staring at each other with that conclusion of final tango powermove probably says 'cake' is the last thing on Lilith's mind, but...

They're probably not going to act on any other meanings of 'cake' right there on the spot. Probably.

Ruiz has absolutely no desire to show off by attempting a lift; he primarily keeps Isabella close to him in estilo milonguero, with a few intricate ochos thrown in for good measure here and there. His clever footwork belies his brutish appearance, perhaps; he might not be quite the hamfist he appears.

If he does manage to catch the violinist's eye, he shadows the man a wink. And then halts Isabella's forward progress with a decisive parada, his clasped hand in hers used to still her body along with his leg positioned alongside hers. Unless, of course, she fights him. "We should go back to your boyfriend," walks the line between suggestion and command.

August ponders the idea of a woods-themed version of the police practice range. That could work. They could even get amusingly creative with the set up. While he's thinking of ways to do this, there's a lift on the dance floor and Alexander heads over to inflict himself on Joe. He applauds the former, as well as Ruiz and Isabella's dancing, looks to comment to Alexander and finds him halfway to his target. August considers trailing after, because leaving Joe to Alexander's social graces isn't the nicest thing he could do. But, well, he needs to check on Eleanor, see if she wants anything from the buffet. He'll know something's happened if there's shouting.

"Good luck, Cavanaugh," he murmurs around a sip from his drink, and makes for the deck. (On his way he walks by yet another funeral arrangement that snuck in, promptly wilts it and points it out to one of the staff, who make it vanish.)

The sailor's clean-shaven and well-groomed. Not as cleancut as he was when he showed up in Gray Harbor, not with his hair grown out into loose curls.....or with those tattoos on his hands. One of the new scars pulls a brow faintly out of shape, giving it a permanently quizzical tilt....and it grows more so, at that question. "I am," Joe says, affably enough. "I'm doin' all right." The drawl's thicker than ever, but then, he recently returned from a two week sojourn among his clan. He seems determined to simply ignore the looks he's getting from some of the other attendees. "How 'bout you?" August gets his glass lifted in return.

And thankfully for the newly-minted Dr. Reede, Isabella's able to keep up - confidence begets confidence, regardless of the lack of training. The basic principle of tango is that it's actually simpler than it looks under the first glimpse in the sense that the dance is all about learning how to walk with a partner, and she can do this just fine. She's able to glide with him on the dance floor with the practiced ease that has less to do with any great prowess in the dance floor, and more due to trust and familiarity regardless of occasional conflict.

She plays along, because that's what tango is - it's just as much a duel as it is a collaborative dance. Whenever he pulls back, she steps closer, swiveling one knee out, and then another, and when he tries to pull her in, she takes several steps away, prompting him to pull her back until her palm flattens against his chest and eyes meet, before she's led backwards with the advancing steps of a man who's always been a predator and hunter of the world's most dangerous game. She holds eye contact in that brazen, defiant way of hers with her chin tilted and up; but rebellion has always been a part of her and it shows by the set of her jaw and the challenging smile she directs his way.

There's another tilt of her head at the low whisper, before she nods, the razor edges of her smile tempering in the corners into something fond, turning her face to deposit her reply close to, but not touching his cheek. And then, she is maneuvered to a tight turn, before she's pushed away, and then tugged close, before she's walked back again. There's visible enjoyment in her features, the expression of her downright effervescent until the song ends and there are cheers directed to the birthday boy and his partner.

Alexander stares at the scars. He makes absolutely no pretense that he's NOT staring at the scars, either. He frowns at them; there's sympathy in the expression, but also a peculiar, clinical interest, like he's looking at a photo and has been asked to identify what weapon made the marks. The scrutiny goes on for a beat or two too long for politeness, before his attention shifts, this time to the hair, the tattoos, and finally, back to Joseph's face. "I'm glad. That you're healing." A shrug for the question in return. "I'm alive. Better than the alternative." Another of those weird, not-quite-right smiles, before he gives it up as a bad job and goes back to frowning at poor Joe.

It's for the best that the song is ending and presumably people are coming to rescue Joe, or Alexander, because the investigator sort of freezes up like he has absolutely no idea what to say next. So he's going to stare, instead, like the script for his conversation is written on the inside of Joe's skull.

Itzhak glares back at Ruiz when he's winked at. You don't get off that easy, says THAT look. He scrambles to improvise a hell of an ending because man, that lift deserves his best effort. He plays a high sweet tremolo and whips a final flourish as Lilith falls against Byron with that look in her eye like he's the cake. "That's how we do it!"

The deed was done. The dance was over. And neither of them messed up. Byron expected Lilith to ace this, but since it's been a few years since he last tango'd and being so out of practice, he was sure that at some point, he was going to forget anything. So this was a proud accomplishment, how well they worked together to make their performance so perfect. The remain in this final position for a few moments longer. The muscles in his body are already tensed and wavering as he works to help hold Lilith up.

"You are still as amazing as ever." As for cake? He finally draws her up to stand in yet another twirl. "I could go for some cake, but champagne is definitely in order. His hair was damp from the exertion, a sheen over his features. With one hand placed at Lilith's backside, he escorts her towards the bar, but not without stopping by the musicians who made this whole thing happened. "That was awesome. Thanks."

Joe's all too used to being poked, prodded, examined, tested, and sampled. One of the things you sign up for when you decide to join the astronaut corps is a career as a giant lab rat; he's had more needles in him than the average heroin addict. So merely visual scrutiny doesn't make him flinch. "Thank you," he says, quietly. "I'm glad to hear that you're well, too." No attempt at his usual hail-fellow-well-met manner - no smile, no real effort to summon up small talk or find an easy out for either of them. As if he were just too tired.

"We should," Isabella tells Ruiz finally with a grin, now that the song is over and she's being relinquished to her date. She presses a light kiss in the air on the side of the interim police chief's cheek, before she head back off to where Alexander has ended up, flashing him a quick smile with cheeks flushed faintly from the exercise on the floor. Perceptive creature that she is, she glances over at Joe and his tired expression. "Good to see you, Joe," she says. "Would you mind if I stole him back? He and I have another appointment in a few minutes."

There's a jerky nod from Alexander to Joseph. He clears his throat, awkwardly. "You should...call me. If I can help," he says, trying in his own way to be concerned and helpful. Thankfully, Isabella arrives before he follows it up with something like so, can you describe your torture to me...because that was probably going to be the next question, let's be perfectly honest. He offers a smile at the archaeologist and leans in to kiss one of those flushed cheeks. "You looked like you were having fun. And yes. We have a hotel room."

As Lilith is taken toward the bar with Byron's guiding, she's flushed and just kind of realizing the extent of eyes and the applause that came kind of late. Nodding a few times quickly on the way to wet up with festive champagne after all that exertion, she grins at Itzhak and Rekani with thanks for the accompaniment. She turns her head to beam a smile at Isabella and the others too, giving the woman a moment with a face that says 'uh huh, I saw you dancing' and something about it seems to put the light of amusement in her eyes there while she makes pointed catch of the other woman's eyes.

Taking the champagne that Byron gains the both of them in hand, Lilith leans against him while speaking and confesses with a laugh, "You're amazing. I'm going to make you start doing lifts at home, getting manhandled in the air is a new experience as an adult. You have one more surprise, though." Lilith beckons to the bartender, who apparently has been stashing something for her. It's an envelope he hands to Byron.

"Of course," Joe says, politely, offering Isabella a little smile. Surely he can guess how that conversation would go - Alexander has the verbal persistence of a tick. "Y'all have a good day," he adds. Still no sign of showing any urge to peel himself away from the bar, though he's nursing the one drink.

Ruiz is gentleman enough to return Isabella to the man she arrived with, even if said man has barely looked his way all evening. The dirty look he got from Itzhak is not missed, either, but it seems only to bolster his good humour. Asshole. He fiddles with one of his turned up sleeves that's come loose, murmurs a soft, "Gracias por el baile, fue encantador," to Isabella, then prowls off to find himself a fresh mimosa. And happens past Joe, enroute. "..hey," he greets the sailor, low, warm, as he settles in beside him into a lean at the bar.

If Byron noticed the dance between Ruiz and Isabella, he doesn't acknowledge it just yet. He'll probably mention it separately to the pair. It's better to gauge a reaction that way. Nevertheless, now that he has a filled flute in hand, the birthday boy is just pleased that he gets this moment to relax. While he might work out on a regular basis, he hasn't performed moves like that in ages. He might feel it some time tomorrow when he wakes up.

"Oh are you? Some people work out using their pets as weights and here I am with the sexiest little minx of all." He's considering it, the way his brows lift as he sips from his glass. "It definitely would be something interesting to add to my current program." She then brings up that he has more surprises. More than what they just did? Looking between Lilith and the bartender, his studies the other man with a wary look, sort of like saying: What did she put /you/ up to. Because Lilith is full of surprises that draw others to play along. Setting the glass down, he reaches for the envelope to quickly open.

There's a grin and a nod made Byron's way. Sure, he was being paid, but special acknowledgement for a good accompaniment was appreciated. Rekani tacks on a look Lilith's way, then a wink at Byron, the kind of expression that admires his woman and tells him he'd done a bangup job. He was Latin, he would know.

Itzhak being "dragged" away by the invisible leash of de la Vega means Rekani can set back into some gentle background.

It's a very simple surprise, really, no fanfare or drama or scavenger hunts leading up to it, it's just an envelope.

Lilith drinks her champagne after a sudden laugh about Byron using her as a workout weight as part of his daily regiment, which honestly, she's probably going to make him try at least once now, on principle. They'll probably see how efficient (not efficient) it actually is, knowing her. In fact, she says just that, like some kind of humored warning, "... I am holding you to that." Then the envelope is passed over to the birthday (dead) guy as silently instructed and it's not sealed, it's just tucked closed.

Inside, there's two pictures. The first picture is of a ridiculous teacup yorkie that other girls might AW over and put in their purse. Lilith, however, has drawn a giant and aggressive sharpie marker X over the dog in the picture. Fuck yorkies.

The second picture has no marker and it's a picture of a stunning white shepherd dog. On the back of the picture, there's three question marks. In the corner, there's a point of contact for a police K-9 sergeant in Seattle. Quietly, when Byron gets to that point and tries to figure out exactly what she's getting at, she murmurs, "He had to be retired from the force after a few months because he doesn't have the temperament for the position." Whatever that means... "They were trying to transition him into a service dog or put him with airport security..."

Now. This is not a gift you give someone that is uninterested, and it's clearly a gift for BOTH of them. So after Lilith is finished talking, she stops looking at the picture to gauge Byron's expression, "We have another week to decide."

Now there's genuine warmth in the sailor's smile, as he looks back at the cop. "Hey," he says, gently. "How you doin'?" A glance after Itz, but other than that, he's seemingly mostly oblivious to the gathering going on around them.

Where did Itzhak vanish to? Ruiz looks contemplative about it for half a minute, then eases in closer to Joe, and plucks at a loose thread on his jacket before murmuring something quietly to him.

Once the lid of the envelope is lifted, Byron pulls out the photos from within. The image of the yorkie with an X drawn over it makes him laugh. Lilith was singling out yorkies over chihuahua or any other tiny yappy pup. Still, it was an odd thing to gift someone. He flips it off, placing it behind the second picture to see an image of a white shepherd. They already had a dog. Sure it was a stuffed husky, but he knew that Lilith always wanted a real doggo.

Eyes on Lilith now, he turns the picture over and he reads the notations written there. "He doesn't have the temperament because... he's friendly to everyone?" Look, police dogs should be mean, green biting machines. Sans the green part. From what Byron can tell, Lilith has her heart set on the pup, making him flip the picture over to study the K9 once more, taking in it stance, every little detail about it. "Do you think it'll get along with Smog? If not, we can always deposit the cat out in some alley somewhere." Look, if they were paying to adopt a dog, they could get rid of the free alley cat the got for free. The card is once more flipped over and he makes a mental note of this police sergeant's name and number, "I think we could take a trip up to Seattle to make sure that it's the right fit for us."

Joe listens attentively, head cocked. Then he's nodding at that, before looking around for the nearest exit. Though he lets Ruiz lead the way, deferring to the cop, as per usual.

Ruiz decides to take this opportunity to exit stage left, while Byron and Lilith are distracted with their super important conversation about what sort of dog they're going to get. He leans in to steal a little kiss from Joe, when he thinks nobody'll notice (and in all honesty, they probably won't), then starts directing him toward the elevators. If he does manage to catch the happy couple's attention on his way by, he'll flash them both a dimpled smile. Byron, after all, is alive, and his betrothed is not a murderess. Things could be worse, right? Now if only people would stop talking like the guys he's seeing are Russian spies, before he has to stab someone.

"Fine by me. Not like it's going to break his blackened little feline dragon heart. He's probably ready to get back out in those streets and smash all the cat ladies, the way Ms. Whitmore's Persian has been teasing him on the terrace below us. I swear, he's going to suicide jump for..." Pussy. Lilith ALMOST says it because it's the best double entendre to use, the 'p' noise starts to pop out of her before she remembers she's at a birthday cocktail party among associates. She thinks about whispering it instead, but... yeah, he probably gets it.

But then, though she'd never admit it, Lilith displays a moment of soft spot for the mentioned cat, leaning up to steal a kiss from Byron to affirmatively seal the match and meet plan for this particular gift. She murmurs at his lips, "... but maybe they'll get along just fine and we won't have to be completely heartless bastards. Cake in your office?"

If that's not a codeword for social escape and other celebration tactics away from the public eye after she's went putting Byron for the loops in public to prove he's alive...

Well no. She actually wants cake too, but that's neither here or there. There'll be plenty leftover.

So the party guests know that he's alive, mostly, and the celebration was in full swing. Looking down at the picture of the shepherd again, Byron starts to tuck it and the anti-Yorkie picture back into the envelope, which he then slips into his inner-lining suit jacket pocket. Sipping slowly at his champagne, he leans into Lilith's kiss when her lips press against the corner of his own.

Cake.

Looking over at the giant cake still on display, though it's already being cut into by now, he easily down the rest of his glass, setting it now empty on the bar. Reaching into his pocket to leave behind a tip, her whispered words was enough to stir him into action, With his heart already pumping and this boost of adrenaline coursing through him after the tango, he slips an arm around Lilith's waist, "You know, I'm really looking forward for a taste of that cake."