2020-12-26 - New Year's Eve At Sitka

Cruz is dressed up to ring in the New Year with Sitka's owner, wearing a gunmetal grey tux with a bit of a sheen to it, the lapels and pockets of his jacket a shiny black satin that matches the stripe that shoots down the seams of his trousers. A top hat has been added at some point, glittery silver with the numbers 2021 on the band to commemorate the coming year. Even if it's not Cris' preferred drink, he has a glass of champagne in his hand, his knuckles decorated with a myriad of silver rings curled around the stem. He has a resting brood face, but he seems to be making an attempt at smiling a bit more tonight, if only to help Dante, it has nothing to do with the fact that his eyes do indeed seem happy in the slight way they crinkle when he traces Dante's movement across the room.

The last time Alexander and Isabella attempted a fun, fancy evening as a couple, it ended in a bad Dream and murder.

And no, even Alexander doesn't think that was a successful date night. So, they're trying again, although they seem to be separated from one another for the moment, leaving Alexander on his own. As a gift to her, he's scraped together money for the full experience, and is even dressed...perhaps a little eccentrically, but still appropriately, for the occasion. Alexander is dressed to the nines: at least, if the nines are 1929. He's wearing a pinstripe suit over a burgundy shirt; both have been tailored to fit his frame, and even to take into account his usual slumped posture, which he's trying to correct. Under his jacket, there are black suspenders, and a black waistcoat. Someone's even managed to make him wear a tie, which is red with white slanted stripes, and tucked neatly under the waistcoat. His shoes are leather, polished to a high shine, and with white spats on the sides. Topping the outfit is a Panama hat in pale gray, with a dark red band, which has been pulled to a rakish angle over one eyebrow.

He has a plate. And canapes, and he's nibbling on a couple of them with an air of exploration. Seeing Cristobal and Dante, he starts sort of slinking through the crowd towards the men, offering a tentative sort of smile.

Isolde feels a little out of place at anywhere remotely fancy but she figures she deserves a night of something nice. It's a new year, new her! Or however the saying goes. She's wearing a sparkly green dress with black heels. Her hair is pinned up in a loose bun. She immediately goes to the bar to get a little something to calm her nerves first before skimming the area. She relaxes - seeing the familiar face of Alexander. Though also looks mildly curious as to why he's here anyway. She's downs her shot of liquid nerve calmer before starting to make her way towards Alexander and Co. "Hello everyone." Offering a cheerful enough smile.

Cristobal raises his glass in a silent welcoming toast to Alexander as he sees the man approaching. When he's close enough, Cruz gives him a long once over and a smirk tilts the corner of his mouth. "Well don't you clean up purdy. I was actually hoping you might show." Something is dug out of his pocket, and a pair of car keys are dropped onto the man's appetizer plate. "Merry fucking Christmas." It might be a more touching moment if he wasn't checking out Isolde's legs.

Dante breaks off from his host duties of working the room to step up beside Cris and kiss him on the cheek. "There. That's the end of it. I'm officially off-duty, barring some emergency. Who's your..." he blinks at Alexander, does a double take, then smiles broadly, "Why Mister Clayton. Look at you. I do approve of a bold fashion choice." Obviously. He turns when he hears a greeting, and he lifts his glass of punch towards Isolde. "Good evening my dear. Happy New Year."

Holiday celebrations are not de la Vega's thing. In point of fact, he typically spends them on the clock, nose to the grindstone. Tonight, he's been conned and arm twisted out of his usual scruffy tee shirt and jeans, and into a suit. His sleek Armani, to boot; though dollars to donuts, there's a handgun in a shoulder holster buckled tight to his ribs under there. That, or he's put a little weight on recently.

The cop's at the bar, predictably, placing an order for drinks. Tequila, amongst other things, while he scrolls through his friendzone feed and pointedly ignores the other clientele.

Alexander's eyebrows rise at Cris saying he hoped he might show. A little warily, he says, "If you were hoping I'd get you out of it by creating a social disaster, I'm trying very hard not to do that." It appears to be entirely serious, but then his expression lights up when he sees Isolde. "Isolde! You look wonderful." He even makes a little bow, slow and awkward and sort of /outdated/. But he's trying. Dante's approach brings an amused cough. "It's okay that you don't recognize me. It's a little awkward. But a very nice party. Hi."

"Happy New Year! Everything looks so pretty." Isolde smiled towards Dante, free hand idly fiddling with her frog charm bracelet. Her head tilts when Cristobal tosses a pair of keys in Alexander's plate. "...Do you drive now, Alexander?" Giggling at his greeting. "Thank you! So do you! Very nice." She doesn't seem to catch Cristobal checking her out.

It takes a moment for Alexander to work up the nerve to ask, "Why did you toss keys at me?" He picks up the keys in one hand, and jangles them experimentally.

Cris' hand strays to Dante's hip as the man delivers a kiss to Cruz' cheek. "You're going to have to do that properly when the ball drops." He warns Dante with a bit of a growl in his voice. Then, "Don't get too excited there, Clayton. It's just a loaner, and more of as an apology than a gift."

Itzhak was at least one source of arm-twisting to get the interim Chief into that Armani. Himself, he's impeccably dressed too, in a steel-blue three piece suit slim-cut to make the best of his tall lanky frame. He's wearing it with a black shirt and a candy-pink tie and pocket square, because he does what he wants. Those very fancy shoes Dante got him finish up his outfit. Wait, one more thing, he is totally rocking guyliner, just a delicate application of black liquid liner that makes the green in his eyes pop.

Of course, he brought his violin. He may or may not be part of the planned entertainment--but the smart money is on may.

Right now, he turns from whatever he was doing--chatting up a clarinetist about klezmer--and sees Isolde and it takes him a second to recognize her but then he does and he goes a little blank.

"Saving up the last of my energy for it, darling," says Dante to Cris. He takes a good pull from his drink. Up close, he looks a little weary. "As absolutely wonderful as this month has been, and as good as it's been for my bottom line, I'm ready for a little bit of a change of pace. Not to sound like a coddled layabout, but I don't think I've ever worked so hard in my life. But in the restaurant business, one must make hay while the sun shines. Ah. all of you..." he waves over a server, "Prime rib on miniature Yorkshire puddings with a dollop of horseradish mousse. I recommend it. The beef melts in your mouth."

"A loaner?" Alexander blinks, then brightens. There's a brief and brilliant grin. "I get to drive your car? Thank you!" But as quickly as it's there, it fades into confusion. "I don't think you have anything to apologize for." A pause. "To me. I don't know about anyone else." He smiles at Isolde. "I always drove. When I need to. I just don't have a car." There's a brightening at the mention of the food. "I've always wanted to try a Yorkshire pudding. They sound interesting, and I--" his gaze, ever twitchy and roving, lights on Itzhak first, as the tall man stands out in steel-blue, and then, there's Ruiz, at the bar, and his expression flickers, his shoulders hunching in. He licks his lips and turns away, back to the others. Taking refuge in questions. "Been busy?"

Having been able to shift his duties over at the Firefly to one of the other guys under his watch, the younger Monaghan strolls his way into Sitka to join the festivities. He is dressed as one would expect for a fancy holiday party, his torso covered in a fine dark green woolen suit jacket and white shirt, tailor-made to fit his frame. That is where the normal attire ends, for instead of wearing the pants that go along with the suit, Seth is wearing a traditional woolen kilt in the Monaghan tartan of red, green, and yellow. The belt fastened around his waist holds a sporran that dangles heavily over the front of the kilt to help keep things in place. Below the kilt, a pair of high socks with ties and expensive leather shoes complete the ensemble.

Seth pauses at the door, casing the room and the occupants for a moment in an abundance of caution before he strolls into the restaurant/piano bar making a straight line towards the counter, casting a quick nod in greeting to some as he passes.

Cris makes a little noise in the back of his throat when Dante mentions his energy level, no doubt trying to choke back an inappropriate comment which resulted in the aforementioned noise. "We'll talk about it later." He mentions off-handedly to Alexander, eyes straying towards the bar for a moment. "So who's going to introduce me to legs over here?" He asks of the group, Cris finding his own refuge in the sight of Isolde's gams.

Isolde seems happy to listen more than talk, just thankful to be near someone she knows. "Oh, that makes sense." On the topic of driving. "Me too. I should look into getting a car now that I'm back." Thinking a moment. "It would be a little easier to get around at least. "

She does a bit of a turn to see whom else is around. Her hand lifts to wave to Seth and in that motion Isolde also see Itzhak. There's a falter in her hand and but then she summons a smile to him and gives him a wave too. She laughed at Cristobal's comment, attention turning to him and offering her hand. "Isolde. Nice to meet you."

"Isolde is one of my closest friends. We went to college together. She's decided to brave the dark waters of Gray Harbor again, despite usually having more sense than that," Alexander says, his voice dry and teasing, but his expression fond as she extends her hand. "Isolde, this is Cristobal Cruz. He's," there a thoughtful pause, "sort of a friend. And this is Dante. He writes horror novels and runs this place, and is generally rather nice."

Sitka really does have very good food. The Yorkshire puddings are surprisingly light and flaky considering they're being passed around a party. The beef is tender and flavourful, with just a bit of gravy and a light dusting of horseradish. "Can I have an Old Fashioned, please? Thank you," he says to the server. Normally one wouldn't order drinks from the servers passing plates of food, but there's things you can get away with as the boss. He gives Cris a bit of a side-eye for the sound, but it's followed by a grin. He nods at Alexander's introduction, inclining his head to Isole. "Rather nice? Well, I guess I'll have to try harder." To be more or less nice? Hard to say.

The trio that's been playing background music finishes with a soft smattering of applause and a promise of the swing band that's coming up shortly. The mood in the room itself is getting more and more lively. It's starting to feel less like a cocktail bar and more like a real party.

De la Vega's just in the process of jamming his phone into an inner pocket of his suit jacket, when Alexander happens to glance his way. He meets the private investigator's gaze, just for an instant. There's a fractional narrowing of his eyes. And watching him is like looking across a caged enclosure at a tiger, and knowing. Knowing it'd rip your throat out, if it could. If you gave it half the chance.

His tongue darts across his lower lip, and he turns away as his drinks arrive; a rumbled gracias to the 'tender. They're collected, one in each hand, before he pushes off the bar and starts winding his way over to where Itzhak is chatting up one of the other musicians. Cris, on his way by, is slid a briefly lingering look but no greeting. And then a drink's being nudged into his boyfriend's hand amidst the smattering of applause. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?" is muttered into the taller man's ear.

Cristobal accepts the 'sort of a friend' introduction by Alexander, scooping up Isolde's hand as it's given and bringing it to his mouth. Just shy of kissing her knuckles, his gaze flicks up to meet hers. "I know that name from some where. Un placer."

Itzhak hesitantly raises a hand back to Isolde. Then she's being charmed by Cristobal and he gets a truly weird look on his face like he doesn't know what to make of this. He shoots Cris an undecipherable look. Is it 'yeah bro you're cool' or is it 'hands the fuck OFF', who can tell. Fortunately then Ruiz is there to give him his drink--a sidecar--and distract him. He bends his head to him, huffs dry laughter. "Because I wanted to see you in this suit?" he murmurs back, taps his glass to Ruiz's. "L'chaim."

Alexander gives a little shrug to Dante. "Most wealthy people are complete assholes, so being rather nice puts you at least two standard deviations above the mean," he says, like it should be a compliment. This is why people don't take Alexander to these sorts of things, but Isabella has been shanghaied by community college faculty, so she's not there to just put a hand over his mouth. And yet, when Ruiz narrows his eyes at him, the investigator's head ducks, and he shrinks in on himself, going quiet while he studies his shoes instead of anything else going on. He fiddles with the keys and the canape plate with quick, nervous motions.

"Ah, well, that's it then. Despite appearances, I'm not actually that wealthy. Especially after sinking a lot of my nest egg into this place." Dante motions around him and then lifts his chin to Alexander. "I just have good taste and spend a lot of money on m'clothes." He side-eyes Cristobal and the hand-kissing, but instead of jealousy, there's a wry little grin.

Other canapes cycling include smoked salmon with cream cheese and fresh chives, bruscetta, prime rib sliders, bacon wrapped water chestnuts and more.

As Seth reaches the bar, he orders himself a scotch before turning around to rest his back against the counter. Eyes scan the room, picking out the people he knows. Alexander, Isolde, Itz, and Ruix all get a brief nod should they look in his direction. Seeing the food being passed around, once his scotch is delivered, Seth starts to make the rounds of the floor, on a hunt for those prime rib sliders he saw pass by a moment ago, his path taking him over Alexander's way.

"It's nice to meet you both!" Isolde offers, a flush of color rising as Cristobal nearly kisses her knuckles. "Le plaisir est pour moi." French, not spanish, but the meaning gets across all the same. It's rare she ever gets to use her French anyway. Once her hand is free she uses it to pluck up one of the appetizers going around and popping it in her mouth. An easier distraction than staring at her ex and his boyfriend. She gives Alexander a little nudge and a smile, an attempt at comfort. "So, are you going to go on long winter drives now with your fancy loner car?" She teases him.

When Seth nears closer she asks him, "How are you doing, Seth?"

Ah right. That's how he knows the name. The look he caught from Itzhak was enough of a confirmation. The latino bouncer cuffs Dante on the back of the neck, running the tip of his pinky along the man's collar briefly in a show of affection (if not possessively). "Disculpe." Cristobal excuses himself from the others for a second, drawn by the gaze from Ruiz like a shark smelling blood in the water, and goes to circle around de la Vega and Itzhak, taking his sweet time about tightening his approach. "Boys. Looking sharp." He tips his champagne glass towards them, like he's about to get in on their clinking glasses, but doesn't make the contact.

Alexander looks back up when the tray of canapes comes sailing past, and gut-wrenching guilt or no guilt, nothing will stop him from having smoked salmon with fixings on little toast points. He takes two, immediately eats one, and puts the other aside in anticipation of enjoying it later. He smiles as he sees Seth approaching. "Seth. Hello. Happy New Year." It's a mark of the fact that he is close to Isolde that he doesn't flinch away from the nudge, only smiles. "I don't know. Maybe visit one of the interesting places along the coast, or go shopping in Seattle. Some specialty shops have very interesting research materials." He means gruesome crime things.

Itz is far more a social butterfly than Joe is, these days. But one or both of the other Caballeros has winkled him out of his seaborne solitude....so the sailor comes in, either fashionably or apathetically late, depending. He's in a well-tailored, severely-cut suit in a dark blue, the fabric with a subtle sheen to it. No guyliner on him, alas. The beard's been trimmed back to a deliberate scruff, but his hair is still that loose tumble of curls. Getting long, really. He goes meandering for Ruiz without hesitation, expression neutral.

Javier snags himself a plate and a few of the prime rib sliders, much to the chagrin of the girl who'd been passing by with them. Because clearly, you take one, not four. He flashes her a charming smile though, and she seems suitably mollified. "L'chaim," he repeats to Itzhak in a low murmur, mangling it terribly. Then a slug of tequila chased with a mouthful of prime rib and, "That's good. You should try one." The plate's offered up, and Alexander's watched, here and there, until Cris filters into his peripheral vision and draws his attention.

Dark eyes slide toward the bouncer's, meeting blue with a faint creasing of crow's feet at the corners. Gruffly, "Cruz." And there's Joe, shifting his focus, softening the hard line of his jaw just a fraction when he spots him.

"Behave," Dante whispers cheekily to Cris as he breaks off. "It's my big night." But he doesn't try and chase after the other man. His drink arrives and he murmurs a thank-you to the server. "Ah, shopping. I definitely hope to get out of town as January is notoriously dead in the restaurant world. But I may have to stay at home and finish the last round of revisions on my new manuscript."

Suddenly, and with great bombast, the Portland-based swing band starts up with a thud of drums and Sing, Sing. Sing.

Catching up to the sliders, Seth takes a napkin and a couple of the little mini-burgers as he gives Isolde and Alexander a nod in greeting. "Hey there. I can't complain. Still breathing at the very least." He grins, taking a sip from his scotch as he keeps his head on a swivel. Big places like this are a nightmare for security. Popping one of the little burgers into his mouth, the bouncer chews slowly before washing the morsel down with another sip of scotch as he turns his head to Alexander, "You have a car? Did someone give you a license to go with it? Damn. Just do me a favor...let me know when you are leaving so I can move my car." he kids with the PI.

Seth looks over as the band starts to play. "Swing, huh? I might have to find someone to cut a rug with."

Alexander perks up. "New manuscript? Is it one of the folklore books, or the horror novels?" When the band first launches into the song, he twitches, like he's going to dive behind a table or out the door, but relaxes in the next few moments as nothing happens but music. His toe even starts tapping. He tries not to look back at Ruiz and Itzhak, so when Cris heads in that direction, his eyes lock on Seth, instead. "Breathing is good. And no. Cruz is going to let me drive his. I think?" A puzzled glance at Dante, as if he might know the details of this gift. He does sniff and add, "I'm actually a very good driver. I've never had an accident."

The odds of Cristobal's car surviving this experience just plummeted.

Itzhak backs Ruiz up charming the server with that lopsided smile that he knows works, and together, who is going to say no to the two of them? At least over canapes. He takes one and eats it far faster than it deserves, out of anxiety, and licks a flake of pastry from his thumb as Cris comes up. "What's shakin'," he says, jerking his chin to him. "How you been, huh?" Joe comes in and Itzhak hikes his eyebrows at him, then Seth Monaghan walks by and Itzhak actually double-takes. "Jesus, the calves on that man."

"That sounds like a good idea. Seattle has good researching and shopping." Isolde agreed, grinning a bit. She pops a final appetizer in her mouth as she looks around. Clearly lighting up when the music came on. "That's because you never drive, Alexander." She counters, teasing him still apparently. She looks towards Dante with a mild interest as Alexander asks him about his manuscript.

She hesitates a beat as Seth mentions finding a dance partner and then offers up with a smile, "Well, I'm not the best dancer, but I'll dance with you. If you want."

There is a cross of his fingers behind Cruz' back for Dante's amusement only, his body shifting aside slightly to make way for the appearance of Joseph amid Ruiz and Itzhak. "Better than most, can't complain. Helps waking up next to a tall British drink of water every morning, and he doesn't wear a suit to bed, if you know what I'm saying." His gaze follows Itzhak's to Monaghan's shins, giving them the same lascivious gaze he gave Isolde's legs. "Think he has a blue ribbon tied up under there?"

"You should come with me," Alexander suggests to Isolde. "I promise that it wouldn't be ALL crime scene photos and old detective's diaries." A pause. "Just mostly. But it might be fun?" Then he arches an eyebrow. "Then again, if you don't trust my driving, I guess I'll have to extend the offer to someone else, instead..." He grins at her, teasing back in kind. He adds, loyally, to Seth, "She's underselling herself. She's a good dancer."

"Horror novel, I'm afraid. No way I could successfully write about Gray Harbor in a way that would...well, you know." Dante makes a vague gesture towards Alexander and the town in general. "It'll be out in the spring season if I manage to get the last edits turned around in time. Which I intend to. My publisher's been rather patient."

When the band starts up, he exchanges nods with his floor manager. And as the musc thumps and soars, and as the tight brass section plays its celebratory music, the servers in their tails parade out with trays laden with cocktails, each with a sparkler that is lit just as they leave the kitchen. It's a celebratory parade of drinks, and it was clearly well-choreographed. There are also Christmas crackers on the trays that are handed out toanyone who wants to take one.

There's a little tilt of his head to the silent greetings from Itz and Javier. Joe's snagged a bit of bruschetta, finished it off in a couple of neat bites. The drink he orders is one of his usuals, a Cuba Libre. He doesn't seem disposed to mingle, though, simply propping himself against the bar and watching the passers-by. Cris gets a sort of absent-minded nod in greeting.

"What she said." Seth chuckles as Isolde tells Alexander his accident record is so clean because he never drives. "I was going to say the same thing, but she beat me to it." The bouncer grins, taking a bit out of the other slider. "You're thinking of heading over to Seattle? I haven't been there in years. Last time I was there I went to the Pop Culture Museum. They had a pretty coll horror movie exhibit, I wonder if it is still there? I don't know how often they switch things up in there."

Seth smiles at Isolde, "You're probably better then you think you are. Besides, it's just dancing. I don't think anyone is going to care if you mess anything up."

"I'll come with you! I have to make sure there's a witness to your driving skills." Isolde winked. "Besides, maybe there's a museum or something we could see too. It might be helpful for school." Isolde agrees with Alexander. "And it would be fun to see Seattle properly some time." Her eyes widen a bit watching the parade of drinks. "A pop culture museum?" Eyes on the drink trays as they come out before dragging back to Seth and Alexander. "That does sound neat. Horror movie exhibit or not."

"True." She concedes at Seth's comment on dancing. "I certainly never do." Grinning a touch about not caring about messing up. "But the surprise of getting feet stepped on is never a very fun one."

"Taking it off's half the fun," Javier opines with a flash of a dimpled grin aimed at Cris. Mirthless, that; there's no real warmth in it. It's a wolfish flash of teeth and whites of eyes, before he nudges Itzhak, murmurs something to him, and prowls away. To go join Cavanaugh in propping up the bar, apparently, and avoiding chit chat. Seth's calves, on his way by, get a briefly appraising glance.

Alexander wants a Christmas cracker! Or two. And he watches a sparkler go by with an intensity that suggests he's just holding back from grabbing one of those, as well. But he does refrain. "Well, now you're invited too," he mock-grumps at Seth, "because I feel like my spotless driving record is being called into question, here. I have to defend my honor and it's always best to have two eye-witnesses when trying to prove a point of observation. And I like museums." As much as he might like to not, Alexander isn't the sort of person who can not look at something, so his eyes drift back towards Ruiz, and follow his track to Joe's side. He grimaces, and looks back at Itzhak. The mechanic, at least, gets a tentative, almost hopeful, sort of smile of greeting, and a nod at the violin.

"Yeah, well, according to Abildgaard, he wants someone to check." Itzhak murmurs it into his drink. That, too, he's going through faster than he should. He's acting a little unusual--normally he'd be working the room like the life of the party he can be when sufficiently lubricated, but at the moment he's sticking right by Ruiz's side, weight on one leg, hipshot, looking like the rough guy in a pretty suit he is. He should at least be dancing, especially now that 'Sing Sing Sing' is playing. Whatever Ruiz says to him, he replies to with a wry hitch of eyebrows, and he shoulders him as he goes to join Joe.

Then Alexander is looking at him like that and Itzhak smiles back at him, a little, almost bashful, uncertain. He glances back at Ruiz and Joe, as if to check that he's not being negligent in his duty, and he thumps Cris on the back, hard, and goes over to Alexander and Dante. "Fuckin' love everything you are doing right now, Taylor."

"With my teeth." Cruz seems to finish Javier's thought. "I think that's my cue." Cris notes of the drinks making their rounds with the sparklers or the hard thump to his back. Before he moves off entirely, however, he points directly at Joseph as if to say 'You', but the context is left vague and unfinished as he goes to rejoin the Englishman, hand to his chest and slipping beneath the man's lapel. "You should dance with him, Rosie, before I claim him for the rest of the night."

Dante looks up as Itzhak approaches. He smiles at the lanky violinist. "Good evening. Looking so very dapper. Happy New Year." If there's no resistance, the other man gets a handshake and then a European-style cheek kiss in greeting. "The swing band finishes with Auld Lang Syne, then the trio goes back up, if you feel like joining them for late-night stylings later on." Eyebrows lift. And then Cris is re-joining him and he gives the Mexican a little hip-check. "Ah, well, I'm too English to be a good dancer." Which Cris knows categorically to be untrue from their nights at the Firefly.

There's only a wry little smile for Javier, as he approaches. At least Joe's nursing the drink, and not going for things the way he does when he doesn't intend to see the dawn in sober. Maybe he's learned wisdom, finally....or more likely simply accepted the fact that he's got middle-age in his rearview mirror and things don't work like they used to. Itz gets a lifted glass.

"We'll see, but if I go I am taking my own car." Seth grins to Alexander. "Someone will have to drive back when you end up totaling the car." The Irish bouncer pats Alexander on the shoulder gently and drains the rest of the amber liquid from his glass of scotch. Setting the empty onto one of the passing trays, Seth looks to Alexander. "Alexander, have you happen to have seen Vic?" he says as he glances around the restaurant. "I was hoping she might be here. I don't know if she was feeling up to it or not."

Not knowing his calves seem the be the center of attention, the redhead offers his hand over to Isolde with a slight little bow at the waist, "Well, shall we? I promise I won't get mad if you step on my toes. I have been forewarned, and I am willing to risk it. Besides, I will have to be a bit tame as a kilt and swing dancing might be...revealing if I am not careful." he says with a laugh.

"Itzhak." Alexander's voice is tentative, matching his expression. "Hello. Happy New Year. I--" he stops, stares, then defaults back to, "Hello. You look very nice." Like just about anytime Alexander tries the social niceties instead of just saying what pops out of his mouth, it sounds like a bad actor reading his first cue card. Then he skitters in alarm away from Seth's attempted pat on the shoulder, letting his fingers hit only air. He clears his throat, as if embarrassed about his own reaction. "I won't total the car," he grumbles, then a quick shake of his head. "No. Not yet. Maybe she'll come? I mean, you're wearing a kilt."

Javier, apparently, is thoroughly ignoring the private investigator who's occasionally keeping tabs on him. Except for the fact that the next time Alexander happens to look over, the heavily tattooed cop locks eyes with him and winks. No smile, no sign of amusement or come hither about it. More like, I see you watching me, and now you know it.

Drink finished, he slides his empty onto the bar, and knocks his knuckles against it to summon the 'tender for a new one. "Four Horseman for my friend, too, por favor. Si. Sí, él puede manejarlo. Es más duro de lo que parece." A throaty chuckle follows from the Mexican, those same knuckles brushed against the blond's shoulder. "You're quiet tonight."

Isolde sneaks a glance towards Itzhak, casually keeping an eye out for him. Part of her wants to try talking to him but it just...doesn't feel like the right time or place. So she just gives another little smile, her touch of resolve withering and the smile turns on Alexander and Seth. "Yes, a second car is a good idea." Isolde agrees with a laugh. "If you decide to come." She agrees. She reaches out towards Alexander - not touching him, but gives his sleeve a light little 'it's okay' sort of tug. "I believe in you Alexander. It'll be a fine, fun trip."

Nodding to Seth, she chuckles again. "We shall and...you're right. We probably don't want to give a show. I'm sure these people don't want to be privy to that, from either of us." Since her own dress is rather short. She slips her hand into Seth's. "Let's dance!" Clearly pleased to be able to have an opportunity.

Itzhak is glad to both shake Dante's hand and kiss his cheek. So Continental! He totally learned that from Dante. "Thanks, pal. Happy New Year, yeah? You know I wanna hit that stage like the fist of an angry god." And he does! Just there's so much awkward shit right now, including Alexander, who he glances at with eyebrows tilted. A lot goes unsaid in the moment he's looking at him silently. "You too, huh?" is what he settles on. "Love the suspenders. And the hat."

Then he takes Cris's suggestion seriously and hikes his eyebrows at Dante. "Whaddya say, wanna go for a spin?"

"Wait, you're already planning a road trip, Clayton? Good for you, hermanos. Stretch Betty's legs, she hasn't been let loose in a while." Cris seems to be happy to keep Clayton company as his encourages Dante to dance with a quick, firm smack to the backside.

"Well, that depends. If you want to dance like that...." says Dante to Itzhak as he motions to three couples doing proper swing dancing to the music. "...I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint. But I think I can manage to shuffle along to the beat. I...oi!" he startles as Cris swats at him. "Cheeky. Hold my drink, then. Or drain it." He passes over half an Old Fashioned with a big chunk of bar ice in it, then motions towards the floor.

Alexander hmphs under his breath at Isolde. "Et tu, Isolde?" he mutters to her, but without any heat. His body is tense when she tugs at his sleeve, but he offers as close to a smile as he can manage. "We'll do our best to make it so, at least. You two have fun, and cut that rug apart." He stares at Itzhak, meeting his gaze unflinchingly, although his dark eyes are troubled. "Thanks," he says, quietly. Then those two look like they're heading onto the dancefloor, and he bobs his head at them.

Cris' question makes him jump, nervously. "Um. If that's okay? I'm still not sure...why. Or how long?" He lowers his voice to something that doesn't go any further than the two of them. "Am I gonna get shot at? Am I bait? I don't mind, but I won't invite Isolde if I am."

That's apparently a signal to finish his Cuba Libre in a hurry. Javier's the one to set the pace, tonight. Joe slants a wry look at the cop, lids drooping. "I sure can," he says. "And I sure am." More of a flat statement than his usual bravado. Like Itzhak, he's far from his usual self, when it comes to the gathering. Javier's comment has him giving a fractional shrug, accompanied by a moue. "Not much to say," he says, simply.

Chuckling at Alexander, Seth lowers his hand with a shrug when the PI ducks the pat. "Maybe. I don't know if 'kilt sense' is one of Vic's superpowers, but who knows in this town. Now, if you don't mind while I steal your date for a dance, I promise I will return her in short order."

Seth smiles at Isolde with a nod and leads her out onto the dance floor. The bouncer seems to know something about what he is doing, as he starts to move along in time with the given beat in short order. He doesn't do anything two flashy (no pun intended) as he moves with Isolde, keeping the movements rather tame to prevent the centrifugal force from having an adverse effect on his clothing.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just an apology, for me not being there at the right time when you were in the wrong place. But I can't keep my eye on everyone all the time under my charge. Say the word, and I'll even the score." But Cristobal takes the opportunity of Dante slipping away with Itzhak to pull something out of the inner pocket of his jacket, showing it to Alexander's eyes only what's small enough to fit in the palm of his hand after he fiddles with it. "Whaddya think?"

Vic is late, of course. She hates being late, but she had some things to take care of for "work". Not work at the Twofer either. But she makes her way into Sitka dressed to the nines in a glittery cream and gold gown that dips dangerously low in the front. Her hair is pulled back in the front, and runs in curling waves down her back. Her makeup is even tasteful. She's holding a little clutch purse in her hands, looking slightly out of sorts at all the super fancy of this party as her eyes sweep the room for familiar faces.

Alexander looks back towards Ruiz, like it's important to keep track of where in the room the cop is, and catches that wink. He flinches, ducks his head, and hastily looks away. Luckily, it's pretty close to Seth's comment, because the guilt and panic segues naturally into, "Isolde isn't my date. Isabella is. Isolde is a friend. But Isabella got kidnapped by community college faculty, and they're talking about the pottery of the Fertile Crescent. I can't, uh, contribute much to that conversation," he trails off into mutters.

But then Cristobal is talking to him, and he blinks. "I? What. No." A hint of exasperation. "I can even my own scores if I need to." He might actually move into irritation, but then Cristobal is sharing a secret and Alexanders can't resist secrets. He leans in and looks down, and smiles. "Ah. I see." He murmurs something under his breath to the other man, but it seems to be pleasant judging by his expression.

It takes a few seconds or so but Isolde gets into the rhythm with Seth's moments. Nothing flashy but it's still enjoyable. She hardly gets to dance as it is, so she's happy for the opportunity. "So, do you always where the kilt for parties?" It's a genuinely curious question as they dance. She would add a beat later, "Thanks for dancing with me too. " Hey, at least no feet are getting stepped on!

Itzhak offers Dante his arm and swags right on along to the dance floor. He's quite a good dancer in the way a musician can be, letting the rhythm move him, graceful in his own right. As he dances he loosens up significantly, grinning at the Brit and showing signs of having a good time. "Place looks gorgeous, drinks and food are fuckin' amazing, you outdone yourself!" he tells him over the music.

He's not going to press, apparently, as to the matter of Joe's silence tonight. The blond gets a long, lazy looking over from Ruiz like he's taking the other man's measure. Sussing something out about him without a word offered. Then again, the cop is an empath; it's not like he needs words to understand people.

His gaze shifts toward Itzhak, going up to dance with the Englishman. Then back to Joe. And he chuckles low. "You want to?" A hitch of his chin to indicate what he means. Dance.

"I don't know about that." Cris says with an unusual amount of uncertainty for such a cocky man. "He'll probably tell me to choke on it, in some properly British way, but when has being told 'no' ever stopped me." Whatever it was is tucked back away and his hand pats his chest pocket as if making sure it's secure. It's then he spots fancily dressed Vic, and his mouth twists wryly. "It's like fucking Halloween in here, all the costumes."

Dante has rhythm, as a competent musician. But as a Brit, he has enough self-consciousness (despite his peacocking nature) to stilt that rhythm. "Ah, so are we worrying about who is leading, or we just sort of...scratch that. You lead. I'll do m'best to not stomp on your feet." He laughs and positions arms in the appropriate way. The band moves into 'Don't Get Around Much Anymore' which is thankfully not 200bpm and thus easier to dance to. "And thank you. It's been an exhausting month. But worthwhile. I look forward to some time off, though. We're closing for two weeks after tonight."

Vic spots a face or two in the throng that she recognizes, and she claims a glass of the evening's cocktail before maneuvering over to where Alexander is. She nods to Cristobal with a tight smile, business associates and all. "Hey Cruz, Alexander Clayton, happy new year. How's things?" Her black eye and split lip have healed up thankfully. Her ribs may still be wrapped under that dress though. "Seen Seth around?"

"I disagree," Alexander tells Cristobal. "I think it will be the opposite of that," he says, with a quirk upwards of his lips. "Have faith." And then there's Vic, and his eyebrows go up. He reaches up to take off his hat and bow to her as she approaches. "Miss Grey. You look beautiful this evening. Things are okay." Another glance over towards Ruiz and Joe, then back. "He's dancing with Isolde." A gesture in that direction. "He's wearing a kilt," he adds, with a hint of tease to his voice.

"Guess we'll see. Place your bets, Clayton. This is a casino after all." Cris is behaving tonight, dammit. So he just sucks a noise against his teeth and responds with a mechanic, "Happy New Year." At Vic's tidings. He then nods over towards the dancing area at her question, "Follow the collective masses hoping there'll be a stiff sudden wind hard enough to lift up tartan...I gotta piss."

The invitation seems to startle Joe out of a bit of a reverie, and he turns a bemused blue stare on the younger man. A beat, and then he says, "Sure," before setting his drink down and offering his hand. Letting Javier lead, with no hesitation.

"Not always," Seth replies to Isolde with a chuckle as they dance. "Just when I feel like switching up the formal attire. I don't have very many reasons or chances to wear one, so when they arrive I might as well go for it." Seth keeps it simple, sticking mainly to dishrags, inside turns, and throwing in a shoulder slide or roll out cradle to break things up. "You're welcome. When there is a swing band...you have to dance. It's a rule or something, isn't it?"

Vic looks utterly amused by Alexander as he bows to her. "And you look positively snazzy. Isabella's doing I'm guessing?" she asks with a grin. "Elm street totally cleaning up good tonight, hm? And of course he's wearing it kilt. It's Seth." She looks over to where the enforcer is dancing with Isolde and wiggles her fingers in a little wave at him. "He's probably waiting for Rosencrantz to TK it up and flash the world." She watches Cris go without a single comment on her boobs and seems shocked. SHOCKED I SAY.

Alexander chuckles. "Good luck, Cruz," he says, quietly. He doesn't miss the chance in demeanors between Cris and Vic, and as Cris wanders off to take care of business, he raises an eyebrow at Vic. "Not fans of each other?" Then grins. "Yeah. I mean. She doesn't dress me," he's quick to claim. "But I wouldn't be at something like this if it wasn't a gift for her. Just something nice. How are you?" He studies her injuries. "You seem to be healing well."

Joe may be bemused, but Javier's dead serious. Surely the sailor doesn't think any self respecting Mexican doesn't know his way around a) a kitchen or b) a dancefloor?

Off they go then, once Joe's relinquished his drink. Not hand in hand, but the cop instead taking a firm grip on the taller man's sleeve, and nudging him forward until there's room to maneuver him into a quick shoulder slide and cradle. Then he'll catch at Joe's hands, lock eyes with him, and step in close as the band picks up. "You look like you want to be here tonight about as much as I do," he murmurs low.

"I don't think I've ever seen one in person. It looks cool." Isolde laughed. "Might as well take advantage of the chance." She agrees. Now and then she laughs or gasps as he does a certain move. As the song winds down she grins, pushing a few flyaway strands of hair out of her face. "Yeah for sure. You have to dance." She agreed, slowing to stop with the end of the first song even as the next one starts up. "Thanks again. I think I'm going to get a drink...maybe also a sparkler..."

"Yeah, I mean I don't know nothin' about the business but that makes sense, right? People are done spending money for a while." Itzhak is happy to lead, dancing Dante around, neat-footed and without giving a single bother. Then his attention is immediately drawn to Ruiz and Joe hitting the dance floor. He lights up in delight and possibly not a little bit of jealousy. "I get him next!" he calls to them, half-laughing, and holds Dante's hand up to urge him into a spin. "Just turn around in place, Taylor, there ya go!"

He's clearly out of practice....but he knows Javier well. So he's going along smoothly enough, and smiling despite himself. There's still that wryness to it. "Not so much for parties anymore," he says, simply. Then Itz is calling out to them, and Joe says, "Of course."

The problem with two tall guys dancing together is that an underarm tuck involves some reaching and ducking. But Dante manages to do it without falling over. He laughs at the awkwardness of it though. "Bloody hell. I'm glad I've only got two drinks in me, or that would've had me on my arse." He glances over at the new duo on the floor. "Well, that's a surprise. I wouldn't have pegged either of them for dancers. They seem more like the bar propping up types." The band is very good. The music is very tight and kept neatly in time, which makes it ideal for dancing to.

Now, the servers are circulating with sweet treats. Little dollops of rosewater sorbet on spoons, mini chocolate lava cakes, chocolate covered strawberries, dainty little cheesecakes.

"Almost good as new, thanks to all my dear friends treating me with copious amounts of pizza and coffee," Vic notes to Alexander with a wink. As to Cristobal, "No we get along fine. We just usually only see one another, ah, at the gym." Close enough. Her eyes snap to the servers with desserts, especially the chocolate stuff. Ok the cheesecake too. Basically anything but the sorbet because rosewater is gross. "Are we only allowed to have one?" she whispers to Alexander.

Seeing Vic out of the corner of his eye as he dances with Isolde, Seth smiles and returns the finger waggle wave. "Hey, Vic! Looking good!" he calls, probably inaudible over the sound of the swing music but the words could probably be inferred if anyone is good at reading lips.

"Well, they do certainly breathe." Seth chuckles, "Much more than a pair of pants anyway.

As the song ends he nods to Isolde, letting her go and giving her a little bow in gratitude. "Of course. Thank you for the dance! If you end up wanting another later, let me know. It was a pleasure, Isolde."

As Isolde departs to go get her drink, Seth makes his way over towards Vic and Alexander, lifting his hand in greeting as he approaches, "So apparently you do have kilt sense. Alexander suggested that you might just show up because I wore one. How are you feeling?" he asks as he casts a glance down towards her chest. Not really at her cleavage...ok, maybe a little bit at her cleavage.

Alexander, on the other hand, reaches immediately for the rosewater sorbet, and a strawberry, and a cheesecake. Then he blinks, wide-eyed, at Vic. "Um. I hope not." Then he shrugs and pops the cheesecake bite in his mouth. He makes a pleased noise as he eats it. "It's delicious. Try them all. I won't touch the molten cake, promise." It's teasing, and he winks at her. Then Seth is making his way back, and Alexander immediately looks beyond him, tracking Isolde's progress across the floor, as if checking on her. But he says, to Seth, "I know these things."

Cristobal returns from the restroom, snagging one of those strawberries off a platter as he moves (yes, he washed his hands like a good boy). He sights are back on the man in the crushed red velvet jacket. "My turn." He rumbles at Itzhak from just behind Dante's shoulder, holding a chocolate dipped fruit out to the lanky mechanic's mouth as some kind of parting gift.

"I definitely will!" Isolde smiled to Seth and then found a spot at the bar where she could sit and observe everyone while she indulges in one of the cheesecakes and a drink. Preferring to watch and listen for now it would appear. Mostly watching one person in particular but trying not to. She does managed to catch Alexander's eye and give him a smile to assure him that she's fine before focusing on listening to the music.

As Seth makes his way to them, Vic grins and grabs several items off the passing server's tray. When he reaches them, she leans up to kiss his scruffy cheek. "Yes, I have very strong kilt sense. And also I'm using magic to keep my boobs put in this dress. Hope you saved some dances for me." She offers a chocolate dipped strawberry to him before noshing on one herself.

Javier's not an amazing dancer. No formal training, and none of the liquid grace that some might possess. But what the man does have in spades is far more finely honed reflexes than anyone has a right to, at his age. Playing video games against him must be a nightmare. He moves like a cat, and isn't particularly built for swing dancing, but seems to know it passably enough.

By the time the song's done, he's built up a light sweat. Itzhak's flashed a grin in passing, and Joe's escorted back to the bar, a few words murmured in his ear as he's returned to his liquor.

Alexander catches Isolde's look, and smile, and returns it with one of his own. He looks like he might be about to excuse himself and go join her at the bar, but when Ruiz and Joe move in that direction, he catches himself, and steps back, instead, nearly backing into Seth. There's some awkward sidestepping and steadying of his little plate. "Er. Um. Sorry." He looks back at Vic and Seth. "He's only danced once. If he tries to claim he's tired, you can make disparaging comments about his stamina." A quick grin towards Seth.

"Are you kidding, de la Vega's a great dancer." Itzhak is so serious, too, he really does think that. One might wonder what he thinks Javier de la Vega can't do. When Cris arrives, Itzhak graciously passes Dante off to him. "You crazy kids have fun." He takes the strawberry, though via plucking it out of Cruz's fingers neat as a crow. Chompf he eats it in one bite while dancing off, apparently content to dance by himself a little. Seth's kilt gets a sideways glance, like he might be considering causing mischief.

"Of course you do, of course, you are, and of course I did," he says, returning the kiss to her cheek with a chuckle. He takes the strawberry and munches on it with an appreciative nod, casting a glance over at Alexander with a shake of his head. Swallowing the strawberry he looks over to the PI, "No problem. Everything ok?" the enforcer asks Alexander. "Did Alexander tell you, Vic? Someone lent him a car. He is going to drive to Seattle. I think I might follow in my just to see what happens...want to go with?"

"Well, hello. A bit rude, though. How do you know I didn't have someone else on my dancecard after Itzhak?" says Dante cheekily to Cris. The mechanic gets a wink and calls out, "Get yourself a drink on my tab, twinkle toes." And then he returns his attention to the man who's stolen him. "Do you know how to dance to this sort of music, darling?"

Joe, for his part, moves gracefully enough, no hint of stiffness or awkwardness, age and injuries not withstanding.....and there's that wordless rapport born more of years than Glimmer between them. As Javier leads him back to the bar, he's only faintly flushed, not even a hint of sweat. The cop leans in to whisper....and whatever he says has Joe jolting, eyes going wide. It takes a mouthful of whiskey for him to recover his composure, then he's nodding at Itzhak, as if reminding Javier that the fiddler is waiting.

When Joe and Ruiz head for the bar, Vic's cool blue gaze follows them a moment. "If someone bribes the band to play a salsa, de la Vega and I can school all of you," she quips to Alexander and Seth. She blinks at the word that Alexander is driving to Seattle. "What do you have going on in Seattle, Clayton? Do you need some backup?" she asks, concerned. She raises a hand to wave a little tentatively at Ruiz. She sips her cocktail and nudges Seth lightly. "Is that the only reason you're asking me along?"

Isolde is fidgeting something fierce with that charm bracelet, torn about something. Then she stands up and walks right towards where Itzhak is dancing, looking a little timid as she gets closer. As if her resolve is starting to slip again but she manages to get out, "Ah,uhm Hi. Do you...wanna dance?" She looks uncertain, as if she's expecting him to turn her down but it was worth a shot.

Cris' mouth parts barely as Itzhak takes the strawberry, as if to say something or merely taste the air. "That's the plan." As the mechanic tells them to have fun and then he's slipping into place with shift of his hips and a slide of his foot. "Do I know how to dance to this kind of music." He scoffs, but it's not swing dancing that he draws Dante into, but a slow sort of sway that doesn't match the up beat of the music.

Alexander blinks at Vic. "Um. Shopping? I don't think backup is required, but if you want to hold some bags, I won't say no..." He's teasing, and adds, more seriously, "Cristobal has loaned me his car. I thought I might go for a trip to Seattle. Can't walk there. Invited Isolde, and Seth thinks I'll crash the car, so he's going to follow in another car." There. That's explained about as coherently as he can. His eyes skip back towards Isolde as she moves to Itzhak. He watches, carefully.

Dante laughs. "Well, the answer is no, it seems. Swing is a little different, my Latin lover. Here..." He scoops a hand around Cristobal's waist, then holds his hand. "Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow. Four count. And this...is the beginning and end of my knowledge for how to dance to this sort of music. In case you were wondering." Next to them, a couple dressed in vintage style are really cutting a rug, including a few controlled aerials.

It's about fifteen minutes to midnight, and the army of servers are now circling with glasses of champagne and Christmas crackers for anyone who didn't get one with the sparkler cocktails.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Seth teases Vic, giving her a quick wink as he reaches out to one of the passing trays to snag a drink off of it. He ends up with something bubbly and lifts the flute to his lips for a sip. "Maybe it is just an excuse to get you alone...bwahahaha." He chuckles, looking over Ruiz and Joe's way as he tracks Vic's gaze that way, then tracks over to Isolde and Itz. When Alexander tells Vic that Cristobal is the one lending him his car, Seth almost chokes on his drink. "Brave man. I'm not sure I have the guts to loan you my car, but at least Itz can do any repairs."

"Sadly, I'm gonna be in charge of Two if By Sea for a bit, while Easton and Bennie take a much-deserved vacation away from Gray Harbor," Vic says with a sigh. "But if you feel you must babysit Alexander's driving prowess rather than keep me company...even though he drove to Portland just fine on his own..." she teases Seth.

With Joe deposited back at the bar, Ruiz is just about to head for where he last saw Itzhak, and make good on the request for a dance from the musician. But finds the guy's ex having beat him to the punch. He squints a little, tonguetip tracing the point of a canine, like he's trying to figure out whether this is something he needs to intervene in, or back off on.

Distraction comes in the form of a tall blonde enforcer who appears to be waving at him. He catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, flashes Vic something of an awkward smile, and glances away again.

There is a laugh startled out of Cristobal's throat as Dante takes the lead and draws them back into the rhythm of the music, "No, no, it's not..." Well, he really meant to wait until the official countdown, but he can't seem to draw this out until longer. He pulls Dante in tight again, muttering something low up to his ear. He keeps the proposal subtle, no getting down on one knee, but in case Dante thinks this was impromptu, there is a well thought out ring box being pressed into his hand.

Alexander frowns. "I'm a perfectly good driver," he says, and this time there's a snappish edge to it. He nods, firmly, to Vic's contribution. "And with a broken leg," he mutters. "And a rented car." A pause when Vic floats the idea of keeping her company instead. He clears his throat, and says, "I need a drink." It's not at all subtle, since he just turns and starts walking towards the bar. He glances sidelong at Cristobal and Dante, but just that. Otherwise, is a sort of meandering wander - he doesn't actually want a drink, or even to reach the bar.

Itzhak realizes Isolde is approaching, and then she asks him to dance, and his motion stutters to a stop. Suddenly he looks half terrified and half...something else. His hands come together and he rubs his knuckles in one of his anxious tells. "I, uhm. I. I, uh." Never does he sound so hesitant and uncertain, and he just stares at her, like it's junior high again and he has no idea how to cope with a girl asking him to dance.

That's the thing about that sailor - leaving him at a bar is like putting a sleepy toddler in a playpen. You know he'll be there when you get back. Joe's found his Four Horsemen and is working on that in favor of any offered drinks, nor has he picked up any of the little desserts.

But he's watching Isolde and Itzhak...and the fiddler's reaction has him peeling away from the bar and heading that way. "Itzil, Javier's waiting," he says, gently, before turning to Isolde and saying, tone still light, holding out his hand to her, "Isolde, shall we dance?"

Isolde studies Itzhak for a moment as he seizes up and she looks apologetic. Skin a little flushed again. It's probably a good thing that Joe comes up, because for all the progress Isolde has made? She's still not very prepared for this, despite wanting to be. Words don't quite seem to want to work so she just nods initially to the other man, taking Joseph's offered hand. Clearing her throat. "Right, sure, of course." She manages to get out.

Dante nearly steps on Cristobal's foot, he's so startled. His eyebrows lift high at the whisper. He pulls back and searches his face, like he's checking to see if it's a joke, or a flirtation. But then there's a ring box. "Cris, are you...?" He opens the box, then just kind of stares at it. Seeing as they've just come to a dead stop in the middle of the dance floor with a ring box in his hand, it's suddenly obvious what's happening - knee or no knee. "Darling, I...you'll have to forgive me. I never expected to be on the receiving end of this scenario." And there's an awkward laugh that follows. "Do you really...?" He's flustered. At a lost for words. That's a hell of an accomplishment. He looks down at the ring again and notices a certain detail. His eyes get a little bit...damp. The detail on the ring itself answers the question he was about to ask. And then, he leans in to murmur something to the other.

"Wait, what?" Seth exclaims as he turns his attention over to Vic fully. "Well, congratulations. That's cool! How long are they going to head out for? Do you want me to stay and keep you company?" He turns to Alexander and grins, "I will admit that does sound like the better option if I had to weigh the two. You can call if you run into an issue." As Alexander walks off, Seth chuckles at the not so subtle departure and returns his attention to Vic and offers out his hand, "You wanted to dance?" the enforcer says to the tall blonde, pausing as he looks out towards the dance floor. "Huh...something's going on."

Alexander goes very still when Joe approaches Isolde, his attention suddenly focused on the two to the exclusion of all else with a predator's fixed intensity. His hand, only just out of its brace, curls slowly into a fist. It hurts. He winces, and his attention is broken. He looks down at his hand, flexes it slowly, then takes a deep breath before looking away, and slinking to the far end of the bar away from Ruiz. He doesn't order a drink, just grabs a couple of tiny napkins and starts shredding them in quick, methodical motions.

"I think I do want you to stay and keep me company," Vic quips to Seth, accepting his hand. "I think it's about to be midnight though, so we may have to wait until after all the declarations of Happy New Year, before we try to break all our resolutions." She follows Seth's gaze to the dance floor and arches a brow. "That looks...matrimonial..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" snarls de la Vega, sharp enough to stop one of the musicians clear in his tracks. It takes the poor guy a minute to figure out where the hell he is in the music, once he manages to stop staring at the cop, hurriedly turn the page, and start playing again. Meanwhile, it might not be entirely clear what it is Javier's even talking about. Cutting a brief glance Joe's way, when the tall blond offers to dance with Isolde, he seems to think things are well enough in hand there for the time being, and mumbles to Itzhak, "I'm going to grab a smoke." And off he goes, prowling for the elevator like a man on a mission. A couple of people wisely get the fuck out of his way.

The saying goes you don't ask questions you don't already know the answer to. Cris, however, took the leap. For a moment he doesn't quite know which side of the coin Dante is going to land on, his lips drawing into a grim line like he's already trying to figure out his back up plan for the evening: namely who is getting punched. But there is the unabashed look of relief when Dante responds quietly in pretty admirable Spanish. Then his mouth splits wide in a lopsided grin that sits higher over one of his canines. "Yeah?" He asks, as if he didn't hear the man right, repeated again with a joyous note. "Yeah?" And then hands go up to roughly grip the side of the English writer's face and pulls him down into a celebratory kiss.

"Yeah, yeah it does." Seth agrees as he watches the couple on the dance floor. "Well, good for them!" He turns to Vic and smiles, "As for keeping you company, sold. Alexander can fend for himself. He's a big boy, and has a surprisingly good right hook."

And then de la Vega pipes up and is storming off, "Uh oh. Think that is going to be trouble?" the redheaded enforcer asks the tall blonde one. "Do you need to go calm him down or something?"

A lot is happening that Itzhak just doesn't know how to cope with; the glance he shoots Joe is grateful, for extricating him from a situation that actually has no threat or anything wrong with it except he doesn't know how to deal. De la Vega's snarl sure catches his attention, though, and he goes after him striding fast on long legs.

Vic narrows her eyes at Ruiz stomping off. She shakes her head slightly. "His boys are both here, pretty sure that's their job, not mine. Not sure what set him off." She frowns, but then looks at Seth and smiles warmly. "I'm glad you're staying. I need to use that shirtless handyman coupon so you can install my new hidden gun cache shelf. It arrives in a few days."

Someone yells, "Hey, did we miss midnight?" when they witness the rather enthusiastic lip-lock between Dante and Cris. But no, there's still a minute or two before the clock strikes twelve. He hooks an arm firmly around the other man's back and leans down. His other hand has death grip on the ring box.

Meanwhile, every empty hand that wants one has been given a glass of champagne. And then the countdown starts:

Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
ONE!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Some fancy yacht out in the harbour sets off a plume of fireworks as the clock strikes midnight, showering the interior of Sitka with pops of light and colour that dance off the silver tree.

The band starts up with 'Auld Lang Syne' a moment after midnight.

Alexander twitches at the sound of Ruiz's raised voice, unable to help looking in that direction. He tracks the older man's trajectory across the floor, but doesn't move from his lurking spot. He just rubs his hand over his face and sighs, then goes back to scanning the room. Noticing the countdown, he curses under his breath, and disappears into the crowd to find Isabella.

Joe's glance after Javier is sharp, but he doesn't leave Isolde standing. A nod at Itz, as if approving the fiddler deciding to go see what's up, then he turns back to Isolde. His touch is gentle, perfectly proper, as he takes one hand, settles the other at her waist. It takes him a moment to search out a piece of small talk that might do....and before he can bring it out, there's the countdown. So he simply says, "Happy New Year," before leading out into a simple foxtrot. He doesn't know how much she knows, so Ballroom 101 will have to do.

Isolde is quiet, her attention shifting to the small commotion on the dance floor between Dante and Cris. Head tilting lightly as she makes an 'Aww' sound. Her gaze quickly cuts to Ruiz, clearly startled by the outburst. A peek back to Itzhak as he hurries after Ruiz and then looks back to Joseph. "Do you need to go after them?" Though it gets drowned out with the countdown. "Happy New Years." She offers him a quirk of a smile and lets him lead. She follows along easily enough with the movements. What a way to start the New Year.

Ruiz isn't even around long enough to reach the end of the countdown, or the popped corks. He struggles out of his ridiculous suit jacket, glad to be rid of the thing, loosens his tie, and the doors to the elevator close on three just as Itzhak manages to squeak past. Happy New Year, Gray Harbour. Happy New Year, indeed.

Somewhere in the back of his thoughts, Cris hears Ruiz' cuss, and knows he should probably check and make sure as an enforcer by trade, he won't have to bounce out whoever has drawn the Chief's ire. But that can wait at least another few moments, at least until the fireworks and poppers have faded and the kiss is parted with a contented smile and a rub of his thumb over Dante's beard. "*Feliz ano nuevo, mi Luz."

Seth nods to Vic, keeping his eyes on the exit that Ruiz stormed out of for a moment longer, only turning back around when Vic starts talking about the shirtless installation. Chuckling, Seth nods. "Let me know when it shows up and I will bring my toolbelt over and install it into your place. I swear by the few I have around, though Alexander found them right off the bat."

The countdown starts and Seth turns to Vic with a smile, he leans down to give her a peck on the cheek when the countdown hits one. "Happy New Year."

After 'Auld Lang Syne, the band moves into 'Moonlight Serenade'. That turns out to be just perfect post-proposal and midnight. Dante looks Cris in the eye and then pulls him in close to sway to the soft music. "Now I'm very glad I booked a high roller suite tonight," he murmurs.

There's still more party to come. This is the big band's last song, but then the jazz trio is back. The servers are still passing goodies, though the pace has slowed. The main event may be over, but the party isn't.

Vic turns to Seth as the countdown begins, and she shouts out the numbers along with it, toasting to the new year with a raise of her champagne glass. When Seth moves to kiss her cheek, she turns to catch it on her lips, because it's tradition, and he's hot and in a kilt, so sue her!

"They'll be fine," Joe says, still in that gentle voice. The faintly rueful look is back, but he shows no sign of impatience as they sway through the steps. Gazing down into her face, as if he might gauge something there, almost expectant - not particularly paying attention to the party at large.

"And it saves me from having to take my car keys back from Clayton." Cris really didn't think that one through, having no escape route if things had gone sideways. Bad little Teamster. "Can I drag you off now by the belt loops or do you need to stay for close up?" As if he'd be that patient be the dark look in his eyes, he can barely concentrate on dancing.

Isolde's expression is a little difficult to read as they dance. Quiet, contemplative. Finally, she speaks. "I'm sorry." As if she owed an apology at all to anyone. "Can you...tell him that for me?" No need to specify who him is supposed to be. "I didn't mean to make him freeze up and stuff." Lowering her gaze slightly from Joe's.

"My dear, I was off the clock as of 10 PM," says Dante as his wide shark-smile makes a cheeky appearance. His eyes widen. There might be some subtle guyliner on, but that's actually a normal thing for him. He's oblivious to any storming out of the room, or empty trays, or skipped notes by musicians. He's only got eyes for the man in front of him.

"I can't accept it on his behalf, but I will pass it along," Joe says, still mild as milk.....and certainly far more somber than he'd generally be with that much liquor in him. "I know you didn't, and I'm sure he does, too." A beat, his lips parted as if he'd say something further, but then he leaves it at that.

"No." Isolde says pointedly, seeing him not follow through with his words. "Say what's on your mind." She's a big girl, she can take it. "I want to know. And this might be the only opportunity we have to talk freely. So...say it."

Pulling back after the kiss, Seth grins down at Vic and moves to slip his arms around her waist. "Well, Happy New Year indeed," he says with a chuckle. "I believe I still owe you a dance. Shall we? How are you with swing dancing?" Seth looks out to the dance floor and then back to Vic, "Sorry to see something like that cause drama. I can only assume there is a history there? Seems everyone has a history here..."

Cris glances aside, running his thumb and forefinger around the edges of his mouth and facial hair looking smugly guilty because there's not a person in the room he's about to pause and say goodbye to. He about to pull a good ole Irish Goodbye to the party, only with the latino flare of doing it to get busy. "Fuck yeah, let's go." And then his hand snags Dante's and starts dragging him off to the back employee exit to the back halls and service elevators.

"I know salsa, swing not so much, but I can follow a lead just fine," Vic says with a chuckle, draining her glass of champagne and setting in on a passing waiter's tray. She lets him lead her to the floor. "Who the fuck knows? I haven't been here long enough to know what everyone's role is in this soap opera we call Gray Harbor. Dance with me, handsome, just go easy on me, ribs are still tender. Plus, the whole club doesn't need to see under your kilt." She winks.

His brows go up, at that. Joe's not wearing his glasses, this evening. "I'm wonderin' what you want, and what you intend there," he says, bluntly. There's no rancor in his tone, no accusation. As if he had any right to ask, but then.....doesn't he? Then he adds, "And why might this be the only opportunity? You not leavin' town again, are you? I mean, I'm old, but I do have a phone, I can even text," he adds, with a teasing little grin. "Hard though that may be to believe."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I told Isolde when I was dancing with her earlier. Had to keep it tame so the Centrifugal force doesn't reveal too much." Seth says with a laugh as he leads Vic out onto the dance floor. "I'll take it easy for both our sakes."

"I just...I don't know. I don't want to try and like, get in the way of whatever you three got going on." Isolde clarifies. "I just want him to know that my leaving wasn't his fault. Our split...wasn't completely on him. I don't know if it's possible for us to be friend again but I'd like to be." Isolde gives a light shrug of her shoulders, looking up at Joe again. A touch of a smile quirking on her lips again. "I'm not going anywhere. I just...am still trying to figure out where I fit again. Now that I am back."

There's that faintly sardonic glint in his eyes, for all that his tone stays feather-light. "You couldn't," he says, simply. "Even if you did want to. And that's the impression that I got, but I'll relay that, if you want me to....or just keep it to myself. And I couldn't say, when it comes to y'all bein' friends again. I wish you luck with it, an' with findin' somewhere here to belong." Which is more than he's been able to do himself, he refrains from adding.

"Right." Even though Isolde was sincere about not wanting to get in the way, it took every fiber of her being not to roll her eyes. "I'll...leave it to you." She decides. "Tell him if you want, or don't. The primary thing I would like relayed is that I am sorry for tonight." She slows to a stop as the music winds down and offers up more of a smile. "Thanks...we'll see. Thank you for the dance Joseph." Letting her hands fall back to her own person. "I think I'm going to head home, but I hope you have a good night."