Starring:
Summary: Club 14G opens! A drama-free opening! …Almost.
Date It Happened: March 24, 2007
Opening Night
Club 14G, New York
It's opening night and the curtain is up. The reserved seats are full and there are just a few tables left! There's a small scale orchestra taking up the majority of the stage. What's left of space on the stage contains a microphone stand and baby grand piano. The band is already tuned up and performing 'Mack the Knife' to get the crowd entertained and warmed. There are no utterances of 'good luck' amongst the staff of the club. Those two words are a big no-no in this portion of town. It's break a leg! Servers are already kept busy with the first round of drinks, and people are steadily being seated.
Dressed in a nice black cocktail dress, Tabitha is already working the crowd and welcoming guests personally. There should be a few familiar faces in the crowd, celeb, local personalities and perhaps a politician or two!
Though she doesn't have a personal invitation or anything, the opening of a new jazz club is something that Cass just cannot pass up. Leaving someone else in charge of closing up the shop, she's come clothing prepared tonight and is dressed in a nice flouncy beige skirt and a black top veined with gold thread. Her hair is parted to the side and a nice clip pushes it off to the side. Nothing like jazz and a couple of cocktails to cheer a gal up! Already inside, she's trying to find an unoccupied table where she can sit herself and her long island iced tea.
Ramon Gomez is not normally the social type. And when he slinks in like someone escaping some sort of particularly harsh gauntlet, he /still/ doesn't look particularly social. He did shave though, and put on a nicer jacket and pair of slacks over a white shirt, and ditched the lanyard. His immediate thought, upon stepping in, is that he's going to spend way too much money in here. His sudden grimace says he doesn't even care, he's coming in.
Ms. Mitch Kaminski (yes, that's right, /miss/) is nothing if not clever. And crafty. Like a fox! So she'd like to think. No paparazzi allowed, huh? Tabitha "you're a reporter wannabe who wouldn't know talent if it bit her on the nose, Kaminski" Tempest. Well, well, well. Mitch'll show HER.
Expecting Tabitha to be the friendly, bubbly celeb she is and greet people who enter her fancy club and foil the "lurky-lurk" angle, the underhanded little trash journalist has devised a plan - a plan that involves walking in the front door. At the entrance of 14G is a young… man?… in a very nice charcoal suit with modern lines, a white dress shirt, a loosely donned, slender black tie, a fedora, and large, dark sunglasses that cover a delicately-featured face. Delicately-featured because it's /Mitch/, who despite her namesake, is a girl, but her disguise is pretty killer. She's rocking the faux 'stache tonight and is doing her best to walk like a dude.
Steven walks in nervously, wiping a small drop of sweat from his forehead. He didn't think that fake ID he got last night would work on the bouncers of a fancy, smancy, place like this, but his love for Jazz pushed him to try and get in. A little proud of his accomplishment, the boy takes one of the few seats in the house left unoccupied at the bar.
Her presence here tonight is strictly personal, but that doesn't mean Yael's brain ever quite switches out of professional mode. As she steps through the door into the club, dressed in an off-white and black dress with her hair tied back into a mess of curls, she keeps an attentive eye on the other guests. …one of whom is Mitch, who just so happens to be walking into the club a little ways ahead of her. Tipping her chin down, one of her eyebrows arches high, her attention transfixed by the odd… man?… ahead of her. She has her suspicions, but unfortunately for her, she has no one to voice them to. Alas!
Tabitha isn't exactly flirting with her guests, she's being bubbly and.. okay, yes, she's flirting and being the ever so charming hostess. (And the bouncer who let in the fake ID? So getting fired when found out. Ahem.) Thus far, Tabitha is unaware of the two reporters who weren't on the press list. *sigh* Done talking to a fellow Broadway co-star, she practically skips her way up onto the stage and to the microphone. The band stops playing for the moment as she does. Her speaking voice fits her diminutive stature. High pitched and on the girly side! "Hello everyone and welcome to 14G. I'm so glad to see such a crowd on opening night. That's always a good sign." She says with a wink to the audience. "I hope this is a good start to a successful run here in New York! Now, on with the show!" She gives a dramatic flourish with her arms at the band, and they kick up playing again. "As you listen to the band don't you get a bubble? As you listen to them play don't you get a glow? If you step out on the floor you'll forget your trouble. If you go into your dance, you'll forget your woe! So: Come get together. Let the dance floor feel your leather. Step as lightly as a feather. Let yourself go!," she begins to belt out, showing that her singing chops isn't as girly.
As she's still trying to find a seat, Cass steers her way through the crowd, trying to be mindful of her drink. And her feet. The last time she tripped, she knocked a guy unconscious. She still feels bad about that. So, this time she's decided to not partake in any of her drink until she's firmly planted into a seat and plans to stay there for awhile. As she weaves, she goes left, she goes right, she gets pushed and stumbles a couple of steps and finds herself…right in front of Ramon. Talk about a surprise. "Ramon!" Blink. "Hi!" She's never seen him outside of Enlightenment Books, so this is a little surreal for her. As Tabitha makes her greetings, the store owner spots a table and quickly goes lurching for it, gesturing for Ramon to follow her if he cares to.
"Hola bonita," Ramon says, with a hint of a crooked grin tugging at his features. He straightens a little. Between the music and a familiar, friendly face, the man suddenly /is/ forgetting a little bit of woe. His foot tap tap taps to the music. He reaches out a hand to steady her elbow, as she's stumbling, but leaves just enough room that she can avoid his hand if she wants to. When she lurches for this table, he follows her.
Behind the shield her dark glasses provide, Mitch eyes her surroundings critically. It's night time, and she's indoors, and she's wearing sunglasses. Maybe she — make that "he" — is just particularly hip, okay? Tucking her hands into her pockets, hitching her thumbs, she wanders toward the bar while Tabitha breaks into song, casting glances to the stage now and then. When she reaches the bar, she hesitates for a second. Crap. What do guys drink? She blanks illogically, until— "Uh, Tom… Collins." It's a man's name, so it's the first thing she thinks of. She says it in her manliest voice possible and hits pretty deep, which is a feat, given her normal high timbre.
Yael, too, is headed for that particular table at the very same time as Ramon and Cass, given that it's one of very few that are left with any seating available. She's poised to get there first, too, and secure herself a seat… when her foot catches on the fabric of another patron's dress. There is no grace in the way that she falls once she takes a step, unaware of her hindrance until it's all too late to do anything to stop it. To her credit, the little yelp of surprise she lets out is restrained, suggesting that this is nothing particularly new to her. Stumbling forward, Yael falls flat onto the edge of the table, then slips down until she's lying awkwardly on two of the empty chairs. "…ow," she mutters beneath her breath, picking herself up slowly.
Steven tries his best to blend in with the other patrons at the bar with his finely tailored off-white dress suit with matching white 'gator shoes. He decides not to press his luck by ordering alcohol, so he simply asks for a glass of water over his shoulder so he doesn't reveal his 18-year old face to the bartender. As the band begins to play, he steadily bops with the beat, enjoying the sound of some "good ole' fashioned Jazz" and watching the other listeners in the club, not really noticing the guy (?) ordering the "Tom Collins" next to him. But he does notice the woman taking a dive near one of the tables, however the table is too far for him to help her anyways so he just winces as he imagines her embarrassment.
As the music plays, Tabitha stays at the microphone, but not remaining still. "Come hit the timber. Loosen up and start to limber. Can't you hear that hot marimba? Let yourself go!" She goes into a little dance there in place on stage, losing herself in the music. Gesturing and swaying as appropriate with the lyrics, she finishes up the song, "Let yourself go. Relax. And let yourself go. Relax. You've got yourself tied up in a knot. The night is cold but the music's hot! Sooooo come cuddle closer. Don't you dare to answer no, sir. Butcher, banker, clerk and grocer.." Then with a flourish, the final three words are drawn out with the music as it swells to a finish, "Let.. yourself.. gooooo!" The song draws out to a close and with her arms wide and a smile on her face, Tabitha sees Yael go splat. She keeps that smile firmly planted as she says into the microphone, "Now it's the conductor's choice.. and c'mon people don't be shy! There's this big dance floor out here that needs breaking in!" She steps away from the microphone and picks her way down to the floor as the band strikes up 'Rhapsody in Blue'. Sort of scuffling, as one can't run in heels, Tabs makes her way to check on Yael. "Oh my goodness, are you okay?" That's all she needs, opening night, some yutz hurts herself and she gets sued!
Forgetting woes is exactly what's brought Cass to this club tonight and the music is quite catchy. She doesn't shake off Ramon's arm, someone making sure she doesn't fall is probably a good idea. Bobbing her head in time to Tabitha's words, she slides into a seat and lets out a grateful sigh. It's crowded and she's glad to have snagged a seat. However, that lovely quiet is quickly ruined when Yael goes flying forward and almost faceplants right into the seats opposite her. "Woah!" Cass is immediately up to assist Yael back to her feet. "That looked like it hurt. You okay?" Well versed in the act of klutz, she knows from experience the pain.
And as Cass jumps up so does Ramon, to put out another hand to steady her elbow. He can't help it. His default mode is Guard Dog. It just happens that way. If Cass wants to rescue those who are tripping then he will be right there to ensure she does not faceplant while doing it.
Mitch takes her drink when it's concocted, giving the bartender a smile and a head-tip. She's just turning around to lean oh-so-casually against the bar, more or less in the middle (to blend in, be one with the crowd, not suspicious at all, just a dude at a bar) when Yael takes a tumble. Instead of sympathizing, she snorts loudly at the spectacle, almost breaking into a laugh, but she puts a lid on it just in time. Good thing, too, because there is /no/ way she could have made her girly laugh any less girly. Perhaps through karma, however, she nearly chokes in her efforts not to outright laugh at another person's unfortunate clumsiness, sputtering. Ahem. She clears her throat and glances sidelong at Steven. "'Sup." You saw nothing.
Stupid extended shifts. Samantha had to make a mad dash for the club, and re-applied her makeup in the cab, and spends a few moment confirming her reservation before she is shown to a small table.
Picking herself up from the seats, Yael offers an apologetic look to each of the people who came to help her - Tabitha in particular, since it's her club and all. "I'm fine," she replies dismissively, her accent readily apparent, her cheeks a nice rose colour that would suggest that she's more than a little embarrassed. "I'm okay. Thanks." Once she's back on her feet again, she sucks in a deep breath and shakes her head, both hands trying to fix strands of hair that have gone awry in the spill. "That was embarrassing." To each of her would-be saviors, she gives a swift, kind smile.
"Hey, man," Steven gives a slight "What's up, dude?" nod to Mr. Collens/Daniels/Turkey/Whatever. Although he could hear the slight femininity in the man's voice, Steven quickly dismissed it, besides he was cool with people who chose alternative life styles, "Did you see that faceplant? Ouch!" he jokes,now that he knows she's ok, elbowing the guy/girl next to him playfully.
Tabitha pulls out a chair at the table. "Here, you just have yourself a seat and your drink is on the house." Please don't sue! She snaps her fingers at a passing server and gestures for him to come to the table. "Whatever this lady here wants," she says with a beaming smile at Yael, and oh, not to leave out the other two at the table, "And her friends here." The band on stage continues playing, smoothly going into another Gershwin tune.
Luckily for Ramon, Cass manages to stay on her two feet as Yael doesn't really need her help to get up. Standing awkwardly now with nothing to do, she just moves for her seat again just to make sure no one else can take it. "No problem. I've done that before, so I sympathize." Tabitha's generous offer is taken with surprise and a grin. "Thanks!" she beams to the owner. She already has a full glass of long island iced tea, but she might as well make it two if she's not going to pay for it. Now that the excitement is over, she turns back to Ramon to actually talk to him properly. "So, how are you doing, Ramon?"
Samantha straightens up a moment, peering this way and that, lifting her hand to offer a brief wave to Tabitha. She cocks her head inquiringly; is everything alright? But she otherwise settles back into her chair, and orders a spritzer from the cocktail waitress.
Ramon grunts. And then says, "More interested in how you are. Its nice to see you out of the shop. We kept saying we'd meet up and things kept getting — " he lets the sentence trail off primarily because words just aren't his thing. He's having trouble picking a good one. He orders up a Jack Daniels and leaves it at that. Nothing fancy.
"UH." That would be Mitch getting elbowed unexpectedly by the guy who is unexpectedly talking to her (so what if she spoke first). It's only surprise, not injury or anything near it. She recovers quickly, slinging an arm over the bar behind her casually. "Yeah, what a klutz," the woman dressed like a guy comments to the minor, using her half-convincing fake man voice, glancing the way of Yael and the cluster of folks she fell into. Pause. Pause. Pause. "But uh, she's pretty hot though. Am I right?" She sips her Tom Collins.
Taking her seat quickly, before any other mishaps have a chance to land her on the floor again, Yael finds herself at a table now with Ramon and Cass. Two complete and utter strangers. Interesting. When Tabitha offers them drinks on the house, she flashes the owner an appreciative smile. "Martini," she asks of the server, before turning back to Cass and Ramon with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, again. I promise I wasn't trying to steal the table. I'm here by myself anyway. Do you mind if I stay? I'll try not to eavesdrop, there just aren't very many seats."
"Umm," Not wanting to give his age away by saying she's too old, Steven simply remarks with a phony grin, "Yeah…if you're in to that sorta thing…" What sort of thing? He has no idea. He simply takes a sip of water, trying to appear casual as he quickly changes the subject, "But, this seems to be a nice place. What a crowd!" he exclaims with a smile.
Tabitha stands up straight, now that all seems to be well with Yael's spill and the other two. Samantha's wave is seen, and returned with enthusiasm. All's well here! Ramon's given a wide grin, "Just Jack Daniels? Well, aren't you just a straight forward guy!" She circles the table on her way back to the stage, delivering a light touch to the man's shoulder in passing. Up on stage, the band segues into another tune as Tabitha steps back up on stage and is joined by a man, looking rather suave and arrogant in a suit. She resumes her spot at the microphone and throws the man a fond look, full of longing. Her hands raise to caress the mic as she begins to sing, "There he goes as usual, my man.. Breaking my foolish heart. I really don't know what to do about him. I've told my self I've got to do without him.."
Samantha settles back, content to let the music watch over her, and not knowing to be sad she'd missed the vaudeville slapstick, but if she had known, she totally would be sad!
Though he spent the afternoon tending his pub, this evening finds Jack out and about once again. With news of a new spot opening up, it's in his best interest to look over the competition. The rumpled outfit he was wearing earlier has joined the ever-growing pile of laundry in his office. Now he's got on a flashier black-on-black suit with a matching tie, which he impatiently tugs straight as he steps through the door and makes for the bar, his favorite place at any club. His order's simple, the same he's had since arbitrarily deciding it was bourbon that was giving him headaches, not the quantity he drinks it in. "Vodka. Rocks. Double."
"I'm fine!" Cass replies flippantly and without thinking. "Busy. You know. The usual." Sort of. "I'm glad I ran into you. I wanted to talk to you about something." Glancing over, she sees that Yael is taking a seat at the table that she worked hard to secure, she adds, "Later. Stop by the store and we'll talk." Turning to Yael, she gives the girl a warm smile and shakes her head. "No no, please. Join us. It's crowded and I think you earned a seat. It'll be less dangerous." Speaking from one who knows. The music starts up again and there's just enough of a pause that Cass catches some of the lyrics. The smile falls from her face as she listens to Tabitha's song for a moment before she sets it back in place.
"As long as you don't mind when I ask her to dance," Ramon tells Yael. There's another smile sort of quickly flashing across his face. Its not an expression that's accustomed to be there. Then? The man takes off a Swiss Army Knife. He puts it on the table and nods to it. "Cass, bonita, if you'll just take those death trap shoes off I'll fix them for you and then if you want to dance, well then we can…well we could. If you wanted to. Do some dancing. Of course I know you can dance in those shoe…" Ramon suddenly downs his shot of J.D. And looks at Yael like — I know I'm crashing and burning. You're a woman. Do something and help me.
"…Yeah…" Mitch is giving Steven a very weird look, but it's hidden - perhaps thankfully - behind those sunglasses. Still, the expression strikes her lips in the form of a slight sneer. "It's…" Her Broadway-dar goes off when the club owner starts singing again. She quirks a brow - also hidden, behind the glasses the brim of her fedora. "…great," she deadpans. She slips a cell phone from her pants pocket and surreptitiously presses a button while she angles it toward the stage. "Wait. What, man?" she queries Steven belatedly after getting caught up in— um, totally not recording Tabitha's dramatic performance. "If you're into what sorta thing?" Pause. "Chicks?"
"Are you sure? I could go sit at the bar, but I've had enough excitement at a bar for today, I think," Yael replies to Cass, still holding onto some vague embarrassment thanks to the fall. She listens to the exchange between Ramon and Cass with an amused expression, sympathy in her eyes when Ramon stumbles over his words while trying to ask his companion to dance. "I think your friend here would like to dance with you. You should. It's not every day you get to dance to--" Yael doesn't recognize the song, but she cants her head, listening to the lyrics for a few seconds. "--a song about your lover breaking every rule of a relationship."
"Um, no…short girls?" Steven says, sounding a little unsure as he takes another sip of his drink. He turns briefly towards the stage as Tabitha continues her singing, enjoying the wonderful Broadway performance. He then looks back and notices the guy(?) recording the stage, "Going to post this on Youtube or something?" Steven asks sarcastically over his shoulder, chuckling at his own little quip.
And indeed, there is much vaudeville slapstick to be had in this number. Tabitha and her male counterpart on stage go through the whole routine. The guy being the straight man.. and Tabitha.. playing the straight woman who just happens to be scorned as she sings the tale and basically abuses the poor guy on stage. (Of course it's all stage acting.) "If you had been on the square and had treated me fair. And wed not had a tiff. If you had not said I should go and jump right off the nearest cliff. If you had stayed off the make and you never had taken to coming home stiff. If I hand not smelled perfume with a nasty unfamiliar whiff! I'm gonna miss you, baaabyyy! Things could've been teriff! Ah, whats the diff"
While the bartender hasn't caught on to Steven being here on a fake ID, he did catch that comment. A sharp look is thrown at Mitch, "Hey! No recording allowed in here! Put that away or I'm calling security!"
Samantha lets out a laugh as she listens to the music, completely oblivious to the farce going on off-stage, more out of confusion/uncomprehension/non-processing. Fortunately, the farce on stage is thoroughly entertaining.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Queens…
Her father, the maniac. At least, that's what Elena was thinking when she came back to the apartment and found a note tacked on the door. It is in Spanish, but the words are unmistakable and blunt. It was, really, the Espanol equivalent of 'Went to Girl in 14G. BRB.' Of course, with the club's name being what it is, she automatically thinks that it's a strip joint. What? The G could mean G-string! Yet again continuing into the erratic pattern of behavior that her father has engaged in for the last few weeks. Eric was out of commission. Drake was under 18. Jane was playing a gig. Cass wasn't picking up at Enlightenment Books, and Sam was probably busy snogging her hot A-list actor boytoy. So when she's down to another name on the list, she groans. He's going to think she's crazy.
She dials the number. "….hi. Randall? It's Elena. Are you busy tonight? Because this is going to sound -completely- random and I think I need to save my dad from himself. Again."
Which leads her, eventually, to the club, waiting outside for Randall and already wearing her 'I'm So Sorry I'm Acting Like A Crazy Person' expression whenever she sees him.
Fortunately for Elena, Randall has a special quality about him that would have not yet made her list, namely that people think /he's/ crazy /all the time/. Well, not everyone, but enough people. And so he's happy to oblige Elena when she invites him on a non-date. (He has to quit his job at the consignment shop to make it, but it was short-term employment anyway; all this did was shorten the term a little earlier than planned.)
It actually looks like a classy joint, but it's kind of dark outside. And the sign outside says 18+ and over, though she'll probably get stamped at the back of her hand to tell the bartender not to serve her anything alcoholic. Not like she would deign to anyway. Whenever she sees Randall step around the corner to head over to her, she smiles, and pushes off the wall to hop on over to him. "Sorry for the short notice, I know you were working. Did your boss just let you off like that?" Elena inquires. Whatever she's wearing, it's obscured by a fitted, extremely warm black coat that looks brand new. Her days get weirder, as the coat had been an anonymous gift, dropped off the Gomez residence.
Cass looks down at her shoes and then up at Ramon, raising an eyebrow. "Um…" she looks to where Tabitha is singing and then grins at the older man. Kicking off her shoes at the table, she nods at him. "Come on, let's go cut it up." Turning to Yael, she laughs. "No no, stay. Watch my shoes, if you wouldn't mind. And make sure no one drugs our drinks." Taking a generous sip of her long island iced tea, she holds out a hand for Ramon to take.
Moments later, Jack has a glass of vodka in hand and is free to check out the club as a whole. He smirks at the bartender's rant and pushes away to amble about and mingle. For the first time in weeks, the premature wrinkles at his brow and mouth have completely relaxed. He actually looks his age, rather than that of a man ten years older. The crooked, mischievous smile he used to wear so often is back in evidence as well. Lost in thought, he near-collides with the table that now only Yael is sitting at. Fortunately, he possesses more physical prowess than an eggplant(unlike some Casses and Yaels) and he's able to prevent any serious incidents. "Hey Cohen. Fancy seein' you again." He plops his drink down and settles into a chair.
A relieved Ramon leaves his Swiss Army Knife behind. He takes Cass' hand. "I'm a little rusty," he rumbles in warning, then grimaces. He seems to decide his best course of action in all the world is to shut the heck up. He leads Cass out onto the dance floor, looking for all the world like he's wondering whether he shouldn't have had another Jack Daniels before attempting this.
"Riiiight." Mitch takes another sip of her drink; it's actually pretty good! The incognito stalkerazzi stays at the bar beside Steven, given her lack of a reserved table - or non-reserved table. Wow. This place /is/ crowded. She almost looks impressed as she scans it over. Almost. Not that you can tell. Her righteous indignation when the bartender calls her out, though? That's obvious! She tucks the phone away, holding up a hand innocently. "Uh. No," she denies coolly to Steven and the bartender both. "No, no, man. It's so I can watch it at home later," she bluffs on the spot without thinking well enough through; she tips her head toward the stage at the very diminutive Tabitha. "/I/ like short girls. Yeah. Uh. They're like. Feisty little… … kit… tens? Uuuh, I have to go to the men's room," she babbles and just starts to high-tail it out of there, though she remembers to adopt a manly swagger once she gets a few feet away. She takes her drink with her.
Entirely aware that her remark to Ramon did very little to help the situation, Yael can't help but snicker a little bit at the pair with whom she's sharing the table. "Shoe-sitting, I can manage," she assures Cass, drawing the pair of shoes nearer to her as Cass heads off to take tot he floor with Ramon. She's alone just long enough to have her martini brought over when Jack speaks, and she looks up to her new acquaintance with a smile. "Well, well. I didn't expect to see you here." She arches a brow, taking a sip of her martini. "Did your girlfriend find a new dress for me to ruin tonight?"
"Yeah, sure," Randall replies to Elena as he walks up, figuring that telling the truth will come off as creepier than it really is. "People swap shifts all the time, someone comes down sick at the last minute or whatever." He squints and looks around, absently fishing out his ID as the doorman asks to double-check it. "I'm not underdressed for this, am I? What exactly are we looking for?" He perks up some as he overhears the choice of live entertainment: okay, that's one definite plus in the club's book there.
Steven shrugs as his bar mate walks towards the restroom. Now, having no one to talk to he turns his full attention to the stage and dance floor, enjoying the show and watching a couple of people on the dance floor make fools of themselves, i.e. Ramon
"My father," Elena grumps. "He got into a bit of trouble a couple of nights ago and I'm here -hoping- it doesn't happen again. I don't even know what he's doing in a place like this…" She was still a little angry at him for the last few nights's shenanigans. He almost got arrested! She flashes her ID as well, and the bouncer, or whoever's at the door gives her a look, and stamps the back of her hand. No drinky here. Randall's legal though so he has no problem getting in. "And that's okay, we'll be underdressed together." She folds an arm chummily around his and mutters so only he could hear. "I'm wearing a pink t-shirt that says 'Talk Nerdy To Me' so whatever you're wearing, I probably beat it in terms of sheer dorkiness." When she enters the swanky pub, the urge to keep her coat on is ….well. Overwhelming, but she does do a quick scan of the club.
Cass laughs, but not in an unkind way. "It's okay. I have two left feet," she assures Ramon. Oh, why did they have to start dancing to /this/ song about peoples hearts being broken. Oh well, it'll keep her mind off of Lachlan. Despite her excuses, Cass is actually good on the dance floor and manages to not trip all over herself.
"Ahh, fuck her if she can't take a joke," is Jack's chuckled reply to Yael's query about Eliana's dress. "I gave her enough cash to get her outta my hair for the day, that's what's important." With the casual precision of someone long accustomed to questionable meetings and dubious card games, he scans first the crowd, then the dance floor. His grey eyes light up when he spots Cass dancing. "That's my friend," he points to the woman. "She's on the outs with her guy, so it's good to see her smilin' and dancin'. You know the bloke she's with?"
Cass is good. Ramon is bloody awful. He awkwardly follows her and spends a lot of time watching her feet to make sure he doesn't stomp them. But he does chance a quick smile at her as he rumbles, "Well you make me look good, anyway." He's oblivious to his daughter and her Nerdesque Teeshirt entering the club. He's far too focused.
"That's not what I meant," Yael remarks as she lifts the glass to her mouth to take a slow sip of her drink, but she can't help the slight smirk. The woman was a little bit irrational about getting a drink on her dress in a dive bar, after all. As she sets the cocktail glass back down, her attention drifts in the direction indicated by Jack, and she watches the pair dance for a few moments. "I don't know either of them. I tripped and ran into their table, so they let me sit with them." She clucks her tongue at the information about Cass' relationship troubles, shaking her head. "This is why I avoid dating."
Up on stage, the routine comes to an end. Tabitha and her partner catch their breath as the band moves into another tune. It doesn't seem to be completely jazz tonight. Just a nice blend of genres to get the club started. Tabitha and partner remain on stage, sharing the microphone as they sing, 'Thanks for the Memories'.
Mitch needs to flee for a minute to gather her thoughts (that is, to regain her cool and not start babbling again) and switch up tactics. She really does hightail it for the washrooms, though she instinctively starts to push open the door to the ladies room - only to almost collide with a woman coming out, who shoots the seemingly male Mitch with an offended look. "Uh, sorry, miss! I'm totally not perving, hi, I like your shoes." She turns on her heel, looks at the /other/ door, mutters "frick" and shoves her way into the men's room. This is scary territory. She focuses on looking in the mirror and adjusting her hat, then slips a little black gadget from her pocket. Palming it, she starts to head out again after a minute.
Steven applauds after the first performance but quickly quiets down as the two start up again. He continues sipping his water and people watching from the bar.
Randall leans in and listens intently to Elena, then laughs a little and nods. "If you say so. I don't think we'll get into any trouble, though." He sticks with her as they head further in, not too close but not too far either, surveying the general currents of crowd motion. "Anyway, point him out when you spot him, okay? Does he know you're coming?"
Cass throws her head back slightly when she laughs. Twirling, she doesn't mind if Ramon isn't Fred Astaire. "Naw, you're doing all the work." It's good to be out dancing. None of her friends entering is noticed. She's too busy trying not to fall flat on her face.
"No….and I'd like to keep it that way." Because Ramon doesn't know Randall and she knows he bought guns recently. Elena searches around the dimly lit room, her amber-flecked eyes roaming about. She doesn't spot her father yet….but wait till she does. So she puts her finger to her lips at Randall, and winks at him. "Your mission, Mr. Kirkwood, should you decide to accept it, is to assist E. Gomez in the strategic surveillance of a 40-year old man she couldn't ground because being the Father pretty much vetoed any familial rights in that regard. This message will self destruct in five seconds. Or whenever something embarrassing happens to me in which case you need to implement some creative extraction tactics really fast before my head explodes." She grins at that as she keeps searching the room. Wait for it. Wait for it.
Jack nods sagely and rolls his shoulders. "Datin' seems to be bad, as a general rule. I'm trying to get drunk enough to go home and end things with /my/ significant other, so I can sympathize." He unbuttons his jacket to give himself a little more wiggle room. One long-fingered hand drums nervously on the tabletop, and he chews at his lower lip.
Lifting her glass again, Yael tips it towards Jack slightly at that remark, her chin dropped down into her hand. "To the perpetual single life," she says, without the bitterness that one might expect from that statement. Taking a long sip of her drink now, she tips her chin back, her eyes fluttering closed as she swallows the alcohol. "What brings you here, Jack? Checking out the competition, are we?"
It /is/ good to be out dancing. Ramon, despite his lack of rhythm and grace, now relaxes because Cass at least seems to be having a good time. "If we ever do this again, bonita," he says, "I will be sure to listen closer to the song lyrics." An embarrassed half a grin.
Tabitha and partner finish their duet on stage. Stepping away from her singing partner, she applauds and smiles at the man. The gent takes up the microphone while he and the band break into a Cab Calloway medley. Perfect for dancing. As for Tabitha? This may be her club, but she's not the sole performer tonight! She steps off stage, disappearing into the crowd. Even in heels, everyone seems to tower over her! She makes her way up to the bar to schmooze a little with those sitting there.
Meanwhile, in the men's room, our intrepid stalker/journalist walks into a jutting corner before ever reaching the door. It's not that she's clumsy, like certain other women at 14G tonight, it's just this washroom has the same ambient lighting as the rest of the club, well, she's wearing Sunglasses At Night. The device she was holding goes skittering onto the floor in her surprise. "Crap!" she exclaims - but definitely not in the deep voice she's been affecting tonight. It's outright girly and does not match her suit, tie, fedora, and least of all mustache, but hopefully there's… no one in here.
Randall inclines his head to Elena. "It sounds like we'll be in extreme danger every minute," he offers, before easing into a broad smile of his own. "…and /loving/ it." Yes, he enjoys TV references, too. Spotting at least one other familiar face in the crowd, he offers Cass a wave in passing, but leaves her alone to continue her dancing. And, of course, completely fails to recognize just who her partner is.
"You bet your perfectly formed ass I'm checking out the competition." Much like Yael's lack of bitterness, there is a drollness and lack of sexual overture to Jack's tone. When the band changes songs, a smile spreads across his face. "Ooh. It's Cab." After draining off the rest of his vodka, he stands and offers a hand to his new friend. "Dance with me, Cohen. I feel good tonight, and I wanna celebrate."
She laughs, and knuckles Randall by the shoulder. "I'm kinda glad you got snagged out by the shift change if you managed to get -all- those references," she teases her friend. When she sees Randall wave to someone, she looks over to see….Cass on the dance floor. "Wow, look at her go," she says, inching in closer to take a look at the dance floor and dragging him with her if he resists. But then she sees Cass's partner. That head. It looks familiar. And then….her jaw -drops-. "….oh my god." She turns her head, hiding her face behind Randall. "That's my dad!" she whispers at him. "He hasn't danced in -years-!" She peeks around Randall's shoulder, and ducks it in again. "…and it -shows-!" She moans. "He's probably the only Mexican in Queens who has no rhythm."
Cass smiles and shakes her head at Ramon. "No, it's okay. They're just lyrics." The song stops and she claps when Tabitha descends the stage to the bar. A Cab Calloway song starts up again and she raises an eyebrow at him. "Want to continue or do you want to drink this memory away?"
Leroy saunters into the joint, adjusting his Fedora on his head and one hand in a pocket as he makes a b-line towards a table, humming to himself and looking a bit at home, tapping a foot from time to time and adjusting his cuff-links or sleeves. The chocolate doctor seems in his element, settling down in a chair and crossing his ankles.
"I have no need to drink the memory away," Ramon rumbles, though he might in a moment when he realizes his daughter has tracked him down like an errant 16 year old. He tries one of those fancy … spin the woman into his arms and then let her go things. What comes out is an awkward wrist twitch that doesn't amount to anything at all.
Meanwhile, in the men's room. A rather large bouncer is finishing up his uhm, duty and steps over to the sinks to wash his hands. A nod is made towards Mitch, soon after accompanied by a scowl. It's the outright girly cry and the suit and.. the .. mustache.. Hormone treatment? You get all kinds in NYC.. Yet.. "Excuse me? You ain't in the right room." Arms get folded across a heavily muscled chest as the bouncer scowls down at Mitch.
Yael, too, feels the need to knock back the rest of her drink in one go before she can slip her hand into Jack's, rising to her feet. "I told your lady friend that I would watch her shoes," she replies, picking up the pair of shoes in one hand as she stands. "And you're going to have to lead me. I told you, that incident at the bar earlier was tame. If you don't hold on to me, I might trip over a speaker." But she's game, it would appear, since her hand is in his and she doesn't seem to be saying no. "Don't get the wrong idea," she teases, looking to Jack with a silly, mocking smile. "I told you already, you aren't my type."
Having already gotten a decent look at Ramon earlier, Randall now turns around and keeps himself between him and Elena as they continue to talk quietly (well, what passes for quietly within the club environment). "He is? It has to just be a friendly dance, though, I mean I know that woman and she's dating someone else." Whatever troubles Cass and Lachlan have had lately, he hasn't yet gotten the news. "Let me know if we hit an extraction point, okay? And let's get something to drink, there's a nice big crowd over there." Good for hiding in, he doesn't add out loud.
Mitch is in the process of fumbling to pull the shades off of her face /while/ clambering along the bathroom floor (ew; at least it's shiny and new) to snatch her little black whatever-it-is of a gadget, which basically amounts to her falling at the bouncer's feet. She peeks up at him the way one might stare at a slathering tiger that's about to devour them. "…uh. Yeah I do. You don't know," she says indignantly, losing the masculine voice altogether. As she climbs to her feet, palming the device again, the look of fright completely disappears and she crosses her arms stubbornly. "Are you saying you wanna look in my pants?" she challenges, tipping her head back. "Yeah. Didn't think so! Now," she smoothes down her suit and adopts the deeper voice again, "I'm just gonna be on my way." With that, Mitch attempts to make a casual exit back into the club proper.
"Doncha worry, lady-o. I wouldn't touch you with somebody /else's/ ten foot pole. All due respect applied, of course." Jack's technically still in a relationship, and even afterward he's not going to be in a hurry to repeat the experience. At the shoes he frowns, then shrugs. "I've seen stranger things in NYC than a lady dancin' with shoes in her hands and a pair on her feet. Let's go." He takes Yael's hand and drags her out onto the dancefloor, where he takes up a stately strut. Ramon might not be Fred Astaire, but tonight Jack is.
Leroy's gaze goes towards the bathroom as he pushes himself up to his feet, grimacing. "I…shouldn't have had that non-fat soy latte, damn it's deliciousness…" He drawls in his 'accent'. Despite the fact that he's never lived in the south in his life, scampering towards the men's room and taking a deep breath as he flashes a smile to Mitch as he starts to squirm into the room and then he freezes for a moments, frowning and opening his mouth and shutting it and opening it again. A long pause. "Oh my WORD! Lil' TONY! Is that you?!"
"Well yeah I know. And Papa hasn't had a date since Mama died, and it's been three years. To tell you the truth I can't help but worry a bit," Elena says, peeking around Randall now and then. "….I remember him to be a much better dancer than he is right now though…" she says wistfully. "Or maybe I'm remembering my grandfather. Abuelo can cut up the floor with a mean merengue." Maybe it was through her grandparents that the young woman herself's got her groove. But she does follow Randall towards the nearest bar. She squeezes his arm gently. "Thank you so so so much for coming with me," she says gratefully. "I know it was short notice."
The bouncer places a very large hand on Mitch's shoulder. (He hasn't washed yet! Ew.) "I don't think so. Let's take a look at what that is you dropped?" It's not a request. The man doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor, so Mitch's rant just rolls right off him. Leroy's entrance is met with a grunt as the hulk of a bouncer has a problem that needs tendin' to.
Yael, unfortunately, is not even remotely close to being the Ginger Rogers to his Astaire. She's thankful for Jack's capable dancing, because without him there, she'd surely land flat on her rear end in the middle of the dance floor, and likely take down ten others with her. With Cass' shoes in one hand, she follows Jack's lead and does her model best to keep up, laughing all the while. "You're not bad," she jokes, raising her voice above the music.
Cass grins and nods. Totally oblivious to the fact that Randall and Elena have tracked them down, she laughs at the failed twirl and shakes her head. "Good. Me neither." She looks up at the stage and then back to Ramon. "Thank you for the dance. I really needed it."
"As did I," Ramon replies, and he sounds absolutely sincere. "So thank /you/." He doesn't elaborate on it, he doesn't delve into it, and here in a crowded bar he's certainly not going to ask Cass to spill what's been on her mind. They've already agreed to talk at the shop later — or rather she asked him to and he is going to go, which amounts to the same thing.
"Thanks, I do what I can." Jack replies. "You, on the other hand, are terrible." His wide, friendly grin and the mischievous twinkle in his eye take the heat out of the insult. "Here. Watch my feet and do what I do." Taking Yael's free hand in his own, he steps back to give her some space and leads her through a slow, simple soft-shoe. "And relax, else you're gonna break somethin', and I won't be able to make you look good for all the blokes."
"WaitjustasecondIforgotmy— " Drink. "Hey! Get your disgusting hands off of me!" Mitch shouts in her best gruff voice, which fails halfway through and becomes shrill. She rolls a shoulder harshly away from the man, but before she can try to shun the bouncer /or/ snatch the drink she left on the counter, the disguised woman sort of gets stuck between the him and Leroy. Who is calling her Lil' Tony. "…" She /very slowly/ slides her dark sunglasses on. The device is slipped into her pocket. "YEAH." She decides. "Lil' Tony! That's … that's me. Hi … you. This schmuck is trying to rough me up, can you believe it." Because people named Lil' Tony use the word 'schmuck'. Mitch is sure of it.
Leroy places a hand on his hip and tosses the hair he does not have (without knocking his hat off, mad skillz yo). "…I told you, never -ever- ever hit on the bouncer unless you're lookin' to get bounced. I mean he's got muscles - hey darlin', you really are cute as can be but…err…can you please get your hand off my little butterbuns of a date? Cuz if I remember correctly…" His hand flutters and he gestures around crotch level. "Did you…get that cream? I know I saw you in the office last week, you were itchin' something fierce, if you'll excuse me…me and Tony have some catching up to do. But call me sometime okay! Man the world is such a small place and I gotta pee like it's going out of style, can you hold this for me?" He removes his hat to hand to Mitch. "Thank you sweetpea, I won't be but a moment." He rushes to a stall, kthnx. "Blind dates, yeesh." A pause. Then a sigh of relief before the tinkle.
Settling her other hand on his shoulder, the heels of Cass' shoes resting against his back, Yael takes a breath and tries to relax. In reality, the idea of trying to dance at all, let alone in public, has her heart racing at the potential for an embarrassing slip-up. "Don't do that to me," she laments to his last remark, her voice fraught with feigned concern. She's watching his feet, of course, and trying to follow the steps just as best as she can. It's, um. Easier said than done. "Make me look too good for all the 'blokes' and I'll tell your girlfriend that I saw you ring shopping."
The bouncer continues to look unamused down at Mitch, then makes a face at Leroy. Okay, day one on the job? The bouncer already is thinking about the other clubs he could go work at. Freaks here already. It takes all kinds. Seriously man. Forgoing the washing of his hands, he just walks out, shaking his head. "Man, don't get paid enough for this shit."
Randall shakes his head. "What, like I was going to complain? C'mon." The bar is not too far away from the bathrooms, for obvious reasons; he gets a nice close-up gander at Leroy's impromptu performance, and can't help but laugh, giving him and Mitch a thumbs up once the bouncer is safely out of sight.
"Why did I save you from something heinous calling you?" Elena wonders curiously, led to the bar and blinking at the bathroom in passing. She can't help but grin a little bit, coupled with Randall flashing a thumbs-up towards Mitch. She gets to the bar, and flags down the bartender. "Hi. Shirley Temple?" she asks. Yes. It's pink, fizzy, girly, and non-alcoholic. Leave her alone.
Jack fixes Yael with a stern glare and gives her waist a hard pinch for good measure. "That's not funny," he chastises her. Then, one hand resting on her hip, the other directing her from the small of her back, the Irishman walks her through the rest of the number. Despite his jibes and chiding, the sparkle has never left his eyes and he appears to be genuinely enjoying himself. "This is cool. If we ever get drunk enough that I try and have sex with you," he guides his partner into a carefully supervised spin. "I want you to punch me. Right in the testicles. It's ok, we can still be friends after."
Mitch is left gaping at Leroy and holding his hat. Her gaping mouth is quick to form the shape of a smile. She whips her sunglasses off again and, as the bouncer leaves, flips his back a lewd gesture. She hops up a little on the balls of her feet. "/Yeah/! Jackass." Faux man voice totally dropped by this point, she smirks at Randall and all but bounces around outside Leroy's stall. What happens in the men's room stays in the men's room, right? "You are like, my freaking hero, man! Seriously. You know my name's not Tony and I'm not actually your date though right?" Pause. "But you can call me Tony if you want to!"
At the end of the dance, Cass takes Ramon's arm and pulls him toward the table. "I think I ned to sit though." She glances to their reserved table and sees that no one is sitting there any more. "I believe our clumsy friend split." As she moves closer, she sees something missing. "…with my shoes!"
In the crowd, Ramon fails to see she's off dancing with Cass' shoes. So he gives a predictably grouchy response. "Only in New York." And then, as he leads Cass to her seat and pulls out the chair for her and gets settled himself, /then/. THEN he spots his daughter. And do you know what he does? That's right. For the second time in one night, he just…facepalms. And starts looking around for a refill on his drink. "My daughter decided to come keep an eye on me," he comments to Cass. He specifically left her a note, and who wants to be at a club where Dad is unless she's here … guard … dogging. He's apparently rubbing off on her.
Leroy is busy…peeing so he just frowns some when there is a woman talking outside his stall. Pause. Rumble. FLUSH. He's zipping up as he gives Mitch a -look- and makes his way to the sink, staying quiet for now before he snickers and shakes his head. "Honey…until you start getting the shots, you're going to be experiencing things like this my darlin'. It's the voice. And the lack of bulge." He nods towards her pants before drying his hands. "So then, for the sake of the night. You can be Tony, and you can let me pay for your meal but no dating. Women have cooties." He offers his arm, teasing naturally as he winks and grins.
The pinch elicits a peal of laughter, and Yael can't help but smile at his proposition. "Then it's a deal," she says as she stumbles her way back from the spin, feeling better about her failures in the dexterity department given the fun she's having. She hasn't quite lost the shoes yet; they're still held securely in one hand. "I'll punch you in the testicles if you try to sleep with me, and you can slap me in the face if I try to sleep with you. Not as fun as yours, but I'm not going to give you license to slap me anywhere else." She hasn't yet realized that Cass is looking for her shoes.
Randall turns his attention back to Elena, hanging out behind her in line. "Not really" - just an odd job that was starting to get boring anyway - "but, I mean, c'mon. Nice girl like you calls up and says 'hey, come check out a club with me', that's not a bad thing. Even if it /is/ to check up on your old man. I mean, okay, if he was the type with a shotgun and five acres in the back yard—" At that point, he spots Ramon spotting Elena, and - uncertain whether he got spotted as part of the package deal - abruptly drops that line of conversation. "Uh, rum and Coke?" he says to the bartender, looking pale and tugging at his shirt collar.
And where's the club owner throughout all of this? Working her way through the crowd of course. Tabitha has worked her way around the room and back to the dance floor and towards Cass and Ramon. It's like she's sniffing out that there's a problem. "Well hello you two! Enjoying the club so far?" she sort of noses in. Just making sure her guests are having fun!
"Oh, I'm not— " Mitch starts to correct, a bit flabbergasted, but not remotely offended. " —I'm undercover." Thinking on Leroy's comment, she looks down at her pants and blinks a few times thoughtfully, but quickly moves on. "I normally only dress like this for special occasions." The be-dragged woman brandishes Leroy's fedora at arm's length for him with a flair - only after he's washed his hands, of course. "Nice hat," she says with a wink of her own, plucking the brim of her own fedora down - nearly identical in style, if not colour - before she snatches her glass up. She links arms with her new not-date, grinning with amusement as she walks out into the club with him. "So if I'm Tony, who're you?"
Aaaaaaaaaand when they both turn to see Ramon and Cass's progress, the man himself spots them. Jig is up! The young woman facepalms. Finally, the family resemblance is starting to show. "……Randall!" Elena groans. "Didn't anyone ever tell you about invoking the devil?" But she's grinning at him regardless. She does wave sheepishly at her father, and takes her Shirley Temple to take a sip. She also palms Randall a 10-spot. That's right. She's buying. Except she can't pay for the rum and coke visibly, but that doesn't mean Randall can't use her money to buy himself a drink. That counts. And that's the least she could do. At the young man tugging at his collar, she grins. "Don't worry. I'll protect you," she teases, firing him a wink….and nearly choking on the cherry that gets stuck into the bottom of her straw.
"Duly noted," Jack grins and spins Yael out of arms, then leads his newly-aquired wingwoman off of the dancefloor when the number comes to an end. "That was bloody brilliant. I've never had so much fun gettin' my feet stepped on. Whoa, Cassie!" Suddenly he's at tableside. "Hey, we gotcher shoes. Sorry about that. I felt inspired to dance, and my new buddy Cohen here was lively enough to oblige. Saw you out there too, you high-steppin' rascal." Still grinning lopsidedly, he drops down into a seat and bobs a nod to Tabitha and Ramon, who he doesn't know. "Oi. Name's Jack. Smashin' party, wot?"
Leroy pats Mitch's arm as he takes his hat and perches it on his head at at jaunty angle, winkling to the little Man-Woman-Ting. "Ahh, of course. Undercover." He's quiet as he leads the way back to his table, pursing his lips. "I'm…Doctor Leroy Willy Jones, and it's a pleasure to meet you Undercover Tony." He chuckles and looks obviously amused. "And it seems, twas more than chance or mere fate that led us to cross paths." A pause. "It was the fact that I had to pee and you have the undercover investigative skills of scoobie doo on crack." Dazzling smile goes HERE.
Tabitha beams a dazzling smile at those around. "Well, I see everything is just fine. Hello Jack, I'm glad to see that you're enjoying the club." There's just a slight flutter of the lashes there. Enough to be coquettish without overly flirting. She raises a hand and wriggles her fingers in a wave as she sashays off and into the crowd. Onstage, the band's playing ceases as they take a break. Replacing them? A classic jazz trio and a host of standard tunes.
Sighing, Cass resigns herself to being shoeless as she makes her way back to the table. "I…Elena's what?" That's when she looks about, trying to find Elena. However, she's distracted by Tabitha stopping by and then Jack coming by. With her shoes! Success! "Jack! Hey! I didn't even see you come in!" Grinning over at Yael, she puts her hands out for her shoes. "Thanks! I thought someone stole them. Cohen, was it? I'm Cass." To Tabitha, she continues to smile and picks up her left behind long island iced tea. "You were really good." But, then, she's off to schmooze more, so she turns back to Jack and Yael.
Ramon nods in agreement to Cass' words to Tabitha, and then holds out his hand to Jack. "Ramon Gomez," he rumbles. "Pleasure to meet you." He seems relieved, too, that the shoes have returned. It would have been awkward had his desire to dance rendered her shoeless.
Mitch is tickled pink over being on the arm of Leroy, truth be told - she's amused, and she's having a hard time keeping a straight face. "Charmed, I'm sure," she says in her almost-man-voice for that one answer, smirking. "But— hey!" she elbows the man - which she can do quite easily, given where her arm is. "My undercover skills are fine! They're skills. I have /mad skills/. I just, uh, that bouncer dude— and the wall," Yeah, the nefarious wall, foiling her plans? "I'm glad you had to pee when you did. The call of nature is wise." She tries to steer Leroy into making a wide berth around Tabitha. "Are you really a doctor?"
Slipping the shoes onto the table as she settles into her seat from earlier, Yael offers a bright smile to both Cass and Ramon, nudging the shoes over to Cass. "I didn't /want/ them to get stolen, so I took them with me," she explains, her tone vaguely apologetic, though there's still some residual amusement from the escapades on the dance floor. Her accent is more apparent now than it was before, and she can thank the drink and the dancing for that. "Yael Cohen," she clarifies, just before waving over a server to get herself another drink.
Though Jack's hand is so smooth it could be called dainty, his grip is firm. Obviously, he's not much of a manual laborer. Still, he meets Ramon's eye squarely. "Pleasure's mine, boy-o." When the server comes by, he unclaps and flags her down as well. "Another vodka/rocks for me, please. Tell the barkeep not to be girly about it, I'm a grown-up."
Leroy saunters along easily enough, listening to Mitch intently as he narrows his eyes and ahhs. "Oh of course, you iz phat for shizzle." He compliments before laughing and shaking that head of his. "Do me a favor though, next time you decide to go undercover? Find yourself a fine little man and take them with you, okay?" A pause. "In fact, I know just the person. I'll give you his number. Bitch threw out my popta-I mean, he's lonely. Horribly…lonely. And idle." Grumblegrumble. "And yes, I'm really a doctor."
Surprising no one, Randall takes the easy excuse to scoot a little closer to Elena. "My hero," he teases. "But I think your dad's too busy being embarrassed to give either of us a hard time right now." The Hamilton is pocketed, but not spent, at least not immediately; he takes out his own wallet, insisting on going Dutch. Plenty of time later to work out what the ten does end up going toward.
"Oh man. I'm so sorry. Yes. Ramon, Jack. And it's lovely to meet you Yael." Cass takes her shoes and slips them back onto her feet. She gains a bit in height and then grins. "Thanks so much for guarding my shoes so valiantly." Elena being here has slipped her mind for a moment. She takes a long drink of her long island iced tea, finishing the little that was left. "I should probably get home. Gotta open the store tomorrow and all."
"I'll walk you to your cab," Ramon says. He stands up, his hand again out to catch her elbow if she needs it. "Good night everyone." He raises his hand in farewell to Elena. He's going home. He'll want to know all about the yutz she's with later.
"I think he is," Elena says, grinning back at Randall - and…hey! That was for his drink! But she doesn't mind. It's his now. Leaning against the counter, she takes a sip of her Shirley Temple. "God knows he needs it anyway - to have a little fun, I mean. Like I said, he's having it a little rough in the last two weeks or so." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear absently and fishes out the cherry with her straw. She plucks the fruit out by the stem, and dangles it towards her companion. "Cherry?" She never liked them regardless. Watching him, she suddenly bursts out laughing. "God. I can't believe I just dragged you along to some parental sting operation. This is probably so dorky to you. Maybe even too paranoid. Bye Papa!" She waves cheerfully from where she is.
Mitch tips back some of that Tom Collins she's been neglecting for awhile now. Just because she's here to pixie spy doesn't mean she can't have a bit of fun on her pseudo-job. "Sweet," she answers. "Is your middle name really Willy?" She's curious to a fault, but she's cute, even with a mustache, so it's okay, right? "Wait, I don't get it, bring someone with me for what now? Poptarts? What?" Distracted in a heartbeat, she elbows her new buddy again and looks across the club, "Oh hey, isn't that the governor of something? Oh! Oh! I could have sworn I saw that chick from Wicked sitting over there." She fishes out that cell phone again.
With her new drink set down in front of her, Yael offers a warm smile to Cass and Ramon as they rise to leave. "The pleasure's mine," she replies to the other woman, snickering again at the thought of guarding the shoes. Resting her chin in her hand, she turns back to Jack with an arched brow, tracing one finger along the edge of the cocktail glass. "You know, for a bartender, you have very soft hands," she says in a teasing voice, canting her head to one side. Mockingly, she adds in a lyrical tone, "And sad eyes."
"Have a good night, Cass. I was pleased to see you enjoying yourself tonight." Jack tosses a wave to the bookstore owner and the newly-met Ramon. Then he gratefully accepts a fresh drink from the server as she comes back around. After drinking deeply, he clanks his glass down, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and belches up a cloud of sweet, distilled Russian pride. He's very cosmopolitan. Then he glares at Yael in a fashion that's fast becoming tradition between the two. "You like that in a girl, do ye? I'm a magician, bitch. I used to sleep with latex gloves fulla vasoline so's I could keep a tender touch with the cards."
Leroy just watches Mitch, distractedly nodding and uhhunhing and what not with a squint of his eyes. He? Is not drinking. Yet. "Mmm…yes, Willy…William, same diff really." He listens to all the babbling and what not, lashes fluttering and head tilting and he finally just says it. "Honey…you keep changing subjects like you're in a changing room at Vicky Secrets during a /sale/. Let's start with ONE thing, aight? Okay…what are you investigating? Hmm?"
Randall shrugs at Elena and accepts the offer, dropping the fruit garnish into his drink and letting it mix with the ice. The double entendre hasn't occurred to him. Yet. "Looks like it did do him some good to get out and about. Have to ask Cass about it next time we run into her at the store." He takes a sip of his drink— and then it hits him. The patrons in front of him are less than amused as they get sprayed.
Hiding her laughter behind her glass, Yael takes a long sip of her new drink, barely keeping it together when Jack speaks again. She laughs then, unabashed, and sets her drink down before it can suffer ill effects of her clumsy nature. "A magician?" She isn't even sure what's real and what isn't, any more, so she snickers. "I never want to hear about you sleeping with latex gloves again." She takes another swift sip of her drink, already halfway through this one. "So show me a magic trick, Jack."
Mitch snaps a few photos while pretending to text message or somesuch. She's considerably sneaky about it. "Eeeeverything," she answers just as she finishes catching a picture of a pseudo-celeb who happens to stroll by. She tips her head toward a recently vacated table - probably reserved with owners who are dancing, but sucks to be them - and heads toward it. "Mainly? Dirt on The Amazing Miss Tempest, but check out all the swank here. I'll take what I can get," she explains as she collapses into a seat, sprawling into an unladylike pose off the bat, so at least she wins unconscious points for her disguise there.
Leroy listens, somewhere along the line he's ordered himself something virgin. After all, for a Drag-King like Tony, you need to be sober. There shall be No Accidental Hanky-Panky, Okay? No. He just scans the area and then looks back to Mitch with a quirk of a smile on his lips, sipping his drink and smacking his lips. "Dirt hunh? I don't know…I think Glitter and Pizazz if far more interesting than /dirt/. You can walk outside and get dirt."
A show-off to the core, Jack is only too happy to oblige. He stretches his arms out wide, then claps his palms together sharply. When he opens his hands, he's cradling one of the tiny, short-stemmed roses he keeps in a vase by his beside. Unceremoniously, he drops it on the table in front of Yael and grins in a self-congratulatory fashion. "There ye go. This doesn't mean that I'm not still pissed about the soft-hands-sad-eyes quip, though. Wench."
When Randall turns into a fountain of rum and coke, Elena stares at him wide-eyed. "Are you okay?" she asks concernedly, patting him lightly on the back. "Did they give you too strong a drink? You're not being a wussy on me, are you?" She grins at Randall teasingly at that, and her eyes fall on Jack as he performs a magic trick. Oh yeah. It's magic, alright. "And yeah, we should. I try not to bug Cass too much at work though," she tells Randall, pushing away from the counter. Well. Her father was having a good time. No reason she can't do the same. She looks at Randall and grins, gesturing to the dance floor. Oh oh. "C'mon, kemosabe. One round," she says. And if he'll let him, she'll drag him out to the dance floor. This is also so she could go sneak-and-surprise Jack when he's busy entertaining people.
Snatching the rose from the table, Yael seems both impressed and amused by the little trick. She turns the flower over in her hands, as if to reassure herself that this is, in fact, a real rose. She even lifts the bloom to her nose, inhaling deeply. "Interesting," she muses, tucking the rose into the mess of curls pinned up at the back of her head. "How'd you do it?" Reaching out to take one of his hands into hers, she lifts it to peer down the sleeves of his jacket, just in case there was one hidden inside.
Mitch plucks a slice of orange out of her glass and squeezes it before biting it. "Yeah, well," she says, muffled, around the citrus garnish. "She kind of hates me ever since I did this one interview and maybe sort of tore her apart and called her a bimbo munchkin afterward. God, people and their grudges, right?" The piece of orange is dropped on a napkin and she licks her fingers. "Anyway. I'll take glitter and pizzazz if it's all I can find," she says, her camera phone going off silently again before she tucks it away. "But I'm totally casing this joint out again. … Okay, I'm bored. Wanna dance, doc? Don't worry, we can lay down a 'no core contact' rule to avoid the transfer of boy-girl cooties." She takes a hearty sip of her drink.
Still grinning at his own antics, Jack makes a show of rolling up his sleeves, then produces another rose in the same fashion. This one is tucked into the hole at the lapper. "No tricks, lady-o. That's magic in its purest form. I can't tell ye how I do it, or it'll spoil the trick, see?" He laces his fingers together and clasps his smooth (YES SMOOTH) hands on the tabletop.
Leroy watches the woman, taking a sip of his drink…and then another as he ahhhs in understanding. "You're one of them, usually have me clients all in a flutter of nerves and bad skirts. Oh honey…just because you insult the hell outta somebody don't mean they should hate you, of course not." He pauses before laughing heartily and rolling his eyes. "Oh darlin', I have /alot/ of sisters. I'll be fine." He offers his arm again.
Randall turns back toward the bar, grabbing a handful of napkins and passing them out, muttering apologies as he pats himself down. Oh, but then— "Anything you say, Tonto," he quips, following Elena out to the dance floor. Not the least bit reluctantly, though Jack's impromptu performance does draw his attention for a couple seconds along the way.
This time, Yael is keeping a close eye on Jack as he performs the stunt, and still she can't make sense of it when the rose appears on the table in front of her. "That's amazing," she says wondrously, ducking to peer beneath the table, too, in case that might offer some insight. It doesn't. She looks back to Jack, arching a brow. "One day, I'll get you drunk enough to explain it to me." She takes her drink into her hand, then, and downs most of what's left.
She grins, taking Randall's hand and playfully twirling underneath it as she passes by Jack and leans in to peck a kiss on his cheek. "Driveby~!" Elena says cheerfully, grinning over at Yael before she ventures further into the dance floor with Randall. Once she gets there, she'll break into some serious moves. The girl was part of the NYU Dance Corps after all, she competed all around the state. And lucky for her, Randall doesn't do too badly. She lets out a laugh, and winks at him. "You're….not half bad!" she says, impressed. Simply because she's come across too many other guys who don't know how to dance.
After downing most of her drink and leaving mostly ice and a cherry, Mitch only smiles, which turns into a smirk as she rises from her seat. "What are you, like some kinda doctor to the stars?" Drag King for a Night and the fabulous man that is Leroy become dance partners, then, as Mitch takes his hand and heads to dance to whatever jazzy number the band is cooking up. … She leads. First order of dance business? To attempt to swirl Leroy (who is a much bigger person than herself, but never mind) around. Hey! She's kind of feeling Undercover Tony.
"Mebbe so," Jack concedes. "But I'm not looking forward to that day. It'll probably be the same day you punch me in the jingles for tryin' to get a peek at your yoo-hoo, know what I'm sayin'?" As if this were everyday conversational fare, he lifts his glass of vodka and gulps it down to the ice, then lets out a quiet sigh of satisfaction. "Besides, you'll find I'm not as cheap a date as most of the chappies 'round here."
Waitasec. "Scrappy?" Jack doubletakes, but she's gone.
As Elena steps in to give Jack the little kiss on the cheek, Yael only smirks behind her glass, watching with an amused expression. "Scrappy?" It's a nickname she wasn't expecting to hear in relation to… well, anyone, let alone someone who looks the way Elena does. "Another one of your admirers?" she inquires with a hint of a laugh, watching Elena for a few seconds before her attention slides back to Jack. "I'm not as cheap a date as that, either, so we'll just have to see what happens."
Making her way in after a busy day spent looking for other musicians and meeting one at Starbucks, connecting and shopping with Eliana, then playing her fourth DOI gig, Jane Forrest still has a bit of energy left, somehow. The five foot eight inch brunette is wearing a short black evening dress with a neckline that exposes just the barest hint of cleavage, simple silver stud earrings, and open toed black shoes with two inch heels. Her hair hangs loose. She stands at the back initially, just observing what goes on here for a time to get the feel of this place.
"That's.. my niece," Jack improvises. "She's a great kid. Every man on the face of the planet seems to want to get in her pants. Is it like that for all girls at her age?" For a moment, Uncle Jack seems a little flustered. "HE'S TOO OLD FOR YOU!" he calls out with blatant disregard for social propriety or the potential consequences for Elena. Good ol' Jack, destroying teenage sexual opportunities since 2007.
Leroy awkwardly allows himself to be twirled, ducking down some and giving a girlish sigh. "Oh no, my deeeear. I'm a fashion doctor, consultant to the stars good suh." He smirks and sways, taking on overly girlish mannerisms, wiggling his hips and fanning himself. He's humoring the little Tony. Kthnx.
A little skill and a little effort. A lot of effort, more like; Randall grins back at Elena, but between the drink earlier (he did keep some of it down) and the dancing, he's worked up a decent sweat, and a flush to replace the earlier pale moment. "I am /not/!" he shoots back at Jack, not missing a beat, and once again failing to immediately recognize the implications.
Unfortunately for Yael, she has just decided to finish off her drink when Jack calls out to Elena, and she all but chokes on her drink as she attempts to fight the liquor down amid fits of coughing. "I can't believe you just did that to her," she says, her tone incredulous, as she reaches out to swat Jack's shoulder lightly. "It wasn't like that for me at that age, but I was very shy and awkward. And I never had an uncle to sabotage my relationships."
Mitch laughs, completely ruining her illusion of masculinity for anyone around her, but as long as it's not Tabitha, she's not really paying attention anymore. "That's a valiant trade." After her initial flourish, her dance moves aren't /quite/ so theatrical, but she plays it up nonetheless by leading Leroy around the dancefloor. She swings her head around when the Irishman shouts, blinking and looking in the direction he yelled in. Oookay. It's forgotten (mostly; she's nosy) as she grins appraisingly at Leroy under her glued-on facial hair (that is going to be a bitch to take off later, ugh). "I totally need to be your friend." Forward much?
Oh my god. He SO did not! Here she was, dancing up a storm with a friend of hers, and then Jack…..embarrasses her. Again. Elena whirls around, staring at Jack, and jawdropping. Can't -anyone- do anything innocently anymore? And when Randall says what he does, she almost falls over. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Or both. But but….she wasn't even DOING ANYTHING! "Oh my god," Elena says helplessly, burying her face in her hands and peeking through her fingers. Like she was watching a bad horror movie, alone, in the dark. Except this was HER LIFE. And all its un-normalness.
She steps over to an open table and sits, her eyes looking over the wine list, and orders something red. Her debit card is offered up and taken, the staff member going to satisfy her request, and Jane relaxes there. Legs cross at the ankle, she smiles quietly and contents herself with being an observer for the moment, rather than the center of attention she's been while performing and carrying out other… missions. When the glass comes she sips from it slowly and savors the drink. Pure relaxation, something she rarely allows herself.
Jack grins remorselessly and his eyes crinkle at the corners. "I gotta protect her from all the hormone-driven penises out there. Penii?" He shrugs. "Anyway, there's a lot of 'em. I know, I was one since I'm twenty-six. We're a dangerous breed. AND WE CAN SMELL OUR OWN!" Maybe it's the liquor. Maybe it's Jack's blatant disregard for all things etiquette-related. Either way, he's a force to be reckoned with.
The dance effectively ended ahead of schedule, Randall turns and faces Jack directly, standing just behind Elena and resting a hand lightly on her upper arm. "Better get your nose checked," he responds, "I'm a harmless little fuzzball, I promise. Not that I blame you for being concerned—" I mean, hell, look at her! He's been mentally preparing a little 'I'm not like all those other guys' speech ever since he thought Ramon was going to come over and kick his ass.
"Don't ask me," Yael replies defensively, holding up a hand and shaking her head. "English isn't my first language, if you hadn't noticed. I couldn't tell you. Besides, I don't usually have to refer to more than one at once." She turns to glance to Randall as the two carry out this bizarre little exchange, snickering to herself all the while. "What if she's into something else? Can you smell that, too?"
Leroy rolls his eyes and shimmies and shakes before leaning in close, he's learned to ignore things around him, focusing on the dance partner that has dazzled him. "My friend?" He pauses before squinting at her top lip and reaching out to gently grab or pick at the end of that moustache. "Sounds just fine, just one thing, oh my GOD, is that Paris?!" And unless she moves? He -will- rip it off her face.
"Oh Randall, -ignore- him," Elena groans, spinning -him- around, or she at least tries to. "He's been like that since he discovered I was eighteen and faux-adoptable. I think he does this partly because it amuses him." She does smile at him, it's a little shy - but there's an affectionate look to those amber-flecked, dark eyes. "He's just looking out for me, even if YOU AND I BOTH KNOW you're a decent guy. So don't worry about it. Besides. Not a lot of people would help out a girl they don't really know very well to keep an eye out for her father, you know? It was decent of you, and I don't really relish the idea of romping around New York by myself without someone with me." Since everything's all -weird and crazy- now.
"Look, Cohen. It's like a man, only girlier." Jack looks Randall up and down disdainfully. Then he tips his glass back to suck at the ice. Yael's comment about the possibility of Elena's lack of sexual orientation is enough to get him to splutter half-melted bits and diluted vodka everywhere. "No! No, that's not cool. I can't smell vagina unless it's within ten paces."
The shouting from Jack garners a squint from Mitch, because as stated, she's /nosy/, and her attention is drawn to Randall and Elena for a second. Peer, peeer. She's soon completely distracted by Leroy's ploy, however, her head veritably spinning around. "What?! No way she'd be in a place like HOLY MOTHER OF FRICKING FRACKING— oh my god MY FACE! Christ!" The woman (more evidently so, now - if the lack of mustache doesn't make it obvious, the shrieking should) draws a hand up to her mouth, clawing at her face as her eyes water up. "Mother /eff/." She shoves at Leroy. Harmless, but feisty. "Was that really necessary, doctor?"
It's a slow comfortable course through the wine glass for the lady at her table, the performer turned observer who is Jane Forrest as she simply enjoys the atmosphere and watches people enjoying themselves. She lets her eyes travel and take in details of the club's decor, just in time to catch the shouts of a woman having a false mustache suddenly removed from her face, and can't help but snicker. A hand lifts to cover her mouth and hide the amusement. In the depths of her mind, a rating is made of the pitch that unmustached woman shrieks in, and… it still doesn't compare to what she's capable of. Unspoken pride, here. Ultimate Soprano 1, Rest of World 0.
"That's what you need me for," Yael replies, picking up a napkin with which to tidy the table top after Jack's reaction to her question. For the second time today, she finds herself sopping up alcohol from someone else's table. Both times in the presence of Jack. This had better not indicate a trend. "I have good radar for that kind of thing. Much wider than ten paces."
Randall's face puckers, even as Elena turns him around; her good advice notwithstanding, he's right on the edge of rounding on Jack and launching into a good solid snarkfest with the nosy old bastard. But then Leroy's little stunt throws a monkey wrench into pretty much everything going on in that corner of the club, and he does something completely different, which is to lean in and plant a kiss on the corner of Elena's mouth. See? He's not /all/ nice guy.
Leroy looks sympathetic, really he does, stepping back when he's shoved and shaking his head. "It was for your own good my dear, you'll hate me for a little while but only evil people with poodles need fake lip warmers." He flips his business card out of a sleeve and offers it, tugging a hankie from a pocket and offering that as well. "You'll get uh, over it."
WHAM! Jack is up in a flash, and plants a fist-first greeting across Randall's jaw. "Nice guy? I'll show you nice guy." No, this doesn't make any sense. Yes, Jack is drunk by now. No, this isn't a good idea, and he immediately realizes it. "Whoops," he mumbles sheepishly.
"Jeeeeeesus," Mitch croons sourly, taking the card in one hand and the handkerchief in the other. She dabs at her lip, looking at the results to make sure there's no blood or anything. (There's not, it just feels like it.) "Oh no. You've ruined my elaborate disguise," she says in a flat voice before rolling her eyes and breaking into a smile and laugh. "Okay, okay, it was kind of skeevy. Just, god, I didn't need a wax job from hell." She touches the hanky to her face gingerly again before tucking it neatly into her breast pocket, as she suspects Leroy may not want it anymore. And then— is that violence she hears erupting?! Immediately, her phone is whipped out to catch this on camera. "Bingoooo."
At the shrieking from the other side of the bar, Elena can't help it. She blinks a little bit, and turns her head to look at the chaos. "….what's going on?" she murmurs, furrowing her brows a little bit. But when Randall looks like he's about to get in a snark-fest with Jack, she reaches out to take his arm. "It's okay, really!" she says. "He's kind of like my big brother-slash-uncle. He's really not -that- bad of a guy and I do love him like a—" And then his head dips to press a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. Her eyes widen a little bit, looking past his ear considering he was taller than her, and his head is dipped against hers. Warmth spreads over her cheekbones, color showing through the healthy tan….
And then WHAM. Her companion goes down. She stares, horrified, her jaw agape. And then… "Jack!" she cries, horrified, stooping over to try and help Randall up. "What are you doing?? Oh my god, Randall, are you okay??" Oh god. Oh god. What just happened???
Randall is still processing through the wisdom of his own actions when he sees that blur of motion out of the corner of his eye. "Whoa, I—" is all he gets out before he goes down, clapping a hand over the side of his face and waiting till Jack backs off again before struggling back to his feet. He doesn't even bother to glare at Mitch for collecting evidence. "I'll be all right," he replies to Elena, "I think," catching hold of her arm for a second and then letting go before he risks setting Jack off a second time.
Leroy smiles and pats Mitch on the arm. "See, and okay you have a bit of peach fuzz there too I hope I got…so everything worked out for the best." Then…there is violence and his eyes go wide before he gives a tiny flail and takes off his hat, offering it to Mitch again as he wades across the dance floor towards the stage, if only to get a chair to stand on and tilt his head back and…he turns slightly. "I'm so sorry boys…." There is a slight hand movement so he can -squeeze- and then he hits a note men should not hit. "Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii~" This keeps going and going and going and going and going…before he finally goes. "Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm every woman! It's all iiiiiiiin meeeeee! Please no fiiiiiightiiiiiiiing…"
At her table, unseen by others present, the observing woman turns her head away from the de-mustached one when the flash of movement and incident of violence draws her attention. Jane studies the persons involved, and recognition settles in. It's like a flashback, really. Cass, a napkin, Lachlan, how all that went south so quickly, and now, is that, yes… It's Jack, and… some guy, and Elena? Her head dips forward and rests in a hand, she hides her face, because at this moment? If she weren't already being inconspicuous, she would be now, very much telling the world she doesn't know Jack, never saw him before. Somehow, also, amid the facepalming, she hears Leroy's voice, and in the back of her mind grades it. Ultimate Soprano 2, Rest of World 0.
"Jack!" Her reaction time is somewhat slower than she'd like, when Jack rises from his seat and swings at Randall's face, and for a few seconds, Yael can only sit at the table, her mouth agape. Once she gets up the nerve to rise to her feet and follow after Jack, reaching to take hold of one of his arms and draw him back, away from Randall, he's already realized his mistake. "I think maybe it's time to get you home, before you cause a scene. Remember what I told you about bar fights?"
Mitch takes Leroy's hat with her free hand without thinking. What is she, the hatrack? There's a semi-permanent wince in place on her face as she watches Jack versus Randall, but she keeps her (furtive) video steady via her hi-tech phone. Her eyes widen when she hears that note ring out - and having not realized where Leroy was going when he shoved his stylish fedora at her, they widen even more when she looks at the stage. "Whaaat the, oh, this is priceless," she says to herself with a huge, incredulous smile. Her phone, of course, has whipped around to capture this, too, for little reason other than her own amusement.
"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Randall I'm so sorry!" Elena does look mortified, horrified, and embarrassed all at once, mixed with a HUGE splash of guilt and apology on her face. She does help him up, and tries to check his face, fingertips touching the injury delicately. "Let me see….oh god that's gonna show in the morning…" she says, wincing. And since he's a dude, it's not like he can cover it up either. But she does try to subtly take the pain away, drawing it out from every touch of her fingertips. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you want to go home?" Because who would want to stick around after that? She gives Jack a -look-. She's not mad at him, she understands, he was only looking out for her but dear sweet Jesus, she gets the hint! She looks at Yael gratefully when she comes in and pulls Jack away. "Can you make sure my 'uncle's' okay?" she asks her. "I think he's a little…loopy."
"Yeah. Next time you'll think twice about kissing Scrappy, yes?" It's clear that Jack's heart isn't in the taunt. He sighs and deflates, then turns to Yael. "I think you're right, Cohen. Let's get a cab. Uhh.. Scrappy, I'm sorry 'bout your date's face. He could still be pretty, from a certain angle."
"He's not my date, he's my friend!" Elena cries, facepalming. "We were just stalking Papa together!" And stuck around for a few rounds on the dance floor, but come on, she needs a break too. And so does Randall, his earlier job sucked! As for the kiss….it wasn't like he just faceraped her! It was pretty chaste after all things considering.
"Anything you want done baby - nothing to see over there, I'll do it naturally." Leroy has a very strained smile on his face, hips swaying, pelvis thrusts go here as he gets down off of his chair, snapping and bobbing his head as he moon-walks back to where Mitch is (okay, he just dragging his feet). When he's satisfied that no crowd are forming and such, he doubles over now and wheezes. "Sweet baby jesus…" He's done his duty.
"Pumbaa, sit down before ya hurt yourself." He even manages to not completely screw up the New York Jew accent! Randall shakes his head, bringing fingers up to prod at the impact zone once again; in the haze of everything going on at once, he writes off the unusually quick retreat of pain to endorphins kicking in, rather than suspecting that Elena had anything directly to do with it. "What, and end the night on /that/ note? You've gotta be kidding me."
Looping her arm through Jack's to keep both of them steady on the walk to the door, Yael rolls her eyes. "Concerned uncle is one thing," she says as she leads them outside to try and hail a cab. "Abusive Uncle Jim is something else. Next time you hit someone in the face like that without a good reason, I reserve the right to knee you in the testicles." Of course, he very well might not remember this discussion in the morning. Oh well. Once she's successfully hailed a cab, she gestures for him to get in, first.
Her head lifts from the hands and Jane's eyes go back to watching the aftermath, seeing Yael, the one who so unwittingly made the accomplishment of an earlier mission possible, readying to lead Jack out, and a note of concern sets in that she might've provided something else by that time spent with Eliana, but she sets it aside. Attention is paid instead to Elena and Randall. The video taking woman? Unseen.
Is there not going to be anymore hitting? Mitch looks mildly disappointed when she glances over to the fracas and its concerned parties. So, instead, she plants a vaguely concerned hand on Leroy's back when he wanders back and does that whole worrying doubling over thing. "You okay, Chaka? Iiii'm going to get outta here. I have videos to edit." She pops the man's hat on his bald head and tips it down at the jaunty angle it was in before. "I will see you again, mister. I might have a fashion crisis."
"…you're….not mad at me?" Elena says, blinking a little bit and looking at Randall, a little awed at the fact that he wasn't. She can't help but smile, and rolls her eyes skyward. "Okay. But if a beam from the ceiling falls on you next, that's so not my fault." She rests a hand on his back, and gently tries to steer him towards the bar. "C'mon, let me get you some ice for that," she mutters, her touch gently at least. And she does look and feel -incredibly bad- at what just happened.
Leroy lifts a hand and waves vaguely to Mitch. "Okay cupcake! Call me, don't be a stranger!" He's going to stay like this for a little while though. "Remember no fake lip hair." He slips his cellphone out of a pocket, dials a number. "Jeremy…I think I broke something…call me back…"
Randall glances up, just in case - it's been the sort of month where you can't just rule out such a thing - and allows himself to be steered once again. "Thanks. How about some fresh air, too? I know a place with no ceiling, you'd probably like it."
"Sounds good. But first, ice," Elena says, even as she leads Randall away for a makeshift icepack, and then some fresh air.