"Damn straight. The cake police will probably stop everyone else from taking our cake." Something about dancing like that always loosens Alasdair's tongue - kind of like drinking does. He's not as serious and quiet after he's flipped someone over his back.

But then, who could be?

"Yeah?" He says, turning his head to look at Evan before giving him a noisy kiss on the cheek. "You're not half-bad yourself."

Also crucial. It's probably been at least 48 hours since he told Evan that.