For some reason the events put on by the minster's wife always had him trying to dress smarter and look more put together. Was there any added pressure? No. Did he do it anyway? Absolutely. He did not want to be on her bad side for any reason, so he'd showed up and was the epitome of a gentleman in most respects. The decor was quite lovely and he'd taken a turn around the dance floor with an appropriate amount of young ladies, but he felt like that was not the purpose of tonight, so had abstained for a song or two until he could reasonably take to the floor again. It was far more preferable than socializing with people he saw almost every day, but not talking about work.

He'd retired to the side of the room with a glass of whiskey, keeping an eye out for any of the enchanted mistletoe he'd heard rumors of lurking in unsuspecting places. That was the last thing he needed tonight. He would not like to be the subject of any unnecessary gossip this evening. No sir.

"Macmillan, relax," he said over his glass as he saw the man go stalking across the room toward him. "You should be off the clock, have a drink." He didn't know the other man very well, had only dealt with him professionally in minimal capacity, but he'd always seemed rather... high strung. Tonight was a good time to loosen up a little, at the very least. They were not actually at work, despite being surrounded by coworkers.