Beckett's conversation with Sabine early in the night still weighed on him, the little tease. He did love to see how far he could push her and it had been a while, but it, as always, left him a little flustered. He wondered what that pretty ballerina was doing after the night was over. Certainly watching her perform had put some very specific ideas in his head. He shouldn't feel this way after a simple conversation, but history always tended to repeat itself and realistically he should know better, but he just couldn't help himself. Sabine was a lot of fun to aggravate. Pushing her buttons was one of his favorite hobbies. It was a miracle Cass hadn't killed him yet.

Midnight was rapidly approaching however, and he felt bad about leaving early, so he was determined to stick it out. He was sure he could find some company for later if he was patient enough. Perhaps he really would introduce himself to Miss Ballerina to see if she was amenable to a private lesson later. For now he supposed he could continue to enjoy the party and have another drink.

Unfortunately he couldn't find the scotch he wanted and he still didn't think champagne was going to cut it. Maybe it was time to try one of the drinks based on the evening. Becks thought it would be far too sweet, but he was willing to give it a try. A little buzz would do him some good. Fortunately a waiter happened by at that very moment and Beckett flagged him down. Reaching for one of the glasses, Becks realized he wasn't the only one. "Apologies, please," He gestured for the pretty face on the other side of the tray to pick first before he took one. She looked vaguely familiar, and it took Becks a minute to realize he had bumped into the former Miss Finch, now Mrs. Crouch. "Any idea what I'm looking at?" He questioned of what was no doubt some fruity concoction that bastardized the booze hidden within.