Hudson stayed back as Don Juan plunged ahead into the crowd, which was ostensibly what he'd wanted, but it didn't make him feel less volatile. He was disappointed in himself, he recognized, for having been so quickly and thoroughly thrown off by an entirely banal interaction with Hudson. It had been... how long had it been? Nearly three years, by now. He had no right to be so affected. It was pathetic, really. He fetched another drink but spent more time staring at it than sipping it. If he drank more, the disregulation that had so frustrated him during his conversation with Hudson was probably only going to get worse. Increasing the odds that he would make a fool of himself before the night was over. Maybe it was already inevitable.

Well, if he was going to make a fool of himself one way or another, Don Juan decided he could at least choose the kind of fool he was. An emotional mess, mooning over someone he'd lost three years ago, or the kind of fool who ruined parties. He had a reputation to uphold, after all — no one had threatened him with violence since he'd fled Spain. Maybe that would change tonight. He could stand to be despised, so long as he wasn't considered uninteresting, he thought; nothing was less interesting than being hung up on someone who had left you.

It took him some time to decide the best course of attack, but eventually he ended up slipping out of the party proper and into a small room, probably generally used for zoo maintenance but which was being used to stash fireworks for the celebrations later tonight. He picked through them in an unhurried way, reading the handwritten labels and trying to imagine which would cause the most chaos. He was in a considerably better mood when the door opened and — who else? — Hudson slipped inside.

"I couldn't find peanuts," he explained blithely, making a sweeping gesture with one of the fireworks. "Have you been stalking me?"

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