Gaz may act like a "mini-Price" sometimes, at least according to Laswell, but he knew how to let loose a bit. He was still a young man, with boundless energy and that uncanny ability to rebound from a night of drinking.

But he wasn't much of a club guy. He'd spend time knocking back pints with the lads at any ol' pub, but clubs? Too loud, too noisy. But, after just wrapping up a successful mission and wanting to celebrate, the 141 gave in and went down the 'Fox Loop'. It was a rather nice club, not too sleezy but not too expensive. The boys were able to keep their legs during this past mission; they weren't about to chop one off for a drink.

Gaz sat at the bar, half listening to a story Johnny had told multiple times when his eyes wandered to the dancefloor. He had always been a people watcher. He took a sip of drink, keeping most of his comments to himself when someone caught his eye. Usually, that was a bad thing, but this person?

They were kinda... cute.

It had been a long time since Gaz had used that word, cute, but it felt right. And you know what else felt right? Shooting his shot.

Abruptly, though only Price seemed to notice, Gaz sat down his drink and walked onto the dancefloor with absolutely no plan. He was only a bit buzzed, but it was enough to make him feel confident.