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Robert was late. But goddamn if he didn't have a good reason. Or two, really. But the first would be very plainly obvious when he strolled in, just in time to see everybody looking like they were ready to leave. He stifled the disappointment, because his outfit did not go well with disappointment. The only expression he was allowed to wear with this suit was stone-cold pimpness.

Was he really the only one who'd had a chance to buy something ahead? Maybe, it wasn't necessarily unlikely. Still, it was weird when Robert was the one who'd come prepared.

Prepared, that is, in a solid gold shimmer three piece suit, matching leather shoes, and his hair slicked back to a shine. Oh yes. Oh yes, Robert was dressed properly for Vegas. The King himself would have been proud.

"Heeeeeey," He drawled, waltzing in with a twist on his heel and a twirl. "Where's everybody goin'?"

Dakota wasn’t mad at him for being late. That was good. Actually, now that Wilson thought about it, had he ever seen Dakota angry? He didn’t think so. Wilson blinked as the taller boy wrapped him in a hug and loudly whoop. He smiled, one hand reaching up to cover one ear. Damn, Dakota could be loud. Wilson curiously stared at the items thrust into his hands. Wide eyes picked up the ID card and took in the details—name, birthdate, etc. “Yeah, okay.” He was still staring at the things Dakota had given him when he dropped a shoulder to let the bag slide to the floor. Wilson gave the alcohol a second look. W-What…

“Dakota, did you drink any alcohol yet?” Momma Wilson gave Dakota a look. “Actually, just don’t get too drunk okay? And to be honest, I’m more worried about losing you in Vegas than losing Marcus.” Marcus looked more responsible than Dakota, after all. Wilson looked between Marcus and Dakota. Much more responsible.

Then there was Robert. Wilson glanced at him once, then he looked back again. What was that man wearing? Mouth open, he slowly pointed toward the suit. “How did you…? Um, nevermind, actually. Nevermind.”

Somehow, Jerry had managed to make it back to the lobby. Waiting on his own for the others had been fine enough, he had given his bag with his change of clothes to the concierge to bring up to the room, and found an ornate cushioned bench to wait on to save his leg.

He was feeling... good. Good for Jordan, even if his taste in men was very questionable. Let them have a bit of fun. He wondered what Sasha was up to... hopefully enjoying herself with some girl time, maybe. Hopefully not spending said girl time with a certain Doctor.

Don't think about it. He pulled out the second tiny bottle of liquor, unscrewing the lid as he listened happily to the radio playing in the lobby. Just a tiny sip. Make it last. He tapped his cane to the music. This was a nice song! It must have come out since his recruitment, he hadn't heard it before.

It was easy enough to hum along to.

His feet were tapping. It had been so long since he had that warm feeling. It felt so wonderful, oh this was going to be a wonderful night. And his leg was feeling better and better between the cane and the numbing alcohol in his system.

By the time the others had made it down to join him, he was merrily dancing, rehearsing the timing needed with the added cane to the steps he knew, humming along happily as the song continued, looking sharp in his new suit and expensive tie Jordan had treated him to.