Police balls were both a blessing and a curse. If Quin was being completely honest with herself, she had to admit that she liked the opportunity to dress up. Too many people thought she was a total tom boy because she worked so hard to be part of the boy's club at work. This gave her a chance to let her proverbial hair down and be one of the girls. The problem was...that launched her right back into the 'one of the girls' category. There was a delicate balance there somewhere that probably involved a practical dress and hair.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen.

Not having anyone to dress up for was no deterrent, and the redhead knew she looked good. Her dress was plum...not purple, and her heels were a little higher than they probably should have been, considering the amount of dancing and walking people tended to do at these things.

Still. It was going to be a fun night, and Quin didn't have anyone attached to her arm. It was honestly kind of nice. Better, at least, then dwelling on her lack of date. It had been a personal choice, a valid decision on her part to show up unattached.

She did, however, need to find someone to hang out with. Ashton was supposed to be around somewhere, and so were the other members of MRC. Finding them in the crowd was another thing all together, and the urge to call out, "MARCO" was growing.

"Well, it's really nice to meet your wife Kealey, Shinbo," Ashton bobble-headed. One quick handshake, and he was out of there on polite smiles and waves.

Now, where was Archer...

There were many officers at the ball, as well as some important public service workers for the city. He saw the mayor, some fellow MRC people, some other city workers (all dressed demurely, like they were afraid of going all out). Nobody was by the punch bowl. Maybe he needed a map? 'You are here. She is here. Go go go.' Naw.

He would make do. And while he did, he would just think on how much one's life could change in a few short months. Married. Dear god. That poor, poor kid.

Punch was definitely going to be a good idea tonight. Especially if someone spiked it. Yes this was a police function, and yes there were members of the force who acted like they were in a fraternity. Even when the action had been invalidated by the presence of a cash bar.

Thank God. If there was one thing this party needed, it was free social lubricant. Apparently demure had been the order of the night and Quin was starting to feel like she stuck out like a sore thumb. Oh well. There was a possiblity of spiked punch!

To the punch bowl went the redhead, heels clicking all the way. She dipped the ladle into the red liquid while wondering if ladle was the right word and filled herself a cup.

She tasted. She smiled. Yup. The punch had definitely been spiked.

Oh hey. There was Ashton.

"Howdy Partner." she said, holding up her punch glass in a salute.

He held up his glass, too. "Hey," Took a sip... and instantly dumped it out into the trash. He frowned at the punch bowl. "Ugh. You'd think police officers would be more law-abiding..."

Apparently, he was an old grandpa when it came to punch bowl-spiking. It smacked of bad memories and dark thoughts. He'd heard enough horror stories about people getting drunk without realizing it, and doing things they regretted (or didn't remember) later to be okay with people stealthily poisoning others with alcohol. At least with the Pay-Bar, people knew what they were getting.

He glanced around. "Who do we talk to about this?"

Quin giggled. Yes...giggled.

"If this is the worst abuse of power we ever see out of the NYPD Ashton...I think we should consider ourselves lucky."

It took her a moment to realize that he was serious. The spiked punch was going to be a problem. He wanted to report it.

Frowning a bit, the redhead glanced around the party.

"Honestly, I don't know. I always thought it was kind of a tradition..."

Suddenly the drink in her hand wasn't as appealing as it had been. She set it to the side with a small, whistful sigh.

"I'm sure the guys with the little h'ours d'erves will be able to do something though."

She glanced around, looking for one of them to fix the punch.

The punch bowl had been important. It had been a big deal. But then he noticed what she was wearing, and all he could say was: "Eh. It'll be fine. Want to dance?"

She was beautiful. The outfit didn't hurt, either.

As he smiled at her, a couple approached the punch bowl behind him. One poured his date a cup, took a sip of his own, and fist pumped. "Score!"

Ashton really didn't care.

Quin had just found a likely wait-staff candidate to fix the punch bowl situation when Ashton suddenly decided that everything was going to be okay and that it was apparently time to dance.

Did she want to?

Quin couldn't help but cast a quick glance at that punch glass she'd set aside. Why did she suddenly feel like she needed liquid courage? Maybe it was because Ashton just seemed like the kind of guy who probably knew how to dance better than she did. He also wore his suit well...something she hadn't really noticed before.

"I thought you'd never ask." she said with a smile.

There weren't a lot of people on the dance floor, after all, and if alcohol wasn't going to be an effective social lubricant, then maybe dancing would be.

The music was strictly ballroom, with real instruments. This wasn't the type of shindig to have hip hop booty shaking, bumping, or grinding. Real talented musicians didn't really play that.

Ashton took her hand as a man crooned on a saxophone and piano played, leading her out into the fray.

Some people had already started dancing. Had been for a while. The mayor and his wife were dancing. So was Judge Turner and his girlfriend, and another elderly judge dancing with his daughter. Not everyone on the dance floor were romantic couples. Some were just having fun. The music was ballroom, not ballroom slow dancing romantic. Ashton probably wouldn't have been ready for that kind of leap. Still, this would be nice.

They stopped, and he moved her with her hand so she was standing in front of him, then let go and moved to put a hand on her waist while his other hand caught hers.

Dancing.

Quin was more used to the kind of music that would have been in the hip hop booty shaking clubs. That's what had been around when she'd been in high school and college, that's where her friends had gone, and that's how everyone had danced. Mostly, Quin had stood on the outskirts of those dance floors, watching the spectacle and bemoaning the fact that she couldn't dance very well.

This type of dancing...was something she didn't have much experience with. She could sway alright, but this wasn't really swaying music. In all honesty, that was a relief. Swaying might have been awkward. This was just going to be fun, she just had to let him lead.

He moved her with her hand, and Quin smiled a bit nervously as they assumed the traditional dancing position, with hands in hands and hands on hips and hands on shoulders and all that jazz.

"Just so you're fairly warned, I've never done this."

Ashton smiled back at her. "It takes some getting used to," he said. "Be grateful you don't have any squeamish boys wondering if they're going to break you or get labeled as perverts if they do it right. And be thankful I learned how to dance from the best..."

The best, he didn't illuminate, were male leads from old movies. Not one particular lead, more an amalgamation. When he said best, he meant it. And truth be told, he'd also learned stuff from the more recent movie dancers, too. That included shaking butts.

Ashton took lead. "Just follow."

Quin chuckled nervously as Ashton spoke. Squeamish boys? Oh no, he was anything but that. He really did know what he was doing too, she could tell from the way he talked that he wasn't bluffing about his skill.

The man was apparently full of surprises.

He told her to follow, and the redhead actually laughed out loud as they started to move. She didn't have much experience following in dance, but over the last year and a half she'd definitely learned to follow directions.

"When have I ever not?"

"When you lead," He smirked.

He recalled a few times she'd taken lead. They weren't huge times, weren't even cop times. Some where just in the kitchen, but there they were. She wasn't trying to lead here, though, which was good. She was even keeping up.

So, he kept on leading her in the dance.

And so they danced.

It went pretty well, Quin made a couple of miss-steps and they only found her trying to lead once. Ashton really was a good dancer, and it was so much fun dancing that Quin almost forgot she was in heels.

The funny thing about heels, was that as soon as she thought about the fact that she was wearing them, they got harder to move in.

The current song stopped, and there was that awkward moment when everyone worried that the next would be a slow dance. It wasn't though, so Quin smiled at her partner, cheeks flushed and grinning.

"Go again?"

Ashton never forgot about the heels. Their presence, the feel of them on his toes once or twice, and their function... all stood out in his memory.

Quin wasn't a terrible dancer. Ultimately, she had things to learn, but when she asked if he was ready for another round, he did not cringe away. Instead, he smirked at her. "Yep."

If anyone in the force questioned two partners dancing, to hell with them. It wasn't like they were kissing.

And so they danced for one more song, then made their way off the dance floor like any respectable partners would. It was only right ,after all. Anyway, the punch bowl was still there, waiting to be sipped on.

As they filled their glasses, and sipped on the spiked punch, Quin looked around at all the dancers and party-goers. Sometimes it was really cool to be on the force.

"I have to admit. This is something that I look forward to each year. Do you always come?"