New Years [closed]

[notasuggestion]

Who: Those invited... and those invited by those invited.
What: A modified New Year's tradition.
When: New Year's Eve
Warnings: Mercenaries and champagne. What's the worst that could happen?

Comments

[imadeabridge]

Vinny was kind of glad Milo had thought to toss him an invite to Helga's party- he could make an entrance. Or maybe just an impression. Then again, with the host being who she was, that probably wasn't the best idea.

After getting directions from someone he'd passed in the hallway to Lieutenant Sinclair's office, Vinny had wasted no time in strolling along to crash the party. Well, Milo had technically invited him, but crashing sounded cooler.

Remembering how Helga had once declared to him that she hated being intruded on without warning, Vinny knocked firmly on the door and crossed his arms to wait.

[notasuggestion]

"Come in," the lieutenant called from inside.

She glanced around the room once more. Anything personal (not that her office had hardly anything of the sort) was locked away in her filing cabinets. She wasn't about to give someone the opportunity to look through her papers or the like.

Not that she planned on drinking enough to be unaware. But just in case.

[imadeabridge]

Vinny stepped into the room and glanced around, quickly heading for one of the office chairs and spinning it around, so that he could rest his elbows on it's back as he sat down.

"Nice to see ya, Lieutenant." He sent a mock salute in her direction and played with the matchstick in his mouth, taking the time to look over the office more carefully.

[notasuggestion]

Helga arched an eyebrow as she watched him. She couldn't help but chuckle under her breath just a bit. Same old Vinny.

"Good evening, Mr. Santorini." She had to smirk, shaking her head slightly. "They finally manage to rope you into this place?"