Competition (open)

"I think I've got time enough for one dance, but after that I should see about tending to this evening's affairs."

Her lips turned upward in a smirk.

"Oh, but that's because you haven't actually danced with me. Come, there might need to be at least three dances."

Ali looked to Victor's table to see if he needed another drink or refill, then checked out the club, another glance at the door, and then back to taking care of the bar patrons.

Chase nodded once, "Alright, I suppose tonight is turning into a night of firsts..."

To that, her brow simply raised as she took Chase's hand and led him toward the dance floor.

"Oh, come now. You almost make it sound as though you are an innocent virgin. We both know you are not; even when it comes to dancing. This may be our first dance, Mister Covington, but I'm going to expect it to not be the last."

Ali texted quickly as they got up to dance. Then went back to tenong bar.

He smiled, "Some would argue that each of us dances each night. It just depends on who's playing the tune."

Following her to the dance floor, it would quickly become obvious that Chase was no stranger to the art of dance either, in any permutation of the art.

And neither was Amunet.

The thing was, she was a magnificent dancer. She also had no real concept of personal space on the dance floor. It wasn't a stiff, arm's length first dance. Not for the brunette. She wasn't shy about getting close to Chase, wasn't shy about pressing her body to his in time with the music.

What she didn't do, however, was get all Miley Cyrus up in there. She also wasn't grinding against him (unless the music seemed to call for it) and she wasn't, unlike some ways of things, trying to use the dance as any sort of substitute for sex.

Ali texted more and watched the show, the door and the bar.

The tall German walked through the door. Still dressed in blue scrubs, but he was there, at least. He looked exhausted, too, but that didn't matter. He just kind-of appeared in the doorway.

Ali saw him and her work smile instantly changed to a real smile seeing him.

He glanced at the dance floor and lifted one eyebrow as he walked toward the bar and the girl standing behind it. The question was clearly on his face.

Dafuq?

"Been my night." Nodding to the dance floor then Victor and touching her ear piece. "I should of told you to go home."

He sidled up to the bar and sat down -- ignoring the stares he got for wearing medical scrubs.

"Nah, it's okay. What in the hell is going on in here?"

He just looked confused.

"No clue.  Been like this since I came on." Looking around again "want a beer?"

His brows just rose.

"Huh. Griselda aware that her man is getting down and dirty with another woman?"

"Yeah she's taping it."

At that, he started to laugh. Truly laugh.

"She's taping it? I'm going to have to guess that the lady is a friend, then. Otherwise, there would be table-flipping and all sorts of hell being raised right now."

"Yes but I've been feeling like a gazelle. In a herd of lions all night." Very softly spoken.

At that, his brow rose.

"Then it sounds like you and I need to go and have a talk. Sooner rather than later."

She rose an eye brow at is statement then leaned over and whispered to him, then looked back at him. Before he could reply she had to take care of the bar, which she did quickly then came back to him. "Is this an at home conversation?" she asked softly.

He nodded.

"Yes, Ali. It's an at-home conversation. Or, at least, it's a private conversation between you and I only."

She nodded to him, "you can go downstairs if you want or head home and I'll see you tomorrow." with a smile at him.

He shook his head.

"No, Ali. Now. Tell Griselda that I will be down to explain it to her and that she'll need to take the floor."

For once, he seemed to be brooking no argument on that subject.

She knew the tone, so she hit the talk button, quietly explained to her Boss what Medwyn said and looked at him with a raised eye brow. After a moment she nodded her head yes to him and tilted her head towards the elevator.