Marcus gave her a look. "I only dance at formal functions. With Isolde." And occasionally his Mum, as a dutiful son. Very rarely with anyone else, unless it was expected, and only if he couldn't manage to avoid it. The idea of being out there on that floor, dancing like that, just didn't fit. This wasn't his usual type of club. Although he wouldn't be surprised if some of the usual sorts of activities still went on in the back rooms.
He discarded that thought as soon as it occurred, the idea of a back room meeting not interesting to him at all. Fuck. He was just so fucked.
Marcus refilled his glass and took another long gulp. "S'been shite," he grumbled. "Half the staff on the trials, the other half still hunting DEs, and just a few of us picking up all the rest of the shite that's still going on. Think folks're being even more of idiots, thinking no one'll be looking at a bit of thievery when there're DEs on the loose. Might as well just move into the fucking DMLE."