2200
The newly arrived captain had spent the vast majority of the night dancing with some of the more bolder girls who approached him, and he wouldn't have had it any other way. The men in his previous squadron had joked that Captain Doubletree should have gone to Hollywood to be the next Fred Astaire rather than join up in the ranks in the first place, and Sam certainly had a celebrity-sized ego to boot. He knew he was a good dancer. He was the kind of good dancer that could clear the floor and have the others all watch him and his partner as he flipped her over his shoulder, did all the fancy Lindy Hop moves, and was the life of the party, as it were.
It was also a good way to make a good first impression, which was what Captain Doubletree was all about. First impressions were all that mattered.
After an hour or three of dancing with a good fraction of the girls in the place, Sam found himself needing a rest. The girl in the blue dress who was still reeling over the attention she got from the clapping crowd as well as the handsome American with the cowboy accent (her words, and Sam was getting a bit annoyed of hearing it pointed out to him, too) begged and pleaded him to stay.
"No, no, honey, I gotta' get me a drink. You want one?" Sam asked as he finally pried his hand free from the woman, who still pouted as if she thought it was becoming for a twenty-three year old to look like a hound dog.
"Nooooo, I'm fiiine," she crooned, already looking around for her new dance partner, as if waiting for a minute or so was too long.
Sam shrugged and walked away, long strides to the food table, making a beeline for a cold cuts sandwich and a glass of punch. An older woman served him with a firm, English smile, one he found slightly off-putting, and made him wonder if perhaps his hair was all messed up. "Sir, you're sweating," she pointed out, handing him a napkin.
"Well yeah I'm sweatin', didja' see me out there?" Sam laughed, a bit out of breath from the hours of swing dancing.
The woman looked unimpressed and served the next man in line.