"Yup," he answered shortly, either because he was uncomfortable with his current company or unimpressed by Bowie. A little of both, maybe. Happy shuffled, antsy, from foot to foot and then shoved a shrimp in his mouth to avoid having to use it for talking. It needed the cocktail sauce, so he reached over and scooped a dollop of it on his plate. He was thinking how maybe the crab cakes weren't worth missing his chance to avoid her completely; he took an experimental nibble and decided nah, it was actually totally worth it.
Eating seafood in awkward silence while his baby's one time kidnapper watched was probably verging on weird, and so Happy decided to end the not quite conversation and move past her towards the next delicacy at the buffet- right as two strangers swooped in and started chatting with the guy carving up roast beef. Thwarted again. Well, Happy was not going to sacrifice some kick ass roast beef on Wicked's account, she was not worthy of any red meat abstention.
There was nothing for it, he'd have to talk to her. "Got your wedding invitation," he offered, somewhat uncertainly and still muttering. That seemed like a polite and neutral kind of topic to chat about until the beef bogarts went on their merry way. Happy shoveled another shrimp into his mouth.