Getting back to work with a reduced staff due to the plague thing had been tough, seriously tough. It had been all that Gabriel could do all week not to show up drunk or stoned or both, so when Friday rolled around and he had a place to do it in, and people who'd make sure he didn't end up rolled over in a gutter somewhere with someone frantically calling his brother to identify his remains? He was there.
And carrying two buckets of frozen margaritta, regular and strawberry. Because you had to bring some kind of hostess gift, right?