John-Jamie happily followed a long, led like a lamb to the slaughter. He was full of glee when she took his hand and then she was playing with the tassels and other things on his jacket. Oh he so hoped that Ringo-Jamie was watching! He was smiling and simply elated and then... Oh God he hoped Ringo-Jame was not watching!
Panic welled up in him as the accusations started to fly, and poor John-Jamie was so overwhelmed and lost he did not even have words to defend himself. He kept waving his hands before his chest, trying to insist that he had done no such thing, but no one seemed to listen or care. Shit! "Wait!" He called out. "I didn't!" It was too late, the tide had turned against him. There had already been one Jamie Dupe making all sorts of unwanted sexual advances around the Haven, it seemed a portion of the guests, at least, had not forgotten.
"Hey!" The dual cry came out from opposite ends of the room. Jamie Prime, dressed in a tail coat and no pants, went pushing his way through the crowd, where as George-Jamie had just stepped in from outside, and was much closer. Both made a bee line for the bewildered dupe, but George-Jamie got there first. A quick grab, a flash of gold light, and John-Jamie was gone. "That is not the way to get girls, my friend," George-Jamie muttered in annoyance.
Prime reached the spot just a few moments later, pinching at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fight off a headache. "Ok, sorry, everyone. I didn't screen my dupes too well. Sorry. Really. It's... he's... Ma'am?" He called after the fleeing Rogue, who seemed to have no intention of turning back. "...Sorry. Rats." He sighed weakly, shoulders dropping. George-Jamie stood near Prime, a small frown on his lips. That was odd. Absorbing the dupe should have given him the memories, but all he got was honest confusion. Either something was up or they had dementia growing somewhere inside them. He would have to bring that up to Prime later.