Razin spotted Katz, steadying himself with a slight smile as he made his way across the room, weaving amongst the dancers and the tables, pausing to collect a glass of vodka, slamming it back in the hopes it would provide some Dutch courage.
He smiled as he reached Alvin, feeling the trepidation that haunted him of late. "Alvin."
Katz turned, his eyes lighting up in pleasure, reaching out to touch Razin lightly on the arm, "Merry Christmas Stenka."
Razin nodded, "this time last year it was Vodka and cigarettes in the Social Credit, this is definitely... warmer."
"Christmas should be warm," Katz replied his smile broadening. "I..."
Both of them stopped at the dull thump, as the gun dropped to the ground between the ragged looking James and Comrade Mao.
"Oh hell no..." Razin uttered, bending down to scoop up the gun and quickly stuffing it into the small of his back. "You two want to fight, do it where no one can see you. This is a party, and you..." he nodded to Mao, "are an Officer of the Fighter Corps."