"Why are we here again?"
"Because Penny asked us to be." Gordon answered from across the room, straightening his bow tie in the mirror.
"No, that's why you're here. We all know that you would do anything she asked of you. Got you wrapped around her little finger."
"Hey - " Gordon began, but was stopped by a stern look from Scott, who was tying the shoelaces on his finest, shiniest, squeakiest pair of shoes.
"No fighting, not tonight. I can't deal with that. Besides you know it's true Gordon." Gordon went back to his adjustments, silent, yet shooting daggers in Alan's direction.
"Lady Penelope doesn't ask much of us, so we are doing her a favour by attending her party." Scott told him. "And tuck in your shirt."
"She doesn't like it when you call it a party." Virgil said, looking up from fastening his cufflinks. "It's a ball. There are going to be ballgowns. It's in a ballroom. There's going to be ball music."
"Ball music isn't a thing." Gordon scoffed.
"Wanna bet?"
"No."
"No betting." Scott glared at Virgil. "No dares," he told Gordon. "You are staying away from the alcohol," like Alan would even want to drink, it was disgusting. "But you can go crazy on the buffet. And you," he turned to John who had been leaning against the wall. "No running off."
John had been the first one ready: tux, tie, shoes – and had spent the last ten minutes fiddling with something on his phone. "I don't intend to."
"Not going to come up with some sort of 'emergency' which means you need to leave the room full of scary strangers?" Gordon goaded, at last finished with the mirror and sweeping on his suit jacket.
"EOS is monitoring so I don't have to. And they aren't strangers. I've been through all the invites and know exactly who is attending. No surprises this time."
"You've researched them all?"
"Yep." John's gaze was steely and tone unrepentant. There was going to be no Hood tonight, no plunges to uncertain death.
Alan looked in the mirror, his brand new tux still crisp and weird smelling. The shirt was slightly too large round the shoulders, the shoes pinching just slightly. His brothers arrayed themselves behind him, all incredibly dashing and confident while he was uncomfortable and awkward.
Scott put a hand on his shoulder "You'll do fine Alan. Make small talk, be yourself. Come find any of us if you need to." He squeezed slightly. "Dad would be proud."
"I get first dance with Penny!" Gordon yelled, rushing out the room.
"For gods sake, don't run Gordon, we're meant to be showing a bit of decorum." Scott yelled after him.
Alan followed his brothers as they filled out of the guest suite, 'ball music' - whatever that was – floating down the corridor from the orchestra below, determined to live up to the Tracy name.
