Kaz blinks at Drew. "You didn't. Say anythin' stupid. It's ok, really. I mean -- it wasn't your fault, y'know?"

Drew shrugs uncomfortably. "I probably shoulda known about--something. Anyways," she shakes her head, jerks a thumb over her shoulder towards the gathering. "Looks pretty good out there. You happy with the way it's goin'?"

To John's chagrin, the boring-looking young man in glasses, next to him, decides that he'll engage in conversation, after all. "So, uhm... saw you that thing with the security... what do you do, then? Plainclothes security?" he asks, eagerly.

Kaz says, quietly, "You'll know, for future use, y'know?" At the Kin's question, Kaz stuffs her hands in her pockets and grins. "Gonna get a /lot/ of money for the Project. An' I just passed, too. So /yeah/." She seems, finally, to be coming out of her shock.

Buick lifts a hand, waving it to draw attention. "Um. Ladies and Gentlemen, I've been asked..." He pauses briefly, and then starts again, serving as his own ASL interpreter. "I've been asked to say a few words before the auction ends."

More of the diners look up. They are, after all, almost all the way through dessert, by now.

Drew blinks once, twice--peering closely at Kaz. "Whaddaya mean, you passed--your challenge?"

The metis, practically bursting with glee, nods. "Elan tol' me so. Which's why I was lookin' like a horse ran over me."

John looks to Buick, and pushes his plate away. Looking to the man next to him, he grunts, "No. Professional killer, illegal narcotics on the side." before standing, and moving to intercept another waiter - obviously angling to grab some wine and head towards the paintings to see if it's worth placing a bid, as Buick speaks.

Seirian collects a glass of water to sip at while she and Alec direct their attentions towards Buick.

Drew claps a hand over her mouth, stifling a shriek as she pulls Kaz into a bearhug.

Kaz looks a little overwhelmed, still, but she eventually bearhugs back, if a little weakly.

Buick says "I'd like... I'd like, first off, to have a round of applause for every single one of the volunteers whose time and sweat and toil and tears has made this event possible. Will the people in the cheaper seats clap your hands, and the rest of you, if you'll just rattle your jewelry?"

Drew grins and squeezes the metis fiercely, rasping, "I *knew* you were gonna get it." She clears her throat and pulls back, ruffling Kaz's hair. "So now you're Big Bad Fostern, huh?"

This humor goes over some people's heads, who clap in a bit of frozen applause. Others, more able to laugh at themselves and the world in general, applaud with various levels of amusement.

John chuckles at the speech, pausing in his appraisal of a few works by R. Vencenzo, to look at Buick with an amused smile.

Kaz says, awkwardly, "I ain't a Big Bad /nothin'/. But, yeah. Thanks."

Seirian puts the glass down with a chuckle and applauds lightly, as does Alec, with a smile.

Buick tries not to smile. "And Moose, there in the back--the big guy with the big grin--he's a mite deef, so make sure you applaud really loud when you congratulate yourselves. Because without you, we /really/ couldn't have pulled this off."

Moose smiles sheepishly and waves a little.

Some of the people do, in fact, applaud louder.

Drew grins, rubbing at the back of her neck and loosening her tie a fraction. "You deserve it, babe. Congratulations."

Seirian applauds louder and smiles, leaning forward to collect her glass again.

Kaz just smiles, almost shyly, and very awkwardly. "Thanks," she mutters, and then adds, "Good outfit."

John's attention returns to the books by some of the works, and the Walker actually pales at some of the bids. Colour drains from his face, and he reaches into his jacket to inspect a little black book, carefully.

Drew blushes and ducks her head. "Yeah, well. With the haircut and all, I figured--" She shrugs, straightens her jacket, and glances towards the door. "Sounds like someone's making a speech," she murmurs. "C'mon, we're missing the party."

Buick loosens his own tie a little. "I'm... my name is Buick Williams. I'm in charge of the Regan Hope Project, downtown. I brought one of our... Luis, sitting next to Moose there, the cute kid who's supposed to be tugging at your heartstrings and not smearing pudding all over Moose's nice shirt. He and his mom have been staying at the shelter for nearly a month now. She's gotten vocational training, and she's gotten a job, and next week she's moving into her own apartment again. In the meantime, he's gotten medical treatment and schooling and the invaluable gift of love and support. And it's all thanks to generous people like you."

Kaz shrugs. "It works well," she mumbles, and pokes her head out the kitchen door, to watch.

There's prolonged applause that's only slightly self conscious, now.

The reporters are lapping this up. The one we now know as 'lanky turd' pulls out a camera, to catch the kid smearing pudding. Cute.

John look between Buick and the book with the lowest bid on it, and then sighs defeatedly, looking at his little black book. He scrawls down a number, and then proceeds to close the auction book and stand guard over it, like some melancholy sentinel.

Seirian settles into a chair after a bit, Alec standing just behind her, watching and listening while she gives her feet a rest.

Drew stands by the kitchen doorway to watch, scanning the guests as she half-listens to Buick's speech.

Buick says "It's our city. And we have the choice to act to keep it ours--charity dinners like this, volunteering at a hospital, the Big Brother program, planting flowers at Osprey park... any one of a thousand different ways to make the world we live in a better, brighter place. And trust me, it's a choice well worth making, ladies and gentlemen. Because it not only makes our world better, it also makes /you/ better."

Kaz rolls her eyes slightly, but the rest of the crowd appears to be lapping it up.

Pack> Max calls faintly over the link. Zeeeeeeee-eeeeee.

Pack> Kaz, if one can perk up over a pack link, most certainly does so. "Yo?"

Buick says "There's something we say a lot around the Project, especially when we have to do something we don't want to do." He continues signing, fingers moving rapidly. "It's all about love. And in closing, I just want to say it again, because it /is/ all about love. Thank you all, very much.""

Buick bows his head slightly, and then moves back toward his seat.

The crowd, as a whole, breaks into applause. Kaz thumps on the kitchen door. Some of the more enthusiastic among them even rise to their feet.

As Buick slides into his chair, Whitey leans over and kisses his cheek. Flashbulbs pop as those who were prepared catch the photo-op.

Pack> Max's connection is thready, or perhaps static with some sort of effort. 'Back door's locked.' she complains.

John lifts his hand from the auction book, only to join in with the applause, but when someone looks like approaching, his hand slips back down firmly and his head shakes minutely. No. Go away.

Seirian and Alec applaud enthusiastically, smiles on both faces from the speech.

Drew lifts her hands to clap a few times, but for the most part lets the crowd voice her own appreciation.

Kaz gets a sudden thoughtful look on her face, and disappears into the kitchen again.

Pack> Kaz says "What, /this/ back door?"

Pack> Max is quite tangibly on the other side of the door if the link is any indication. Possibly Bernie too. There's a brief irritation with locks in general.

Kaz manages to knock over only about two pans while she's getting to the back door.

Pack> Bernie's there, all right, but quiet. Just a presence. Maybe a slightly excited one.

Pack> Max | "Odd that Bernie didn't just unlock the door. Maybe her hands are full? Too much else to think about to dwell on that shaky logic. When Kaz opens the door to the the outside from the kitchen, she doesn't immediately see her packmates. A step through the doorway and outside proper leads her to catch sight of them immediately to her left. Bernie and Max are -- between and above the two of them -- holding a /large/ white-gold-crimson beverage cooler of rather significant size. By the time Kaz realizes that a /very/ unnatural orange, chilled liquid is dumping on her head, it's far too late. Max whoops loudly, laughing. "Fuckin' elders," she murmurs under her breath and through the laughter. "Think they know ev'rything.""

Drew glances over her shoulder at the ruckus Kaz causes on her way out, and grins to herself. She makes her way over to the artwork auction book unobtrusively, where she exchanges a few quiet words with John.

Pack> Bernie giggles as well as the payload is released, the purported "orange drink" -- which everyone knows refers merely to colour -- gushing in gallons from the plastic prison, all over Kaz and the surrounding floor. "...So congratulations," she remarks through the giggles as the flow begins to slow.

Pack> Kaz, in fact, walked right into that, and she doesn't even seem to care about the uniform, as she whoops loudly, and stands, dripping, for only a moment before going after /both/ of her packmates. It's kind of difficult to try and hug two people at once, but Kaz is certainly trying.

There's a muffled whoop from somewhere in the kitchen.

Buick lifts his head curiously at the noise, but only long enough to establish that nobody's on fire.

Pack> Max and Bernie drop the McDonalds cooler and from somewhere Max pulls out a Burger King Crown. Swiped into a sticky orange hug she laughs more, trying to place the cardboard on Kaz's damp, sticky hair.

John merely nods agreement, before looking wistfully to the book. Chewing his lip, he turns to Drew and offers his arm. "Let's go. Past your bedtime."

Pack> Kaz manages to be utterly squirmy while still letting Max put crowns on her head. "Fuckin' /A/, people!"

Seirian rolls her shoulders a little bit in her seat and looks up at Alec. A small murmured conference goes between the two and Seiri stands, taking Alec's hand in hers again. Looking back at the proceedings once more the pair move to make their way out as inobtrusively as possible.

Pack> Bernie returns the hug, sugary moistness and all, still laughing as well. Extracting herself a moment, she takes a few steps away to a bush, from which she pulls a carefully folded thing that, unfolded, has little right to be treated carefully; it's a somewhat tatty cape-thing, reddish slightly-stained satin with very, very fake fur edges. This, she flings about Kaz's shoulders. It goes well with the crown. "Nice goin', Mama Kaz," she declares, grinning mischievously.

Eventually, someone begins announcing the winners of the various auctions; John Smith, apparently, got some art.

Pack> Kaz, even now, winces just slightly at that name, but she merely repeats, grinning fiercely, completely mindless from happiness, "Fuckin' A, B, /and/ C!"

Drew and John exit, without so much as a by-your-leave to anyone else. John smiles with some satisfaction as they walk out the door, giving Drew's hand on his arm a brief squeeze and leaning down to touch a kiss to her ear. She blushes, shrinking away just a little, and they murmur quietly as they walk out onto Market Street.

There's occasional muffled exclamations from out in the back. But they're hard to notice.

Pack> Max drags backward too, her gaze glimmering at Bernie's choice of names. "Z'it a fuckin' round-up in there?"

Pack> Kaz flips her cape, as if she were a courtier. "It's a whole buncha people actin' as if they give a shit. An' hey, maybe they do. Me, I'm just fuckin' glad the thing's /over/." She adds, after a moment, looking down at herself, "How the fuck'm I gonna clear dessert in this thing, now?" She doesn't sound as if she really cares, however.

Pack> Max simply smirks, resting her forearm across Bernie's shoulder. "Dunno, but I's watchin'."

Pack> Kaz snorts. "I jus' bet." There's a pause, and she adds, "Actually, it don't really need no more babysitting, I don't think."

Things seem to be winding down. More of the auction winners are announced, the dessert is cleared, and the reporters head home to file stories, yawning.

Pack> Bernie just keeps grinning. She blinks, glancing at Max, and then back toward the bush that yielded the cape. "You wanna, or should I?" she murmurs to her fellow ragabash.

Pack> Max shifts her weight and gives Bernie an it's-all-yours look, her gaze sliding back to the new fostern somewhat assessingly.

Pack> Kaz | Given as the new Fostern is dripping orange-aid and wearing a goofy Burger King crown and a ratty cape, she wouldn't, normally, look like all that much, to most eyes. But there's a fierce happiness in there, an energy, that somehow obscures, at least a little, the utter ridiculousness of the situation.

Pack> Bernie shrugs cheerfully and steps away again, this time producing a cane from the foliage. Dark wood, straight up and down, with what looks like it was probably a doorknob, once, for a handle -- a blue glass knob, roundish, faceted to catch the light. The kind of thing you can sometimes find in a thrift store for a buck or so, on its own. This she presents to Kaz with exaggerated formality, as she returns.

Pack> Kaz stares at the thing blankly. "Huh?"

Pack> Kaz | Eventually, Kaz figures out just what the hell it is, and snorts, softly. "Uh. No," is her only comment, though she does't take any of it off as she abandons the benefit completely and heads off, resisting the urge to noogie people incessantly, toward the Rialto. Indeed, she only noogies them each once, before she stops, and just starts singing at the top of her lungs. So Max and Bernie have to listen to "We are the Champions" all the way back.