Pressing a small little kiss to her pale little knuckles, Lorne then wraps her hand around the bend of his arm and escorts her to the back exit - neatly circumventing the dance floor.

"Heads up, sweetie. Angus is a big fellow, and one day, I swear you'll open your favorite dictionary and find his mugshot illustrating 'grim'. Never fear, though, he's a teddy bear. He's just not out of the closet yet."

A closet teddy bear? There are worse things to be, certainly.

Big, looming figure haloed by the streetlight outside. Leaning against the trunk of the car. Big, looming figure with horns that'd make any ram green with envy.