(Target sighted,) sends Uchiha unit UG-7-SA through his secure connection, along with a picture of the booth and all its occupants. He can only identify three of them. He would stay in real-time transmission, but the databursts have to be short or they'd be noticed and cracked. He receives confirmation from Detective Hatake, and an order to mingle as he waits. After that it's radio silence again. He lifts his glass to his lips and takes a sip of some strangely colored alcohol he cannot taste and which won't have any effect on him regardless. The H2O will be filtered and used; the alcohol flushed out.
He's a little... giddy anyway, though he pretends he isn't; he doesn't want to be called a babybot again. It's his first solo mission, and the radio silence means independence.
"What a girly drink!" someone says as they worm their way in his line of sight.
SA has calibrated himself to transmit his emotional reactions straight to his face fast, so the microsecond of delay won't give the humans he interacts with a subconscious feeling of unease; he frowns before he's thought better of it. It's the interruption that bothers him, more than the implied insult.
"I like it," he replies, giving the interloper a blank stare. He does, at that, taste notwithstanding. It's got layers. Purple and blue. Interesting.
The blond man laughs, loud and free, and his elbow nudges SA's arm. He's seen the behavior before, but never directed at him, so he can't help but glance down at his arm in baffled annoyance before he looks back up.
Shit. He was supposed to mingle. He's tempted to deny, not sure what betrayed him, but an argument would be too distracting. He needs to keep the target in view. "... To this place, yeah."
The blond snorts and eyes him doubtfully. "You can't stay stuck at the bar all night, that's like for pathetic losers and people with two left feet."
Which he doesn't care about. But looking out of place? That he does care. His orders were clear. He frowns a little more.
The blond tilts his head, eyes narrowed as he stares at SA openly. After a moment, he grins. There's a challenge in there that rubs SA the wrong way.
"D'you need me to teach you how to dance? And don't worry about imposing, I'm nice with all the newbs."
... Okay, that's it. SA checks on his target again. Still hasn't moved, doesn't look likely to move for a while. No new transmission. Last order said to mingle.
They never said 'how'.
"I don't need you to teach me anything," he says, and finishes
his glass, and leads the way to the dance floor.