You wander around the party for a bit before taking a seat near Hank and the rest of his DEA buddies. As you approach, the group nods and raises their glasses. Hank grins and raises his as well.
"Man of the hour!" As he takes a drink, Gomez speaks up.
"How does it feel hitting the big 5-0, Walt?"
"Not as bad as I thought it'd be. Pretty exciting day, all in all." Hank's eyes light up for a second.
"Oh, we <span class="mu-i">get</span> exciting. Ended up having some real action of our own. DEA nabbed a pretty big meth operation over on the south side. Lab and all." Gomez smiles at that.
"Should be on the news in just a little bit," he says. You can't help but raise your eyebrows and feel impressed. You're constantly reminded that Hank isn't just some beer-loving, off-color guy; he's the real deal. It feels good to have him as a relative, but you can't help but feel small compared to him (ironically you are the taller one). Your thoughts are interrupted by Hank's boisterous laughter.
"You should've been there, Walt. The look on their faces when we kicked in the door— priceless."
"Must've been like something out of a movie," you say. Agent Jaime, behind Hank, chuckles.
"No movies in our line of work. That's reality for all of us." The rest of the group gives a sort of affirming, yet knowing nod.
"Ain't that the truth," Gomez says. "We don't go in guns blazing, we end up being the ones with guns in our faces." Hank stops drinking for a moment.
"Oh, speaking of guns, you all should've seen this guy at the range. Like, really seen him. Never held a gun in his life, but after seeing him shoot, could've told me he was a pro and I wouldn'tve doubted it for a second." He goes on to talk about your performance at the range, and you just bashfully smile at the reactions from everyone around you. As people gather near you, Hank stands up.
"Everybody, listen up, listen up, listen up. I'm gonna give a toast— a little toast to my brother in law. C'mere," He motions for you to stand up and puts an arm around you when you do. "Walt, you got a brain the size of Wisconsin—" he pauses. "—but we're not gonna hold that against ya." The room erupts in laughter. Normally you'd be embarrased to hear this kind of joke, but you laugh along. You deserve a little ribbing after hearing your praises being sung for a while. He pats your chest. "But your heart's in the right place, man. Your heart's in the right place. We love you, man. We love you." He raises his drink.
"Everybody, to Walt. <span class="mu-i">Nostrovia.</span>" Everyone raises their glasses, including you.
"<span class="mu-i">Nostrovia!</span>" Everyone drinks. As your throat warms from the shitty craft beer Hank brought, you feel your heart warming as well. You can't put a finger on it, but this day seems too good to be true. It almost feels unreal, like it should've gone differently. But it hasn't, and you wouldn't change that for the world.
