He isn't nervous. Not yet proven to be a man in possession of nerves, Jim swans into the little gathering, doing his best to ignore both Bones' dish of sweet yams lest he eat it all, and the fact that Bones is wearing khakis - khakis - lest he do something equally untoward.

He's happy enough to eat his fill - and maybe a little more of his share where the yams are concerned - to pretend to be a man who enjoys wine, and definitely chokes down his fair share there, rosy cheeked and grinning pleasantly by the time dessert rolls around.

Even now, he's not entirely sure what today's about, but it feels like something he'd have done at home with his crew, and that's enough to keep Jim content in his chair, passing the occasional appraising glance at those khakis.