Hopping out of the Chevy was going to be the least-awkward looking thing Stahlfritz would probably do for the rest of that afternoon.
That was a lot of money back there...I pull this off and everything from here on out is just for profit...
As he made his way in, Estellia spotted him fron the patio of thier apartment safehouse. She greeted him with a bright smile and a childish wave. Fritz couldn't help but smile back and return with his own non-chalant wave. Finally, the Tigress dissapeared back inside, letting him take off the metaphorical mask.
Do this wrong...and I'll probably be making some extra profit right off the bat too...
Knowing he was no Azzie when it came to the cons, Fritz took a detour to the little tea house right at his doorstep.
"Hey Fritz!" the Barista called only for hir smile to drop to a concerned frown. "Uh-oh..."
"Relax Woody, didn't lose my job, but..."
"Say no more. Probably not allowed to anyway." he smirked. "The usual?"
"Yeah...make it two and make 'em big." Fritz sighed.
Dumping a sizable spoonful of black tea leaves into a boiling pot "So...if I ask what's bad enough to warrant 2 Royal Thai Teas and isn't losing your job, you're not gonna...eliminate me, are you?"
"Only if I tell you which I won't."
"It's about stripes isn't it..." Woody retrived two things of milk from the fridge. He still kept the conversation without missing a beat with his work.
"...You ever read Catch-22?" Fritz examined a lemon scone and put it back in the basket.
"Yeah, why?" pouring the two drinks into a pair of extra-large cups. Woody's face lit up with realization. "...oh...well, I don't know much about the merc business and I don't know how much I can tell you about women."
"Relax, making me tea is good enough." he left a small stack of lien on the counter. "Keep the change; don't work too hard." picking up the drinks, the cyborg was now on his way towards the stairs. Why not the elevator? Any time he had to debate this conundrum was worth taking.