All in a day's work. ((open))

[un_voleur_moral]

Mathieu was strolling easily down a sidewalk somewhere in Manhattan when suddenly, with a smile that was both friendly and a little vulnerable, he cheerfully buttonholed a distracted looking woman with a kind face who was walking in the opposite direction.

“Excuse-moi, madame. Je suis perdu. Pouvez-vous m'aider?This was enough to temporarily stun

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[_call_me_snake_]

Snake was watching the crowd, he always did. Too many people wanted a piece of his hide so when he heard the flamboyant French his attention immediately turned to the man and woman down the block. Snake kept walking toward them until he stopped watching the man's hand. He had stolen enough to know what was happening. Sure he robbed banks, stole military vehicles but he would never thieve from a woman. The thought caused his blood to boil and he tailed the culprit into the coffee shop.

Glancing over the crowd he let the man sit before approaching. His voice was anything but quiet and razor cold. He was aiming to either start trouble himself or have the cops come and do it for him.

I think you owe that little lady an appology... and her wallet.

[un_voleur_moral]

Uh-oh.

Mathieu has been in this situation before, although never with a scary American with an eye patch playing the role of Good Samaritan. This is more than slightly disconcerting.

It would be best to disuse the situation before he decides to make a scene. He doesn’t spend his first night in America in jail.

Mathieu does not let on to his inner anxiety. He motions for the man to sit and speaks mainly into his cup of coffee.

“I though New Yorkers were supposed to be experts in minding their own business.”

[_call_me_snake_]

Snake glanced at the seat across from the thief and shook his head. Shame, I'm not a New Yorker.

Snake watched him carefully and shifted his weight so the man sitting in front of him could get a glimpse of the revolvers on his hip under his trenchcoat.

[un_voleur_moral]

Mathieu notices the guns, but doesn’t really wish to lay eyes on them for too long, averting his gaze towards the street.

“Those won’t be necessary. She’s gone now, anyway. If she wanted to keep it, perhaps she should have taken better care of it.”

[half_divine]

"You really shouldn't make a habit of that. I might shoot you in the foot next time."

This is said surprisingly cheerfully to the man while she grabs her own espresso. Her own accent is clearly Parisian, and perhaps a little thicker than his.

[un_voleur_moral]

Mathieu leans his head back and groans.

"Oh Good God, not here too. Not a Parisian. Please God, anything but that. I dealt with more than my fair share while at that hell on earth they refer to as the Sorbonne."

[half_divine]

"Yes, well. Terribly sorry to disappoint you."

She shakes her head and pointedly sits down in front of him. "You really should return that woman's purse. New York Police officers are not particularly forgiving."

[un_voleur_moral]

He rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, well, neither is my ex-wife. I have support her in the style in which she is accustomed to and unfortunately, the court system does not except alimony payments in the form of luxury goods which fell off the back of a truck, which is all I have in my apartment at the moment.”