For the record, no, O'Brien had not made the connection, yet. Maybe later on that night, if he survived the trek to City Hall, it would all click into place. But for now, he had absolutely no clue that Miss Machete was the Leah that had actually commented back and forth with him on the forums. Especially over her whole dislike of the internet. She was the one he made that long list of reasons why the intranet was a good thing for? Who knew?
"Well, I'm not. You make me sound like an idiot-- and I may be loud," he'd attracted the zombies, after all, had he not? "--and I'm not perfect and all of that, but I definitely knew how to do my job, and I did it well. I miss it, actually. So whatever you've got in your head about what kind of cop I was, you should just forget it, because you have no idea." So there, damnit. He didn't appreciate her insulting him as a cop. Before the world went to shit, it was all he had. He took it very seriously, and so what if he was 'happy-go-lucky', like she'd said? He got shit done, and he got it done right.
He nodded, keeping his eyes on her, though his frustrated frown was definitely still present; That's right. She'd said he could call her 'Stone', but he opted for Miss Machete. So they were even. She knew his last name, and he knew hers. And apparently useful was all that he needed to know, according to her. Good to know. She hated his guts.
He blinked, staring at her with a bit of shocked when she snapped at him, "I just killed a fucking zombie for you, and I agreed to cover your ass-- and you're suggesting I'm not being useful? And I'd like to see your face if someone told you you had to make a run for City Hall, and you'd been shot less than three weeks ago, and been operated on and stitched up by fucking Jeepers Creepers with rusty medical tools," and he was fairly certain he still had a fever, but that was beside the point. It was his own damn fault he was out here.
O'Brien took note of the arching of Leah's brow, and he tilted his head to the side with an 'oh, c'mon, are you kidding' sort of look, "I'm not going to shoot you. I promise." He supposed he didn't blame her for not trusting him... but still.
And as soon as she told him to stop grinning, the happier expression on his face fell, but he didn't say a word. He let his eyes follow the jerk of her head, and he glanced up toward one of the fire escapes, and then back to her. Was she fucking kidding? No... No, she wasn't kidding, was she? He was definitely not in any sort of shape to be scaling tall buildings. "Hell," he grumbled, adjusting his backpack and turning to hurry over and reach up for the ladder to pull down. He only paused with what he was doing to shoot another Walker, that got too close, in the head.
Quickly and carefully climbing his way up onto the fire escape, he turned back to look to see where Leah was and what she was doing. He'd promised to cover her, after all.