Giles recognized the young man, or at least he thought he did, from the flier he'd seen posted everywhere around Los Angeles, including the telephone poles and trees outside of the building. Finishing his punch in a quick swallow, Giles dropped the cup in the trash and made his way across the room to the young man. "Excuse me, would you be Richard Eckerson, by chance? I'm Rupert Giles, we spoke on the phone yesterday?" he said, offering his hand.