Reno eyed the setup curiously, immediately noting the lack of a chair. Right. Thanks boss. He stood about as "at attention" as he ever did, which meant slouched, hands in pockets, giving Rufus a thoroughly incredulous look as an alternative to rolling his eyes.
"Do those papers actually mean something, or are they just there to make you feel better?" Somehow, it was just a little hard to take the scene in front of him seriously. Rufus, sitting at a table in a restaurant, covered with assorted desk stuff that had either been materialized out of nowhere or brought for the specific purpose of scattering onto a table (the latter being a rather disturbing thought, in Reno's opinion), acting like this was home and nothing had changed and every meeting they'd had in this place up until now hadn't involved both of them sitting at a table, probably with drinks in front of them. I don't think your office had a kitchen in the back, sir.
He paused a moment, trying to mentally kick himself into something approximating the business-like mode Rufus apparently wanted out of him.
"Right, status report." Trying, and failing. "...I'm good, how 'bout you?"
He sighed, the generally incredulous look fading from his expression, and made one more attempt at saying something useful.
"Nothing of interest other than stuff you already know."