"I think she'll be okay. Specially when you may be looking to help those women." Max wasn't asking a question; it seemed a statement. He set down the bag with the sandwiches, motioning for him to have at it.
"Course, the question becomes why are you helping now?" He took a seat at the desk to dig around in a drawer for some glasses and the bourbon. "Drink?" He didn't know the complete truth about the man, but he knew that things were a little complicated when it came to Johnny Outlaw. Or vigilantes, in general.
"I have been in my own clothes for some time. Actually they're probably nicer than the threads I wore back home." He knew that everything here was damn better than what he'd back in Electric City. "What do you want the files for?"