Was Warren a good partner? Yes. Was Warren a bad ass? Sure, yeah, in his own way. Was he a self-sabotaging, glutton-for-punishment bucket of original recipe crazy? Yep. And Luke had the coffee on his jaw to prove it. He'd gone for his gun, jostled his cup and sloshed half of it on his own face. He leaned over between Warren's knobby knees and took a napkin from the glove compartment while he glared at the blond man.
"New plan... Arrest everyone, then hit Madison Avenue..."
Luke squinted his eyes while he steeled his mind, then opened his brown gaze back upon the half-Brit. "Lemme get this straight. You want to bum-rush this whole operation because the clock is ticking on getting your ex-girlfriend a birthday present?" His eyebrows were set high with expectation, hoping Warren told him he was mistaken. Luke hurriedly holdered his coffee and grabbed Angel's left arm. "Stay your ass in this car." He cocked his head to the side, commanding at least another minute or two of explanation.
Luke cleared his throat, then positioned his hand on the updated pistol under his jacket's zipper (in case Warren rabbited). "I'm not going shopping with you. You shouldn't be going shopping." Bishop shook his head. "You think 'it's the job'? The one she doesn't want you to be working in the first place? Look, man, I don't know if you sabotaged your relationship on purpose, but this," his index finger swished back and forth between the two men, "ain't romance. If you flake, one of us could get killed. More importantly, I could get killed. So get your head outta your ass," or rather, out of Eva's ass, "and unruffle those feathers. We go in when it's time." He'd put his size 16 foot down.