"I'm going to beat around the punch, sir, and only to save us both some time," Jim was thoughtful on his wording and, while sure in his tone, his words were spoken with a lightness to them. "You threw a man twice your size across the station, dazed him to the extent of being speechless and retreating like a dog with its tail between its legs. No dear boy would be able to do something like that and, well, it's about damn time things got exciting around here."
His reputation in Preya had been as dark as his reputation back in England, and this entire situation was bringing him to a sense of excitement, when the usual man might have been nervous. Nonetheless, Jim continued to the restaurant, and he was greeted by name and then taken back to his usual booth. It was located in the corner, away from the noise of the crowded restaurant. Seclusion, privacy, and silence... all things that were needed for a continuing to their conversation.
"It isn't a matter of me having to," Jim said as he sat down at his seat, sliding the menu towards Michael. He knew what he wanted to order. He had been here enough times. "It's me wanting to."
He extended his hand to Michael. "My name is James Moriarty."