"You were also in the twentieth century," she replied evenly, with a slightly arched brow. "That isn't the case anymore. Welcome to two thousand and seven, about to be two thousand and eight."
He'd taken the keys, now all she had to do was get him out of the building, to his car, and show him where the penthouse was and she could be on her way. Or, at least, she thought. Then he mentioned wanting some coffee and Charlie knew her job wasn't quite over yet.
Trying not to lose her cool - and really not upset with him so much as the fact that she'd been given this assignment and had yet to figure out why - the blonde tipped her head in acknowledgement. "Yeah, Wolfram & Hart is a lawfim," she answered, hands going inside the pockets of her leather jacket as she met his gaze. "But it's definitely not a typical bunch. I hate lawyers and I don't mind doing the occassional odd job for them, so..." She shrugged, as if that alone said enough.
"There's a coffee shop on the corner that's open twenty-four hours if you want to get a cup," Charlie added after a second. "Though you're going to have to do something with your gun." There was a slight smile at that. She could just imagine the waitress that worked the graveyard shift's expression if she saw it. It would make for an interesting outing, to say the least.