coffee: sam & neil
Neil had very little trouble getting away for a noon hour break. With Micah dead and Louis as safe as he was going to be in Gotham, his schedule was back to normal and work resumed as it had before his life was plunged into chaos. That wasn't to say that his absence hadn't, ah, been an inconvenience; it had. And so there were apologies to be made, relationships to mend, clients who needed some reassurances. He hadn't lied all those months ago, to Cris and to Louis-- he was not a criminal.
In black and white terms, that was true.
But semantics didn't matter. His business associates had never put his friends and family in danger, they'd only helped. Psychopaths and demons from comic books hurt them. Nightmare doors hurt them. Drugs, exes, current relationships, those were the things he had to worry about. He was trying to worry less, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy in his life; it was a work in progress. Work helped. And maybe meeting Sam wasn't the best idea all things considered, but he didn't care. He was tired of trying to tiptoe and watch his step. He wasn't going to go interfering, he wasn't going to dump his girlfriend and try to steal Sam away from her new boyfriend. Nothing he said or did seemed to make a difference anyway, so why bother?
From his office he took a cab to the coffee shop, arriving near exactly at noon in a suit and tie. Even though he hadn't seen Sam in a while, and it hadn't been under the best circumstances when he had, he recognized her without any trouble. She looked good, he thought. Not visibly older or younger. "Hey," he said, sliding into the seat across from his. He looked a little tired, but not bad overall.