Fucking hell. 57 years old, and he was still getting mixed up with Tom. Laughing a little, he nodded at her question. "Yeah. Yeah, it's Jake," he said, and opened the gate, closing it carefully behind him; he did not want huge dogs with fire-eyes roaming the streets.
Spot watched Jake as he walked over to stand beside Kat, but didn't actually get up or go anywhere, so the training must have been working. "Where's the most secure place to talk?" he asked quietly once he was close enough.