Missions that gave the agents a license to kill always made T. uncomfortable. It wasn't that he didn't believe the brief that they were practically scum, but the idea that he got to decide whether someone got to live or die...it just wasn't how he was raised. Lia had, apparently, gotten a lot more comfortable with the idea. That the mission had set him on edge was the reason he had declined the caffeine and was drinking an overpriced iced tea from a plastic cup. (Plastic, being the bane of the oceans, was another issue T. struggled with, but he'd reserve his thoughts on that for later.) That, and the UH Pantsless Hula Incident of '01. Hula was nearly always pantsless, but it usually didn't involve a tense group project, and an overnight stint in the library washed down with six Red Bulls. At any rate, T. didn't drink coffee much anyway. His winning personality and zest for life got him through most days.
He just grunted at Lia when she told him his codename could not be Hawaiian Jesus. His mind was still churning a bit. "Does that mean I can't introduce them as our Disney friends Elsa and Jasmine?" he answered, finally looking up from staring at the ice in his cup. Jasmine was clearly just a translation of Yasmine's name, but he could also see her standing up to an oppressive regime. Tossing the racial inaccuracies aside for ease of translation. Besides, Jasmine was pretty (for a cartoon character) and Yaz was...and then, you know, the other guy had ice powers.
Lia fell quiet as she contemplated her charm bracelet, which T. would normally keep her talking to keep her from falling into too pensive of a state that almost always ended up with thoughts of Theresa. Ah, the other T. She was something else. He didn't linger too long on it either, because it also made him sad (obviously not to the degree it affected Lia, but still). He was fine with the silence for now, because it kept him from talking about his concerns towards the mission. Rescue was surely a good thing, and mermaids...he'd never worked with those. But he was rooting for them. Maybe if they spoke English, he could see if they'd push the Agency towards a more conscious approach regarding marine life. Mermaid life. T. half-grunted as he put his cup down and mentally made a note to get another tumbler to keep in his car for situations like this. Lia broke into his thoughts when she noticed the flood of people arrive, so he stood up. It was her job to be loud, and his to stand like a bearded version of a Las Vegas neon sign. After all, he could be seen over most heads. Especially in Japan. He raised a hand to wave at whoever Lia was talking to. He had this half-baked joke about eagle eyes forming when she announced they had caffeine and T. stepped out of the way. You just didn't stand between and agent and their coffee, it seemed. And T. tended to Be In The Way. He couldn't help it. He got it from his Momma. Also why the hell was everything in Japan so small?