Only years of being subjected to that sort of stunt from the other man kept Tobias' face straight through Marco's bull. He even managed a nod here, a look of warning for 'slipping information' there, to add weight to the whole thing. An actor, he was not, but it seemed to at least fool the cop. He breathed a heavy sigh once they were waved out, playing it off as disgruntled annoyance, as they headed over to the desk. Once they were far enough away, he nodded, breaking a genuine smile.
"Frankly? If he bought that, I would question his literacy. Shit, man,"
He leaned against the desk, waiting patiently while Marco gave a similar song-and-dance to the desk jockey to get his arsenal back. Occasionally, he sent and received a text, at the very least keeping up the image of the the busy movie producer/agent/whatever the hell Marco had claimed he was.
When he wasn't texting and taking notes about the situation they seemed to have found themselves in, he was taking a mental inventory of Marco's condition, scars, trying to see just how much damage he'd taken in this new reality he had been in, what was fresh enough to be off the list for discussion.
There was also the occasional glance to the clock, but that was so habitual now, it was barely more than a natural scan.