Lindsey got the feeling before the kid's mouth even opened that he was being judged. That wasn't all that abnormal, when you were a lawyer. A lot rode on cases. Often, people were putting their lives in your hands. It was why so many firms insisted on that clean-cut appearance and three-piece suits. It was easier to trust someone who looked successful.
He didn't say anything to the observation the boy made, either. Lindsey was not about to volunteer anything about why that was. But it was simple: Lindsey didn't think that his ability with the law defined who he was, at all. Not anymore.
There was something off about the handshake, and Lindsey'd have to place it later. The more he was around this kid, the more he felt like...
... what was it? It wasn't fear. Lindsey was a hard guy to rattle. After his stint getting his heart cut out over and over, and after the normal, day-to-day operations at Wolfram and Hart, which included killing disloyal employees and zombies in the basement, you really had to have something over on Lindsey to get him scared.
It was that this felt familiar.
Once Lindsey realized that, he understood perfectly what this kid was. At least in part. He wasn't a good guy. He wasn't a guy that'd walk into Angel Investigations for help. No. Lindsey would need to know more to judge what he was dealing with, per se, but he recognized the feeling he had. He'd felt it a lot in his time. The best way to verbalize it was, perhaps, a healthy respect for something that could fuck you up, be it a vampire, or a rattlesnake, or Holland Manners.
His heart rate didn't change, and no hair stood up on his neck.
Lindsey arched a brow.
"Well, with all due respect to you, Mister...?" He waited a beat before continuing. "... I never take a case without full confidence in my abilities." He licked at his lower lip, then pulled his chair out and sat down, pushing hair out of his face as he did. His sleeves were rolled up just slightly, showing a silver bracelet with a fleur-di-lis on it and also a faint line around his right wrist, an all but faded scar.
He smiled faintly again and looked the kid in his eyes. "So who're you here for? Who's this other party?"