An eyebrow quirked up at being called 'milady' of all things. But Lexa was silently relieved when he didn't call her bluff at least, and took a hint. It wasn't that she doubted her ability to bodily throw someone into a bookshelf – but her bosses, while good, kind people, only gave her so much leeway when she ran the shop. She could get away with plenty, but assaulting a customer hadn't quite made the list yet. He walked away after another minute of babbling, and Lexa let out a slow breath. She turned to walk back to the office and found her coffee finished.

Pouring herself a mug, Lexa walked back into the store and took the seat behind the counter. The fanboys were quiet, enjoying their movie. The flirty one had left through the door, standing outside the shop. Lexa heard a flash of siren through the open door before it gently shut. Her lips tightened for a moment. It was a city. Sirens could be heard every day without Trick needing to intervene. Placing her mug of coffee on the counter, she picked up her phone and pulled up the local news sites to see if anything was being reported. 

The man from before chose that moment to return to her. Lexa did the slightest of jumps, so engulfed in her search that she didn't even notice him. She blinked up at him in surprise before smothering it with her usual gruffness. She absolutely was not embarrassed. Replaying his words in her mind, she glanced down to the unlit cigarette between his fingers. Looked back up at him. Stared at him in a way that said she was unimpressed. 

After a moment, Lexa reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, finely engraved lighter. 

[color=crimson]"Hope it saves your life. Take it outside and don't burn the place down."[/color] 

She turned back to her phone, her mouth skewing to the side slightly. It was probably nothing. She didn't need to be there. 

(But what if she did? Ever since the public found out about her, it seemed like an invitation for more and more people with bad intentions and extraordinary abilities had been crawling out of the woodwork. And plus the new breed of sickos who only seemed to have numbers for names, and the men who'd gotten away last night… Memories of people screaming, dying, replayed in her head.)

Lexa glanced from her phone back out towards the door. She'd left her gear at home. She didn't have time to dye her hair. It was broad daylight. It was probably nothing.