"Fair enough," Amelia casually replied, leaning to the side to put her bag down on the ground. Just then, she caught a quick glimpse of Owl's shotgun. She eyed the weapon for a brief moment before sitting back up again, displaying one hell of a poker face. Maybe she was getting good at hiding her emotions, or maybe she was so desensitized to guns at this point that the sight of one didn't phase her the least bit. She cast a glance at Andrew who was making his way back to the table.

"Where's my drink?" she joked with him as he sat down, honestly not in the mood for alcohol at the moment. For some reason, she had the feeling that she wasn't wanted at their table, despite the fact that she'd been invited to sit down. Maybe it was Andrew's tense body language that put her off, but if she indeed was in the way of the two men conducting business, then they wouldn't have been so welcoming to begin with.