[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=orangered]Caesar[/color] & [color=b8860b]Keystone[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[hr][b] [color=dimgray]Location:[/color][/b] Queensguard R&D Complex
[b][color=orangered]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A 
[b][color=b8860b]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][hr][/center]

	Caesar could always sleep on planes. There were those who were unable to do so, and he did truly sympathize with them, but there was something similar to an understanding that he had with aerial transportation machines. The thought process was, if he was suspended tens of thousands of feet in the air inside of a pressurized metal tube traveling at a few hundred miles per hour, there was nothing that he could realistically do in the event that something unfortunate were to occur. Ergo, he might as well catch a nap. If he absolutely had to get some rest afterwards, he could always take the edge off his wakefulness by perusing his collection of fine (and not so fine) tequilas. To that end, Caesar was raptly alert, and anxious to get to work. 

	With the request for meeting with Ms. Queensguard already taken care of, there really wasn't much that could be done on a straightforward, purely business level. Caesar recalled that his niece was asking onto Alicia's laptop earlier, and decided that a better use of his time would be to locate said machine and deliver it to her, completely unaware that she had already rallied the people of her new tech team for just this purpose. 

	Meanwhile, Thalia herself was not in the mood to deal with the delivery guy's shit. She looked the man square in the eyes and held it for a long moment. [b]"I'm new here. You're going to have to bear with me. You delivery guys, you don't like to get tipped in Justice, right? 'Cause that's exactly how you're acting. Like you don't want to get tipped. God forbid there be -"[/b] she gave an expression of mock horror and slapped her hands to the sides of her face, [b]"- [i]security[/i] protocol with [i]security[/i] company, right?"[/b] Thalia dug through the multiple bags of food and located the stack of paper napkins provided, continuing, [b]"Here, take these and wipe the [i]bitch[/i] off your face. And you know where you can stick the extra chopsticks."[/b] The irked young lady counted out the appropriate amount of money for the food provided, rounded to the next dollar up, and gave no more than a 15% gratuity. [b]"That'll change based on how your company acts moving forward. Get me?"[/b]

	Keystone spent the next bit of time marveling over the bulletproof playpen for little Liam. He'd only been a father for about a half hour, but this seemed to make total sense to him. Plus, in the event of a firefight, he could grab his son with one hand and use the pen to provide ballistic cover. Total sense to him. He took another moment to look down at his baby boy with quiet awe, still coming to grips with the fact that he was responsible for another tiny version of himself mixed with Alicia Gonzalez. Then the thought hit him; this child is going to grow up to kill somebody. Probably more than one. A lot more. 

	But Maria was right. There was business to attend to, most notably right then the awkward process by which his new boss got registered into all of the little odds and ends of the system. It wasn't difficult, just a little tedious at first. Considering the fact that she had her own ideas at the work that needed to be done, perhaps it would be best to just take the individual issues as they came. This time around. And if it caused an error, well, they could back up and deal.