He heard the shifting of cloth as the cop started to move. If he was on a high he would have heard the pull of his muscle, the thud of his heartbeat. It had been a long time since he'd gotten that bad. (you miss it, don't you?). Still, it's with only a mild annoyance that he sees that long arm reaching for the sludge coffee. In one cut, Kenshin could have severed the artery in the juncture of his elbow. In another he could pressed through the muscle and nerve. All before the cop had pulled the pot back to himself.

"Susanoo-san was in the back counting stock," he said, carefully pouring water into the woman's teacup, precisely, accurately, focusing on that single act until he could think of something else. "She's probably smoking at the back door. Or maybe went to check on her mother." That was probably more likely. The old woman lived just down the block and Susanoo-san seemed devoted to her in that annoyed push and pull way of families. (He never did find that bucket...)

The cop's looming presence went to loom somewhere else and Kenshin was glad of it, able to relax as he took the tea carefully and went to deliver it. She'd moved closer to the cop (of course she had) but Kenshin was able to keep a smile on his face...

Until Salamander tattoo man passed by the window. Damn and double damn. Of all the days why did Salamander have to pick the day when the yellow eyed cop was here. The cop would be curious, try to interfere, and Kenshin couldn't do anything without arousing suspicion from either end. Tch.

He realized he was still holding the teacup and went to deliver it, setting it down with a faint smile as Salamander came into the diner and sat at his favorite booth right near the door. The man was after an easy escape, he was.