Now that's a familiar sound he didn't anticipate hearing so soon. The unmistakable sound of a daystick impacting a glove. He knew it was all too good to be true. He could feel all the possibilities and plans flying away, like so much atom dust. Set loose on his own, away from the reaches of the Justice Department for the first time in his life, and the universe had found it fit to send him a grud-damned minder.

He had his first taste of freedom - literally - and it was sweet. The scowl comes naturally to his face, but he does what he's asked, hands by his sides and firmly off his daystick, and he turns around slowly to come face to face with the other judge. He looks her over with a critical eye, assessing her behind his visor.

"I haven't been a rookie in a year," he corrects, his voice a rumble of offence in his chest. "The helmet not obvious enough for you?"