Peter didn’t even look at the waitress when he stepped out of the café, but he had a good idea that she probably didn’t like that he ignored it and the thought she processed made him almost smile. Parkman’s mind reading ability was good for a few things. He shoved his bare hands into his coat pockets once outside, the cold air hitting his lips to suck the color right out of them as those brown eyes followed where Adam’s head was tilting. He obliged, keeping with Adam’s pace as he made sure to pay attention when turns needed to be made.

“No,” he answered, knowing that it was the honest truth behind it. The place he was staying was only temporary seeing how his home in this time wasn’t the same as it was back in Las Vegas. Peter had made places to stay in the future seeing how his work as a “terrorist” took him to all sorts of areas. “Why do you ask?”