He runs his tongue along the outside of his teeth, under his cheek, and gives a short nod.

It's a little bit of a relief, her taking charge. Without Butch around, he always feels a little aimless, sort of wanders from place to place until there's a job, a plan, and it's probably better to stick together, even if he don't know her.

She's got a gun, and it seems she can keep a cool head, and both of those things are useful enough he doesn't particularly care if he knows who she is from Adam. He tips his chin in the general direction of that sleek bar, where people are milling, talking quiet and calm, sipping strange-colored drinks. Slants his eyes toward her, and waits for her to make her move.