The copper gets his drink, sits and relaxes, setting his cap on the bar next to him, running his hand through his hair.

His grey eyes dart right back to the stranger, catching that nod, and he gets a one in return, an aknowledgement more than anything. He takes a sip of his whisky, his ears perking.

He shifts slightly, casting his eyes over a group with slightly raised voices... yammering in Scottish Gaelic. Leon frowns, listening, taking another sip.