His eyebrows raise in anticipation at that pause; he knows there must be something unexpected and/or impressive about to follow, he expects no less by this point. And she delivers. He grins, clearly pleased, because how could he not approve of someone who makes their way in the world by misbehaving? He tried that once, with far less class and success.

"I do know the Vault," he says, and the smile doesn't fade, nor does anything about his attitude or his gaze on her shift. He's not scandalized, not titillated, not passing any judgment at all. He works for Hellsing, she works at the Vault, each of them in their own way meeting some need in their community.

"A good friend of mine also works there," he goes on. There's a slight tug at the corners of his mouth, a brief flutter of his gaze. This friend is someone he's clearly fond of, someone he's attracted to, but it's obvious it doesn't run as deep or feel as desperate and hopeless as that friend and colleague from before. "Do you know Hasi? I met her not long after I arrived in the city."