Despite waking up at six, Thomas rushed out of his home half past eight in a hurry to beat traffic. Well, it more like he woke up at six but continued to sleep till eight, Thomas was so pissed at himself. He was like this in school and nothing seems to have change. Why would he need to wake up at six? Thomas had a daily routine. Perfection takes time, there's the shower then trimming his beard, making his organic breakfast, and going through Twitter. It was all important to get him ready for the day. Or that's how he wished things would be like, maybe then he wouldn't spend more of his time at work on Twitter then actually working. Not like that mattered, turned out Thomas had some kind of gift or luck, did Thomas question it? Far from that. Today he wanted time to be on his side for once. He was working in a new department and first impressions were important.

In thirty minutes Thomas pulled himself together fairly well. He got a quick shower, eat a pop tart, and dressed in his purple suit. He couldn't gotten ahead of traffic if it weren't for his new neighbor Ms. Eliza Schuyler.

She was a small, pretty little thing, he often saw her wear the colour blue; in any shade it could possibly come it. Ms. Schuyler had a warm smile that made it impossible for anyone to reject her. He stopped dead in his tracks when she unexpectedly walked out to, then again she was a teacher so their work schedules were matched in rhythm. Ms. Schuyler greeted him and giggled about his clothes, Thomas smiled and chuckled nervously back. Normally, when people pointed out his taste in clothing he would bury them five feet under ground. But again! This was the most purest person Thomas had ever meet, making her cry or offend her would in anyway revolted him. Then there was the tattoo on her right forearm. A weird hourglass, but Thomas didn't care about the tattoo he cared about the scarred flesh, it wasn't pretty and looked like she went through hell. Thomas almost asked about it but he held his tongue. He didn't want others to ask about his tattoo, so he didn't ask them. Besides, it must've of happened a while ago. The scar was faded and she let it be shown by the world. Eliza was a beautiful wonder.

After a short conversation, Thomas said his goodbyes and continued running. Keeping a chant of "shit,shit,shit,shit,shit,shit" in his head. He thanked God for his long legs. By the time he got to his car it was five to nine. Putting the keys in his engine, Thomas gave up on being on time, he could call it fashionably late.

"Damnit!" Thomas cursed, slapping his forehead.

Of course he promised to pick up coffee for James. Thomas just muttered curses and drove down to Starbucks. He tuned out the sound of honking and angry yelling as his magenta car smoothly drove lane from lane. He nervously tapped the steering wheel, as much as he was confident Thomas was slightly nervous, it was a terrible ache in his chest making it hard to breath. It was just another department, it was just another job, filled with co-workers and cases, like any other. He was the best at what he did, he was smooth and persuasive. Nothing to worry about. Then why did he feel like he was going to faint? He groaned and focused on stealing a parking spot from a soccer mom.

Thomas stepped out of his car, leaving behind his work but pulled out his cane. He didn't need, it was just plain fun and it was strangely a confidence booster. He locked his car with two clicks of the lock button, you could never be too careful in New York, especially with a nice car like this. Thomas was going to head in but a honk caught his attention.

"Asshole!"

Thomas turned around and saw a man in the soccer mom car. He cocked an eyebrow and moved along, ignoring the burning glare at the back of his head. It was too early for this bullshit, he needed a needed a french mocha in his body stat. Stepping inside, Thomas held back a groan when he saw the line of people, he focused on finding James and would burn that bridge later. It wasn't hard to spot a black male in the ocean of white bitches. Thomas stopped his friend in the back nursing a cup of what was probably tea. He smiled and weaved his way through the crowd, he smoothly sat down in the chair across Madison and give the grumpy man an award winning smile.

"Hey Jamie-"

"You're late," James cut in with his usual hoarse voice. He took a sip of his tea, clearly telling that he didn't care for whatever made up excuse Thomas had in store.

Thomas blew a raspberry. "You need to get laid," he said under his breath and stood back up.

Leaving his cane behind, Thomas went to buy anything that had caffeine in it. He would need it, a new department meant getting to know the office douche all other again. The last department the douche was too much for anyone to deal with, even the boss slapped his forehead when they misspoke, Thomas just hoped they wouldn't one up him. That was one way for him to lose his cool. He placed his order in, a caffe mocha, and spelled out his name letter by letter; ignoring the glare the barista gave him. Thomas waited with the other customers until his name was called.

He happily took it and paid. On his way back he took a long sip, ignoring the burn on his tongue, and smiled fondly. It was a simple-ish drink but it Thomas' heart melt. Despite knowing it would get him in a bad mood, he thought back to high school. Martha was an all "wow factor" girl, if someone wanted cupcakes then she brought red velvet cupcakes with cheese cream filling. She went all out if someone asked for something, not because it was from the bottom of her heart it was because she wanted to be the best. So when Thomas let her buy him coffee she returned with two Caffe Mochas'. He made a big huff but drink it anyways, and for some reason she kept buying it for him. He was always annoyed with it but one day he bought one for himself. Ignoring Martha's large grin as he drink it.

Thomas sighed knowing that he just ruined his confidence. Mustering all the courage he had left, Thomas focused on getting to work. But when he returned to James he noticed his cane was missing.

"What happened to my cane?" Thomas asked. He looked around the table and under it then looked across the floor to see if anyone had possibly kicked it.

"I don't even know why you have one, it just makes you look like a douchebag when people find out."

"People do not think that," Thomas retorted. He stood up and placed his drink down, his fingers drummed. "What did you do with it?"

"I didn't do anything," James said in an odd tone. "Though a gentleman with a green overcoat might have something to do with it. He was short, bags under his eyes, reeked of what I can only guess is a frat party... oh! He said something about you taking his parking spot?"

Thomas' jaw dropped. "Are you fucking with me? Soccer mom came back at me?"

"It's called karma, you should try it more often it looks good on you," James grinned.

"Shuttup," Thomas hissed, grabbing his Caffe Mocha and turning on his heels. "We're going."

James grinned widely, following him. It took every bone in his body not to laugh, he knew the "Soccer mom" and if this is how Thomas was going to be after a small encounter then he should buy some popcorn 'cause there was going to be a rumble. Maybe that's what the department needed, someone to match Hamilton's wise ass. James was just worried what the noise and fighting was going to do with Burr.