Jericho hissed back and shot one hell of a murderous stare between hair strands--then his eyes started to water so he shifted to turn his head away. Sensible to know, now that things had ebbed off, he couldn't lunge at Jim. Much as he STILL wanted to claw the man's eyes out. The wards, he knew, wouldn't let him.
He also refused to fucking crawl. So he made his ungainly way across the table floor in a crouched stumble until he made it into the kitchen.
He was caught by co-workers back there with a collective gasp and ensemble of commotion that last several minutes. Then quiet. While the figured out what to do about this. Stowed Jericho away, protectively, into Rook's currently unoccupied office.
Another waitress came out with a to-go bag and dropped it in front of him unceremoniously. Glaring fiercely. "Get out. Rook will let you know if you're banned."
Jim had finished his tea by then. If he could still purr, he'd be doing it right now. Mentally patting himself on the back. When the waitress appeared with the food, he stood after setting a large sum of cash down and took the bag.
"Of course~." Not that he had any particular interest in coming back here if it came down to it. He excused himself, pleasantly chipper in mood now. He would let Sherlock know he had done the deed when he sent a text with a shot emoji.














