"Well, she's not here just now," M responded rather calmly as he thought through something to do. He'd sit up with a sudden movement, hopefully throwing her off, where he can nab the gun and somehow motion for the others to defuse the male. That's somewhat possible. Either that or he'd just risk getting shot, which was honestly fine. He's gotten shot fatally more times than bones in his body.
But of course, no one needed to know that.
Jericho's foot started to tap incessantly on the ground, the only outward sign of his mild annoyance and worry. This was exactly the kind of situation that they trained to avoid, but here they were…right in the middle of one. If he didn't move soon, people were going to get hurt.
It turns out Jericho didn't have to move at all. M took his chance as the woman glanced behind her to sneer at her comrade, grabbing the gun and skillfully snatching it from her and pointing it at her in return, his face a faint red. However, his voice came out firm and commanding when he spoke: "I'm going to have to ask you to sit down in the booth, ma'am." He walked from his seat, pressing the head of the gun to her head, his eyes on the man, who had shakily jerked the gun up to point at him. M knew for a fact that man was not going to shoot him.
"Jericho, apprehend this man and give the wallets back. I am Metaphorical Whembrooke, member of the IPS and you're under arrest for siege of private property and bringing a gun onto one. To avoid injury, put your head down on the table, and do not struggle against Jericho's hold."
(belp)
Jericho did as he was told, putting the other man into a vicious headlock almost too easily. He delegated giving out the wallets to another agent as he dragged the man over to his accomplice. "This was really a poor choice on your part." He told the man in his usual cheery tone. "Poor choice, indeed. You didn't even make my night interesting." The man sputtered helplessly from Jericho's hold, but the Agent squeezed a little tighter, cutting off his tirade.
M glared briefly at Jericho, huffing softly. "I want him alive, Jericho." The man gripped at the hold's arms with soft splutters as his air was cut off, his face quickly turning red. The woman grumbled into her hands, which were curled up at her face. M prodded her once with the gun he stole, taking out his own small pistol and pressing it to her head, plopping the larger one on the table with a sigh.
"Alright, call reinforcements to collect these two. I'd actually like a nice night but unfortunately it has been… comprimsed. Invite everyone who fled for interrogation," He muttered begrudgingly.
(:3)
Jericho released his hold on the man the tiniest bit. He gasped and stopped fighting, probably realizing it was no use at this point. "All of us were having a nice night, boss." He quipped, forcing his criminal into a sitting position so he could place cuffs on him. "Honestly." He waved a hand at another agent, sending her off to collect anyone that ran. Jericho sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Thankfully that went smoothly."
"Yeah, I was one of them," M snapped at Jericho's hard ass, his eyes tightened into icy slits. His hands tightened into balls. "You don't have to stay here, but unless you want your entire career to stay nice, you'll stay, do you hear me?" M was clearly in one of his moods. He didn't really enjoy Jericho's comments. The others who came part of M's backup just nodded in understanding, and the detective flopped down into his seat, dropping his gun. He went for his phone, only to remember it was with his date. He stood with a sigh, walking out of the restaurant and looking left and right.
(.p.)
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