Ritchie knows libraries. He's got a PhD, thank you very much. It's been nearly a decade of libraries, libraries and more goddamn fucking libraries.

In his heart of hearts, he knows this guy doesn't belong anywhere near a library.

"Oh. You're looking for a quiet afternoon at the library."

He raises his hands in the air and tucks them to his chest. If this guy thinks he has any kind of throw around these stomping grounds, he's sorely mistaken.

"Why don't you tell me what you're reading, pal?"