He lets out a huff of amusement at that, drops his eyes and slides his hands into his pockets as he shrugs.

"It's not exactly the best place to walk a dog," he says, and looks up again hesitantly. "Probably not the best place for me to walk either, but -- here I am."

And here Eames is, for whatever reason. It's a peculiar sort of coincidence, but then again London does always end up feeling smaller than you'd expect. However many people there are in it you always seem to end up running into someone you know.