[ His shift finishes, but Gil doesn't emerge from the back immediately, busy doing a quick but thorough clean-up of the counters. Anything that needs to be packaged away is done, he gets dishes out of the dishwasher, laying them out neatly in the dish rack beside it so they can dry off and cool down. Then he washes his hands, removes his apron, hair net, and goes further into the back to collect his things.

He looks over his shoulder cautiously, ensuring the owners aren't hovering around so he can double-check the guns in his coat pockets. Given the past week, let alone month, Gil has felt much more comfortable with the familiar weight of his guns in his coat.

Eventually, he steps out from kitchen area, fingers reaching for the little hair tie to let his hair down. ]

Sorry, I didn't want to leave a whole mess for everyone else to clean. [ He gestures to the display. ] Did you decide on what you wanted to take home?