"Hope they have towels then..." Casey murmured, checking himself similarly. Shaking out his mask, his gloves, before taking her hand. "Casey Jones, New York City, 2015." There hints of challenge and playfulness in the hand-shake, which matches well with what Clara'd seen so far. "Only recently invited to save this great Library..."

A sigh, and he murmured to himself more than to her. "And man I really need to think of a way to make that sound bad-ass..."