Walter stared at his new companion as he sipped his coffee, sizing him up. Hmm, he thought, the clothes are off the bargain rack from the thrift may be working for Gus or another dealer.

However, he didn't talk or act like a junkie, or a bum. The oddest thing had to be the stranger's Jerry-curl hair. There was just no way anyone could work for the DEA with hair like that.

"Alright," Walter started, "you've got my attention. But, before you say anything else, at least tell me your name."

"Who I am isn't really important right now," he said leaning back and relaxing a little. "Besides, even if I did tell you my name, you wouldn't need to use it. It just seems a little unnecessary ." He paused to pull a sip from his steaming mug.

"After all, it's just me and you having a quiet chit chat over breakfast." He turned his eyes back towards Walt again and gave him a hard stare, "Right?"

" I don't know what kind of game you're playing," Walter growled feeling his anger rise, " but I don't like it."

"You can call me Caine if it will calm your ass down enough to listen."

"You mean like biblical Cain? The Cain that killed Abel?" he asked in surprise.

"No, like the Caine from that TV show Kung Fu." He paused to let Walt speak, but was met only with a blank look. "Like Caine from the show, I wander the earth and get into adventures from time to time," he continued.

"So you're a transient?"

"No, dammit! Look, right now I'm a messenger," he said speaking a little louder, and a little slower. "I'm here to help you get your head strait before some other motherfucker comes along and rips it off your neck."

"Well," Walt replied smugly, "what makes you the expert on me?"

"I know you're trying to put your family back together, and get back into a regular life. I also know that you just lost your job, and got a rather substantial offer on another one." Caine said without hesitation.

"Granted," Walt said sedately as the waitress walked up with their food. "How is knowing that going to help me?"