He reaches down to pat the kid's wrists, an unspoken promise that it's ok, he's got this, he's got them, before pulling away from the curb carefully. It's not that long of a drive and, yeah, he takes his time now that he's got a literal child on the back behind him.

Last thing he needs is for them to get hurt or pulled over or some shit.

A few turns down other alley's before he pulls into an open garage door, clicking it behind. The set up's simple, sofa, camera, laptop, holoscreen, minifridge. Good thing he's got more than beer in there. He shuts off the bike and pats the kid's hands again. "We're good, hop off."