Oh my god, he just cleaned that table, don't step on it. Lambert stays where he is, but he won't drop his stance despite the way he incredulously raises his brows. The smart thing to do would be to stay quiet and let this play out, but that's not really his style, and the mocking laughter grates for all it isn't directed at him.

In the time he's known him, John's never actually mentioned a master. He's also never actually seen him look freaked out like that, even if it was just for a split second.

While the changeling slips into a shadow again, and the thing's come over to his side of the room, Lambert is going to do what seems like the most sensible thing at the time. Which is to snort and pipe up with a helpful:

"Or you can fuck right off." He sizes up the distance between him and the table, lips drawn into a taut line.