undergrounds | A Midnight Ride [Closed]

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A Midnight Ride [Closed]

Daryl stood outside the pub, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back heavily against the brick just to the right of the door. The place was pretty busy and would be for at least two more hours. He was familiar with The Duchess because it was on his way home every night and he often stopped in for a beer. He'd suggested it thinking a familiar place would calm his nerves. Which he needed even more after Natasha had referred to the whole thing as a 'date'.

Maybe he should just cancel the whole thing. Get her that drink he'd offered when she got there and then call it off. He'd had a long day it could be excused if he played that up. Of course he was so keyed up over his nerves that probably wouldn't work.

Maybe he should just leave before she even got there. Except that would be rude and he didn't actually want to be rude to her. He just wasn't sure he could do this anymore. It'd taken a lot to even send her that text.

"Fuck I need a drink," he muttered to himself, rubbing his face with both hands before crossing them again.

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"Did I leave you alone for too long?" Natasha arrives just in time to catch him muttering. She might have teased him a little too far if he's already getting himself wound in knots.

She doesn't seem too worried about it—dressed for their ride in a motorcycle jacket and heavy boots, and she seems comfortable in them. Really, she's been looking forward to that as much as seeing Daryl again. She hasn't had a chance to ride since before her moved, and she hadn't lied when she said that she enjoyed it.

"Lucky you; you won't have to wait anymore."

Daryl jerked forward, standing straight up and his hands automatically falling to his sides so he had his arms free. It took him a second to find her and focus on her before let his shoulders relax and his fingers went to rest on his waist. He sucked in a deep breath, lips pressed into a line as he shook his head denying she'd left him too long.

Another breath and he brushed a thumb across his nose before nodding toward the door, "We uh... I mean... Just one drink's fine. 'Less you want something more. They got decent food even at this hour."

"Just one is fine." She can eat, but it doesn't do much for her. Less than drinking does at least. "But one sounds good."

She smiles, half encouraging and half apologetic, then looks over his shoulder to the door. "I didn't mean to startle you. Let me buy you a beer to make up for it."

"Nah," he waved her offered off with quick flick of a wrist and stepped over to yank the door open. He held it for her. As fat as he was concerned, it was his own fault. He hadn't been paying attention like he should have. It wasn't worth her wasting anything else on him when she was already giving up her time.

Course he didn't say any of that, but the thought process might have been somewhat visible in his expression, nervous as it was. Same as the day they'd met.

It's not hard tracking his nerves, even if she can't follow his exact thoughts. Hopefully it doesn't mean they're all the way back to square one—but even if they are, she knows she can handle it. She doesn't argue with him, walking through when he opens the door and otherwise giving him a little space.

Inside, she chooses a table in a marginally less crowded corner of the bar, even if none of it could be called quiet, and sits with her back to the room.

"So you come here often?"

Daryl followed her in, grateful that she took the chair facing the wall so he could put his back to it. He waved his hand toward the bar, holding up to fingers, and got a wave from the counter girl.

"After work sometimes," he answered as he spun the chair around so he could straddle it. Sitting like that was much more comfortable for him and helped him feel a little more relaxed. He kept his voice low, knowing she'd be able to hear him even with the noise. Neither of them were human, after all. "It's on the way back to my place so it's a straight shot. Not my favorite, but it's easy to find."

He's not wrong; she had no trouble hearing him.

"There was no trouble finding it," Natasha agrees, relaxing back into her seat. "It's almost a surprise I haven't been here before." She spends a lot of time in bars lately. More than she probably should. It's not like she has to worry about liver disease though, is it?

"So where did you have in mind to go for this ride?"

Daryl drummed his fingers on the table. He'd been thinking about backing out, but had hoped to get a drink in him to have time to either come up with a good reason or take the edge off his nerves.

"Uh... was thinking we could take the A3 into South Downs," he said slowly, confidence building in his voice as the sentence rolled out. Committing to the action meant he had to deal with it and just do it. He could. Be another ride into the National Park down south. Just couldn't spend as much time in the park as he liked.

"It's about an hour and a half ride this time of night," he continued, lifting his head to nod a thank you at the server when the beers were set out. "So three hours there and back. Some time to slow down and enjoy the country in between'll get us in the city again around 4 or 5, depending on if'n you want more or less time 'fore dawn."

Natasha catches the server's eye and smiles briefly in thanks before taking one of the beers and settling back.

"Sounds like a nice plan," she says after a sip. "As long as we're not cutting it too close, we can play it by ear." For obvious reasons, she couldn't be out too late. There was a certain risk involved in this kind of situation. She was trusting him to get her back early enough she didn't get crispy.

If she has any anxiety about it, though, she does a good job hiding it. Even from herself.

"I haven't seen anything out of the city yet—it'd be a shame to cut things too short."

"I drive out there about once a week," he assured her as he took a long pull on his beer. "Have been since I managed to get my bike put together. I know the drive times pretty well. We'll be good for up to two hours once we get out there. Sun don't rise 'til 5:45. Should make it back inta the city and wherever you need to be with time to spare."

Yes, that was an offer to drop her off at 'home'.

After a moment, he dropped his eyes and cleared his throat, "And if something goes bad, you can crash at my place for the day. Ain't much, but it'll keep the sun off you. Or I'll find you a hotel room. Something comfortable. I ain't really worried, though."

Did that count as an invitation? Hell, it might have. But it was true. If for some reason they cut it too close to sunrise for her to get to her place, there were other ways to keep the sun off her and give her time to sleep.

"You know, I was concerned, but you might be more worried about it than I am." Which does a good deal to put her mind at ease, actually, but she'd already been aware he was taking a risk on her too.

"I don't think it'll be a problem—thanks, though," she adds with a note of sincerity. She doesn't want to draw too much attention to his offer. As nervy as he gets, she doesn't want to make him think about it too much. "Mostly, I'm just looking forward to seeing it.

"And to the ride."

Daryl shrugged. All he knew about vampires he'd learned after arriving in London. There hadn't been any around the small towns he'd lived in for most of his life. Probably because everyone knew everyone in them and outside of the yearly hunting rush, there wasn't a lot of a transient population. Wouldn't have been easy to live unnoticed in that environment. Not the way witches and meta humans could. Or most shapeshifters.

So when he had been planning the trip, he'd tried to cover as many bases as possible. Looking up when sunrise was expected to be, double checking his drive times, the weather to make sure it was clear. Contingency routes in case a car wreck happened and they had to book it back. Stuff he normally didn't care to worry about.

But all he said as he finished his beer was, "You got a time limit I don't, Cinderella."

That startles a genuine laugh out of Natasha. If there was one thing Natasha's never been accused of, it's being a princess. "Cinderella, huh?" she says. "I like that."

She takes another drink mechanically. The beer doesn't do much for her, but she appreciates the act of drinking it with someone else.

"You'll have to tell me what it looks like out there during the day."

"Brighter, generally," he smirked, the beer doing it's job. He stood up as he reached for his wallet and pulled out a couple bills. They got folded up and put under his bottle for the server.

"Come on, if you don't want the bike to turn into a pumpkin 'fore you get to see it all, we best be getting on the rode."

Natasha stands, leaving her bottle with a little under half left. She rolls her shoulders and tips her head. "Lead the way," she says, and follows him out of the bar and into the street. The night is clear, though. In the city, that doesn't mean much. There's only a few stars visible, even those all but lost in the light pollution over the city.

She takes a deep breath, but mostly just smells the river.

"Tell me about your bike?"

"'92 Nighthawk CB750 frame," Daryl said, leading the way around the corner to the parking area and to his bike. It was obviously made from old parts scavenged from junkyards. This was a topic he was more than confident on and it showed. His shoulders were set back rather than hunched. Pride adding a bit of swagger to his stride.

He looked over at her as he handed her a spare helmet he'd borrowed from the shop just for tonight, "Yamaha YZF-R6 for the front end and brakes. 970 piggybacks for the shocks. A few other pieces here and there. Took me about a week to get her put together after I got my second paycheck. Got me moved up from just mechanic to a switch-up builder."

Natasha is suitably impressed—her eyebrows go up and she whistles silently as she takes the spare helmet. She walks half way around it before coming to the side, ready to climb on behind him. "How long did it take?"

She says it in part to encourage him, because she likes the way he perks up when he's confident, but also because she is impressed. He clearly knows what he's after and how to get it.

He climbed on so she could take her spot and sat for a moment to talk over his shoulder at her, "Well, getting most of the parts wasn't hard. The shop had a lot of spares and what I couldn't find there, I found in scrap yards around the city. Flagged a lot of what I wanted so I could buy 'em after I had the money. Since none of it was custom cut, just pieced together, I managed to get it built in about 72 hours all told. Like I said, took about a week, but that was with work and the commute between pick-ups. The hardest was my crossbow mount."

Daryl lifted his chin toward the strangely shaped rack hovering over the rear tire, "Spent a good twelve hours experimenting with what would work so I don't spend three minutes unlocking shit and leaving bungees all over the place."

That gets another look from her and a light touch. "I was wondering if I shouldn't ask about that. Maybe still wondering, but since you brought it up..." She shrugs, and for a moment it seems like she might drop the subject because she turns to climb on behind him and put on the helmet.

Then, after a beat, she finishes the thought. "What are you using the crossbow on?"

"Squirrel, mostly," Daryl answered without any hesitation. He held off on starting the bike for a few moments so he could finish. See if she had anything else she wanted to ask before the drive started.

"Rabbit sometimes. Duck in season. Used to hunt turkey back in Georgia, but ain't no turkey out here. 'Course, technically crossbow's illegal, but I keep it pretty quiet. Only load it up when I need to. Sometimes I use it for protection when doing the kind of hunting Hillingdon specializes in, but I prefer real hunting."

"That seems a little bit like overkill for a squirrel," she teases. She's willing to accept the answer, though. The fact he works with Hillingdon doesn't surprise her, and she files it away for later. At least it means she's friendly with someone over there.

Shrugging off that line of thought for later, she leans in. "Think it's time we got this show on the road? I can quit chatting for a while."

"Squirrel are fast little fuckers," Daryl laughed, as his foot went to the kickstarter. "Hang on."

That was her one warning before the engine roared to life. She could still talk for about a minute as he slowly moved the bike out onto the street, but that was about it. After that it was just the engine, the wind, and the highway. The lights of the city and the smaller towns shoved in along the edges bathed the streets in a warm yellow glow that followed them for most of the ride. It wasn't until they were actually on the edge of the National Park that the lights of so-called civilization bled away into the distance, seen only here and there at the small suburbs and estates that littered the land long before it's status had been declared. Daryl took the bike down one of the roads he knew would lead to an open field of grass where they could sit for a while or just idle along the roads around it.

The bike slowed down to a stop, though the engine stayed running and Daryl took in a deep, slow breath. This was what he missed most about city living.

"During the day, when the sun hits it in the evening, this place practically glows green. All the winter snow's gone and the new growth's coming in. It's like you're looking at the building blocks of the Emerald City. All it's missing is the yellow brick road."

Natasha takes to the ride easily, moving with him through the turns, enjoying the open highway. At least at this time of night, they don't have to compete with a lot of other traffic. She can just enjoy the speed and the sense of freedom and motion that's been missing from her life late. She seems comfortable enough riding behind him.

She chuckles at his description, both because of his choice of description and because he remembered her request that he tell her what it was like during the day. It had been as much an off the cuff comment as anything—something to get him talking about what he clearly enjoyed.

"It's definitely a long way from Kansas."

She leans back a bit as she says it, looking up at the stars, visible away from the city lights.

"This is nice though. Peaceful."

Daryl was used to people underestimating him, particularly his intelligence and attention to detail. But she didn't seem tbe making fun of him over it. Or questioning that he'd taken her seriously. He was a little surprised by that. Most people he'd just met made an off-hand comment about their own surprise when he did shit like that. He'd gotten it often enough from clients at work.

It was enough that he barely minded how close she'd stuck to his back while riding. Though he was relieved when she leaned away. He did his best not to telegraph that, however, and instead pulled his helmet off. He set it on the gas tank and leaned forward, arms crossed on top of it as the engine rumbled under them.

"Ain't never been to Kansas. All I know about it is what I seen in pictures and movies. But this is close to some of the farmlands in the middle of Georgia. Bigger. But the lay of the land is real close."

"Honestly, I haven't either. I've only been to the US a couple of times, and it's always been big cities." Vampires. She doesn't drag out that explanation. She's enjoying this as it is.

When he gets a little more space, she doesn't try to move closer or draw attention. If he needs more room, she'll let him have it. He's been a good sport.

"I've been in the country in Russia, though. And Germany. Italy, though it's been a while... This is different though. Greener."

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I really hate my tablets autocorrect /.\

Autocorrect is awful that way. Don't worry about it.

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