undergrounds | HOUNSLOW TERRITORY CLAIM

Daryl didn't really know anyone from Redbright except Natasha. But he'd been avoiding her because she was a vampire and he hadn't exactly had good relations with vamps lately. The one that had helped him out of the fighting pits he was okay with, of course. In theory. Same with Nat. But knowing that and feeling it in the moment when he was near a vampire? That was hard.

Still, he needed to learn the territory he was going to help defend and she was the only one he knew for sure was part of Redbright. Aside from Lance, who he assumed was probably still recovering.

So it was Natasha he called up after Faolan announced the successful negotiation. A gruff, hesitant (for him) message was left. Asking her to meet him for a patrol of Hounslow.

Natasha texts Daryl to confirm the plan. Sure, she'll be there on time. She hasn't heard from him for a while, but she's had other things to concern her too. She doesn't blame him for having other priorities—or for not wanting to talk to her, not with the state vampires were in.

But now it looks like they're on the same side officially, at least for now and against this particular enemy. She can fall in line. It helps that she'll be escorting someone she already knows.

That evening, she's waiting for him on time. Despite the heat, she wears a leather jacket and boots, arms crossed over her chest.

Daryl's dressed as he normally is. Checked flannel shirt with the sleeves hacked off. Leather vest over the top. Jeans with holes in the knees. The knives he had were concealed and his gun was hidden, too. Nothing to make him look like he was being illegal in anyway. Just a guy out to meet up with a girl.

He showed up on time, walking from the train station rather than on his bike. He didn't the territory enough yet to pick a spot to park it. And they'd be walking anyway.

When he saw her, his jaw tightened and he looked suitably abashed at not having contacted her in a while before he nodded at her in greeting.]

Hey.

"Hey," she responds. She can read his expression, but she's not sure exactly what it means. Even without knowing the specifics, though, she can guess at the gist.

"Long time no see," Natasha says rather than ask for the details. "I was thinking we might pick up some coffee? Get it to go, for the walk."

Coffee. He could do coffee.

Daryl nodded, lips pressing together as he did so. He got up to her and fell in step beside her figuring he'd follow her lead. If she was thinking of it, she probably had a place picked out. He stayed quiet for a bit, just walking along beside her, occasionally glancing up to watch her before letting his eyes drift back to the street.

Eventually he grunted out, "Sorry."

"For what?" Natasha keeps her eyes ahead for the most part. She knows how shy Daryl can be and she doesn't want to make him feel on the spot. She's content to lead the way. She does have a place in mind—somewhere open late. The students spend a lot of time there, leeching the shop's wifi.

"Last I check, you didn't ow me an apology for anything." Could be there was something she doesn't know about, but Natasha doesn't think that is all that likely.

"Ain't been around," he answered softly with another shrug. Of course, the same could be said of her. But Daryl had it in his head it was up to him to call her, not the other way around. And since he hadn't, since he'd been avoiding that, it was on him to apologize.

"There's been a lot going on. I can hardly blame you for being distracted. I imagine we've both been busy." She glaces at him sideways, smiling gently to signal that she accepts his apology none the less. "Nice to see you again, though. It has been a while."

"Busy's one way of putting it," he agreed in the most general of senses. A slightly forced half smile turned up the edges of his lips. He was fighting with himself to not be a dour asshole. It wasn't like Natasha was one of the vampires that had done what they had to him. She probably didn't know anything about it.

"Nice to see you, too. Redbright got you busy?"

She doesn't. While she's tried to keep on top of what's been happening, her attention has largely been on Harris and a few other key targets. She hadn't been tracking Daryl, of course. That would have seemed like an invasion of privacy. Now, she takes the hint that she missed something important though. Important and probably relevant.

"Yeah. I've had a lot of work. A lot to keep on top of." She smiles a little, ginger but testing. "No time for nighttime rides. Which is a shame, because they'd be a lot more fun than what I've been up to."

Daryl stopped trying to force the smile and dropped his head, "Ain't been on much of those myself."

He'd gotten out of the city only a couple times since he'd been pulled out of that hell hole and neither time had been at night. He'd stayed around other people or at home for the most part until he decided to start hunting in the Nest. The reaction hadn't been intentional. He hadn't meant to look afraid to go out and live his life normally. It'd just happened and it was only when he realized it was happening that he forced himself to stop. To take up arms. To fight back and stop acting like he was some chickenshit sacred of his own shadow.

"Need to find the time again."

"Well if you do, give me a call," Natasha says. Her tone isn't pushy or demanding, more inviting—she has the feeling Daryl would convince himself not to if she gave him an out.

"I think after this is over we could all use some fresh air."

"Yeah. I'd like that," he admitted quietly before lifting his head and watching the road she was leading them down. Went silent again. Coffee first, then try to figure out what else to say.

Natasha doesn't force Daryl into more conversation, content for the moment to walk side by side down the street, the quiet companionable. Skittish and he can be, she can't shake the feeling she needs to get him comfortable with her again.

The coffee shop isn't far off, mostly full of students working on various papers and projects. "What do you take?" she asks, only once they're inside.

"Black," he said. There was a pause and he lifted a hand to his mouth as he coughed out "half-cream" into it. He'd always had to sneak that much creamer into his coffee back in Georgia, growing up, if he wanted to be able to stand it. But the rest of his family had drunk it black, so he'd gotten used to ordering it that way, too. The manner of requesting how he actually preferred it was mostly reflex. Still something he was trying to train himself out of.

His eyes flicked from the ground to meet hers and a genuine smile of shy embarrassment twisted his lips upward before he could duck his head. He cleared his throat and said in a louder voice, trying to own his preferences, "Half-cream. No sugar."

Natasha didn't laugh at that, but she couldn't hide a smile. It was in keeping with what she's seen of him so far, the gruffness protecting someone more sensitive underneath. It isn't that she doesn't think he's tough or resilient enough, but there's something somehow charming about the act if hiding.

Maybe that said something about her.

She'll order for both of them, the coffee half cream no sugar for him, and an Americano for herself, an she pays for both of them, getting their coffees to go.

Daryl accepts the coffee, forgoing the 'you didn't have to pay' platitude and instead skipping straight to the, "Thanks." He figures if she didn't want to pay or didn't feel she should, she'd have said something.

The first sip is taken while it's still really too hot to drink it and he doesn't wince at all. Lid off so he could get as much as possible in the short take. The creamer was already doing it's job in cooling it fast and making it palatable.

"Mmmm," he breathed out, savoring the taste before slowly licking his upper lip to clean what little had settled there. "I think I'm gonna have to make this walk a regular thing. Patrolling, a'course."

Daryl didn't try to hide the sly, joking smile.

Putting his face on Hillingdon, of all the people she knows in that faction, is probably among the most comforting way it could have been framed for Natasha. While her experiences with the hunters and shapeshifters there have not by and large been unpleasant. More good than bad, even.

But Daryl does strike her as the most genuine, even when he was awkward.

Maybe especially then.

She returns his smile, equally sly. "Of course. Patrolling." She lifts her chin a little, arch as she continues. "It's a pretty nice area to patrol. Especially with company."

"Only if the company's good." Daryl glanced sideways at her again, smile getting just smidge bigger. He ducked his head and chanced a light elbow into her arm before sobering up and looking at her again. The company was good tonight.

Instead of saying that aloud, though, he just looked at her and took another, longer, sip of his coffee.

It's all right, Daryl. Natasha can read between the lines. She smiles behind her coffee cup, amused by his coyness. She'll let him have it. He's a cat, after all. Natasha's heard you have to let cats come to you, after all.

"I'll show you my route," she says instead. "But let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see."

Daryl fell silent in that way he did, following along and nodding or grunting when she made a comment about something or other. He'd remember it fine even if he didn't give much weight to all of it right then and there.

After a while, though, he got real curious and eventually asked, "You live around here?" Tried to make it sound casual and off-handed.

His attempt to sound casual might have failed, but it does get a smile out of Natasha. The fact he tried, even if it doesn't come off as easily as he might have intended, is worth plenty on its own.

"Depends on what you mean by around here," she says, gently teasing. "Not too far. Why? Did you want to go back to my place?"

Daryl went completely still. That wasn't the direction he'd been going with his thoughts. It was certainly a safe assumption for most people to make. He really shouldn't have been surprised she'd gone that way with it. But it took him a moment to process the question and the way she'd said it. Was she joking or was she serious? And if she was serious, what was she trying to imply with that tone? It was friendly, right? Maybe it was because he'd offered to let her stay at his place. Maybe it was a return on that favor.

Okay, that made sense.

He tried to cover his stillness by forcing himself to move a second later and suck down the rest of his coffee. Ended up coughing a little as he crumpled the cup and found a basket to toss it into. He gave a small shrug to try and play off the nervousness he was sure was obvious to her at that point, "Could walk you home if you want." It wasn't a yes or a no, but it left it open to her inviting him back if she decided she wanted to.

"You could, if you wanted," Natasha says, shaking her head a little. "After we finish our rounds at least. We still have a lot of ground to cover though. We can figure out how we want to handle that then."

She gives him an amused look, the earlier awkwardness passing as she remembers his skittishness&mdsdh;that, and the way he's been her friend so far.

"I mean, you could have come by before if I knew you were interested."

He looked like he wanted to answer her, but as soon as the words 'wasn't interested' had formed in his head he knew it would be suicide to say them. Or, maybe not suicide, but definitely rude. But saying he was interested might sound like he wanted something more physical from her than what they had. Which he wasn't really after, though he guessed he wouldn't be opposed to. Hell, he didn't know.

He needed a safer way of saying it.

"Figured you woulda, know you, invited me." His tone wasn't accusatory. Just awkward. "I mean, if you wanted me to come over."

HOUNSLOW TERRITORY CLAIM

For Natasha

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