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A: Tea Shop

It was mid afternoon and Zuko found himself hanging little pumpkin lanterns in the window of the Jasmine Dragon. His boss said it was good for tourist, to get them in the Halloween spirit while they were away from America. Zuko was just thankful it wasn't tiny witch's hats. Nothing like insulting any supernatural guests that found themselves stumbling into the quaint little tea shop. And from what Zuko knew witches tended to be a proud lot. Not that he could mention any of this to his very normal human boss.

There was a jangling at the store front door and Zuko looked down from the step ladder he was balancing on to whatever guest just entered. Immediately he could tell someone from a faction had just walked in. He slowly lowered himself back down on to the floor ready for a tense conversation of him skirting around his own affiliations.

"How can I help you?"

B: Streets At Night

It had been a long day and the only thing on Zuko's mind was crashing in bed and not moving for several hours. However, he was becoming aware of another set of footsteps following his own down the mostly deserted street. He took a sharp turn to his right and listened. Definitely following. He waited until the person rounded the corner after him before he conjured a fireball and blasted it in their direction.

"Stop following me," he bellowed.

C: Hillingdon House

Not matter how many times he came here he always ended up feeling like a stranger. It wasn't too long ago he found himself here, a drifter in need of help and the clan had extended a hand. It was grounding and Zuko was always thankful for anything that showed him what path to lead. He just wished he could feel more comfortable talking to his fellow clansman. It was a problem that stemmed from him and he knew it. There was only one way over that particular hurdle, so he stopped by someone who seemed free and waved a little.

"Hey," Zuko said, "Can I ask you a question? Say you were avoiding someone for a long time, because you weren't sure if they'd want to know you anymore. Things were complicated. But then you ran into them. What would you do? Would you pretend nothing happened and try to build a relationship, or would you try to avoid them?"

He really wished his uncle was here. He was always brimming with confusing, but good advice. A stranger would have to do for now.

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Zuko could have slapped his face. He'd have to agree with her, that was very stupid. Not that he'd ever admit it. She looked to be just a kid, or so he guessed. Zuko always had a hard time pegging the age of teenagers. But when she said 'have a go' he full out sputtered, feeling his face turn red.

"Having a go! Do I really look like that type of person, you should be--"

He stopped. It was probably a bad idea to tell this girl? Woman? What she should or shouldn't be doing.

"If you're supernatural why don't you go somewhere for safety? Where they'll treat you... nicely."

She was a kid, though Nancy acted far older than her eighteen years most days. Ask anyone that knew her; she was an old soul.

An old soul who really couldn't believe what this kid was saying. Her jaw dropped and she looked at him, aghast.

"You don't even know me!" She started in on him, stamping her foot. "I'm perfectly safe, and I don't take kindly to what you're insinuating." He was right, though. While she did have some safety, her life wasn't exactly the most secure thing. But those safer spots were hardly where she was treated well. Too bad for Zuko she wasn't cursed anymore, so she wasn't about to tell him the nitty-gritty.

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. Time to back it up.

"Right, that was a git thing to say. I'm sorry," he paused and then added, "I could have really hurt you."

He said it to relieve his own guilt more than anything. It didn't feel right, not gentlemanly at all to just leave her with a bad apology and nothing else. Not when he had technically committed an act of violence and wasted her time.

"Look, I have twenty pounds. Why don't you take that. So you can get a taxi. Or whatever. Just don't mention this to anyone. Please."

No matter how long he had been alive sex was still a touchy subject and giving money to a prostitute for whatever reason was pushing his limits.

"Yes." She said, looking at him. "You could have." But she accepted the apology, and that was that. She was lucky she had magic on her side.

He seemed extremely worried about her mentioning this, which was enough to peak her interest. "No; keep the money. I've got my own, and I don't take things out of pity." Or whatever it was. She could only imagine it was pity, given the way they'd met. "I won't tell anyone, don't know what I'd tell them anyway. I don't particularly enjoy talking about my work to my friends." Kenzi was cool with it, and probably liked to hear some of the details of more interesting encounters. But.

"It's not pity it's... philanthropy," he finished lamely.

Zuko gave her an unsure look. He didn't have anyone he could call a friend in London, but as lonely as that was it didn't sound as bad as not being able to talk openly about things. He assumed that's what most people did, talk about their lives and woes.

"Sounds tough. I'm sorry."

He awkwardly looked around, at anything but Nancy. He wasn't good with this sort of thing. But he was genuinely sympathetic. He hoped it showed.

"Philanthropy." Nancy repeats dully, raising an eyebrow. "I don't need your philanthropy either. You know that's just a fancy word for charity, yeah?" Something rich folks used. Well, she didn't need it. Hell, she didn't want it.

"Nothing to be sorry for." As for not talking to people about her life? It was easier to not talk than to talk about it. No need to burden people with her woes.

"It's not charity. You... earned it." Doing what? Who knows. Talking to him was probably a job in itself. Zuko knew he wasn't exactly personable, although he did try his best.

"Being out all night, I mean. I'm just being a good--" he paused. How the hell would he describe himself?

"It's just nice," he decided, skirting around the issues of his identity.

"No," she tells him, though it's not nearly as harsh this time. The irritation of nearly being fried was wearing off. "I don't want your money. I only take what I earn, and I didn't earn whatever you've got on you."

Well. Sometimes she took what she didn't earn, but that's where picking pockets came in.

"You keep it. Give it to someone that actually needs it. There are plenty of homeless around, yeah?"

Zukp nodded, pocketing his wallet. He recognized pride when he saw it and he really didn't hold it against her. She was obviously strong and independent and she didn't need his weekly tips. He could respect that.

"Yeah, I guess I can go philanthropize them." It was a joke, and an intensely unfunny one. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"If you ever want tea some night you can come by the Jasmine Dragon. Free cup on me."

Damn straight! Took you long enough to realize.

"Jasmine Dragon. Alright, I'll look into it." She purses her lips, watching him put the wallet away. She could accept free tea. This was England, after all. People tended to offer you a cuppa just for breathing.

"And you should look into not throwing fireballs at girls just trying to make a living."

"... Right. I'll work on that." Full body shame was creeping up on him. Served him right, really. He resisted the urge to rub at his scar. Instead he turned, walked a few feet, then turned back to Nancy and waved a little in a departing gesture.

"Get home safe."

He then started heading down the street in the direction of his apartment, hoping that was the end of his late night encounters.

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