undergrounds | Food, Glorious Food (closed to Arthur)

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Food, Glorious Food (closed to Arthur)

Before anyone said anything, let us be clear: this was not a date. This was Nancy, trying to make up for the inconvenience she had posed to one of her (surprisingly dear) friends the night of Lewisham. And she was doing it the only way she knew how to that didn't involve spreading her legs.

She was cooking dinner.

Her apartment was cleaned for the occasion, the lights dimmed and more than a few candles lit in the small apartment. Juliet had already been warned against playing with them, and so the cat had contented herself to laying on a particularly soft part of her couch and taking in the noise of Nancy cooking as only a cat could do.

Now, Nancy wasn't a particularly good cook, nor was she particularly bad. So she'd spent the afternoon whipping something simple together (salad, bread, salmon, and a lot of wine) for the two of them. By the time Arthur was due to arrive, Nancy had nearly everything ready.

She was prepared for the occasion not in her usual work clothes, but something a bit more casual. She still wore a skirt, but her shirt was a bit more what most people would call appropriate. Her makeup was subdued, and her hair hung down freely around her face. Very much the sort of way someone would dress if this were a date of sorts, instead of just simply an 'I'm sorry I ruined your already shitty evening thanks for putting me up on your couch' dinner. Which it was. For the record.

Still, she wanted to make a good impression, considering the state she'd been in the last few times she'd seen him. Show him that she could be respectable. The whole thing made her stomach turn.

So she'd already had a glass or two of wine before Arthur showed up, what of it? Nancy was already bounding to the door when the knock sounded, setting her glass down on the kitchen counter as she passed. She nearly flung open the door to greet her friend with a warm hug and a brief kiss on the cheek. "Arthur! Come in- I've got beer or wine, whatever you'd prefer, in the fridge, and plenty to eat, so I hope you're hungry. Let me get your jacket, yeah?" She held her hands out for the object in question. "Welcome, by the way, you find my place alright?"

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"Yeah, sure," he says, standing almost too quickly. He doesn't bat an eye when the tray floats out of the oven - he had almost gotten used to magic being used so casually before he came to London.

"Smells delicious," he tells her as he sits down. He knows he's already said it, but it bears repeating in the face of nothing else to say.

she blinks at the quickness. alright. the pan sets itself down with a little wobbling. "thanks," she said. "I'll let it cool and we've got salad and bread." she was working with her hands now to get the bread cut, though the salad bowl floated itself out of the fridge.

it doesn't take her long to plate everything. "let's finish these glasses, then. and we can start on your wine."

"Sure."

Arthur wonders to himself again at the fact that back home Nancy wouldn't technically be allowed any of this wine, but he doesn't say anything about it. It's a useless contribution that would only be met on deaf ears on Nancy's part, but it's difficult not to feel a bit strange sitting here waiting for her to serve him dinner. He waits patiently for Nancy to get settled in at the table and have a few bites before he speaks again.

"So, what do you think of Eames' deal?"

That was back home, and this is England. Nancy's been drinking since she was a child. Fagin didn't give a rat's ass what the children imbibed, and Nancy only found it to help her. It dulled the rest of the world, kept it away for at least a little while longer.

Eames' deal. Oi. Speaking of wine, she takes another drink, gathering her thoughts before exhaling. "It's- look. Between the two of us, he's a lovely man. He's been nothing but kind to me-" except when he hired someone to watch her "-and really seems to care. But... when it comes to business, I can't trust him." She didn't trust fae.

"But we need the territory. Abby and Kenzi were suspicious, and there were a lot of added everything, when he posed the deal to them, but..." She shakes her head. That had been the most awkward of meals, putting her in an odd place. "We're not attacking Daybreak on their behalf. We're not attacking the fae. They're saying fuck you to Redbright, and your enemies' enemies are your friends, aren't they?" Tell her she's right.

Edited 2015-12-20 14:09 (UTC)

Arthur nods along. It's more than Eames has told him, but that's not saying much. Eames has been... cagey since Lewisham, and Arthur hasn't quite figured out why yet.

"Sure," he says, in response to her question. "I guess, when you look at it, they're putting you in a position where theoretically you shouldn't have to worry about being attacked. It's Daybreak and fae on all sides, and now you have truces with both. If Sylvia's true to her word, then Daybreak won't attack, and now Eames has made a deal with you on behalf of the fae. He's cleared it with the courts."

Arthur takes a bite of food thoughtfully. He would have loved to be there at that dinner, to see how they managed to come to an agreement. He adds after a moment; "--and all you have to to know about Eames is that he's good for a deal and he hates Sylvia Redbright."

Edited 2015-12-21 14:56 (UTC)

She points her fork at him, loaded with salad, by way of agreement. If that didn't work, her nod should have. "Exactly. We just need a place where we can be safe. And if Redbright attacks us, it'll have been her that broke the truce, not us. Which would only prove to the whole of London that she can't be trusted." Which just happened to be Abby's plan, in the long-run.

It was good, though, he'd cleared the deal with the courts. She'd assumed, but to hear it from a second source was a good as confirmation.

"Thank you. For being a character witness" She was serious, as well. if Arthur, with whatever his relationship with Eames was, could say he was good for a deal, then she believed it.

Arthur shrugs one shoulder, non-committal. "I don't know a whole lot about the fae, but I do know that there are a few of them who just don't want to be strong-armed out of the city. As far as I can tell, that's the goal for him. If it's a trick, well, you still have territory and a fae's word that he won't betray your circle."

At least the fae have a reason to dislike Sylvia. Arthur just opposes her on a moral basis.

"Fagin tried to avoid politics," Nancy tries to explain. "He had his place in Lewisham, and will be damned before he gives it up. Not that he isn't already as damned as can be." She finishes this statement with a side-long glance and another drink of wine. He's one of the reasons she drinks, if Arthur's powers of deduction were off.

"But when Lewisham was threatened, he sent the boys out to do his dirty work, just as always." Nancy shakes her head and goes for Arthur's bottle of wine, to uncork it.

"At least. They don't have anything to gain, by betraying us, at any rate. Not that I can see." The bottle is uncorked in near-record time and she holds it out to him. "Let me know when you're ready."

Arthur glances at Nancy's wine glass as she talks, wondering just how often she drinks. It seems at least that she has a bit of experience, since she seems oddly steady despite having had a couple glasses that he knows of.

He nods when she offers the next bottle, holding up his glass for her to refill it. "You're right. Why make an enemy of yet another faction? They need allies in the mortal realm, as far as I can tell."

She drinks a lot, harder things than wine, and she's been doing it since she was young. Fagin was from another time, where alcohol was better for you than the water, and he tended to instill that in his wards. Nancy was proof of that. And her reliance on it.

She uncorks his bottle, and pours them each a glass. "Exactly." There's a sigh there, though. "I bloody hate politics."

Arthur lets out a brief chuckle, then takes a sip of wine. "I don't know, it's kind of fun. And particularly important, for all of us. It's our responsibility to get involved, you just have to figure out how and why is best for you."

Nancy gives him a pointed look, and points her fork at him. "You're not the one who's been kidnapped. Or is one of the leading members of a controversial new coven." Ergo, it's really not fun anymore. And he'd had the option of getting involved in this world, she assumed. She had been born into it.

Speaking of...

"How did you find out about us? I'm just curious, you don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just think it'd be interesting to hear. I never had the option of not knowing."

Arthur gives her a thoughtful frown over the rim of his wine glass as he takes another sip. His past is generally on a need-to-know basis, but it's not exactly confidential. Some parts are, of course, but others are things he just chooses to keep to himself. He sighs and puts his glass down as he considers where to start.

"I was enlisted," he says, "to hunt vampires. I had the right skills for this team, and the mystery of the whole thing was interesting to me, so I joined on. I did that for a few years, and then I decided to move on, find other jobs that were a little more... research based."

He shrugs one shoulder. "I ended up traveling around the world with a witch and his wife, kind of as their bodyguard. I was there for when things got messy or they were in a more dangerous situation. He liked to get into dangerous situations."

Nancy takes all of this into consideration. "Interesting- like a branch of the military or something? " She had no idea how the American military worked at all. Regardless, his story was still interesting.

"I can imagine how that turned out- so what brought you to London, then? If you were traveling." She was full of questions, but it gave her time to eat while he talked, and honestly, she didn't know anything about Arthur. At this point, he knew more about her than she knew about him, and maybe tonight they could even that out a bit more.

Better than politics, anyway, and she knew most people liked to talk about themselves.

He doesn't answer her question about the military. It's not really supposed to be common knowledge that the American military funds a team of specialized vampire killers, so he keeps it mum whenever he can.

"He had to go somewhere and he didn't need me with him, so I decided to settle down here. We'll meet up again at some point, but I've liked spending a little time in one place for a while."

Silence is enough of an answer, but she doesn't press.

"Well, I'm glad you chose London. Granted, I've never been anywhere else, but, I'd say it's a damn good city." She takes a drink, setting her fork down. "Plus, it means I got to meet you."

He smiles, glancing bashfully down at his food. "It's definitely one of the more interesting places I've been," he says. "I don't think you'll find a supernatural community anything quite like this anywhere else in the world. Not that I've been everywhere, but there are so many supernatural cultures here all packed in together in this city. Maybe that's why everything's so... contentious."

"Only place I've been." She would have loved to travel, but never had the mean outside of the country. Even trips to Wales or Scotland were rare.

"I always wonder what the communities must be like in places like New York." It had to be huge and flashy, she imagined. Elegant. Theirs was just... contentious. "But I never thought about it like that. Never gave it much thought really, though. Other than just all the old energy here, living in such a place with such history. We have cobblestones older than your country here."

Arthur gives another shrug and nods thoughtfully. It's been a while since he was in America, and the majority of his time spent there was not rubbing elbows with the supernatural. He was more likely to be hunting them.

"I guess it's about what you'd expect. There's a lot less tradition there, but there's also a sense of pride. The thing is, the country's so big that there's room to spread out - if you don't like what the witches are doing in LA, there's another coven in San Francisco doing something that might suit you better. People still get attached - and New York's one of those places where no one wants to be pushed out - but there's less... entitlement. Or maybe there is, but it just comes in a different flavour."

She follows along, picking at her food as he explains the way it is in the US. Part of it seems so strange. Other parts, well, probably makes sense. It had to be a lot like the American political system, she figured. President of the Supernatural. Or so she could easily imagine.

"And you were in New York," she assumes again. "I'd love to go, see what it's like over there, both in the Supernatural communities and not." She could probably get a good amount of work over there, if she wanted. But ideally, she wouldn't be on a working vacation, just a vacation. "New York has to be astounding, underground-wise. Or do you call it the Subway over there?" A joke, delivered over the top of her wine glass. She's going a bit slower now, for Arthur's sake. Besides, despite years of drinking, she can feel the easy trickle of wine in her veins, making things a bit more subdued, a little more hazy.

Brilliant, just the way she preferred it.

"Actually, I grew up in Chicago, but I've been to New York a number of times," he says, then adds with a smile, "and no, they don't call it the subway. Most of the time I spent there was before I knew about any of this, trips with my parents or with friends, before I got recruited. It's an interesting city to begin with, but after you add that in..."

He gestures with his wine glass and takes another sip. It's clear he enjoys talking about this. The culture of it all is what draws him, this extra layer of life just below the surface. "There are vampires with lofts on fifth avenue hosting parties for the rich and famous, halfway houses that are actually covens made up of poor kids who don't have anywhere else to go... I went to a night club once on business and found out that it was completely owned and operated by werewolves. No one gets away with anything when the bouncers are actually wolves."

"Really!" New information had her leaning forward. "Sorry, this is all really interesting to me." At least he seems to find it interesting, too. HE seems more animated, a bit more at ease. Or maybe that's just the wine.

She purses ehr lips. "Seems like it'd make sense. Kensington is filled with vampires, old money quite literally." And as for halfway houses... "Almost sounds like the boys'." Some of them were meta-human, others young fae children. Mostly, however, they were humans, stolen or found. Others, like Nancy, had been given.

"Maybe I'll introduce you to them. Or take you to some of the more out-of-the-way places around here." Human, or witch, Nancy ran in darker circles than she believed Arthur would. "There's an entire back room at The Jolly Roger that's for the supernatural. We don't have to hide anything there." She could even work there without any problems. It helped that her friend bartended and had a short temper. And a great throwing arm.

Arthur raises an eyebrow at her as he takes another sip of wine.

"People like me aren't generally welcomed with open arms in places like that," he says. His tone isn't patronizing, but he does wonder if she knows what he does. There has to be a bit of a divide in his line of work.

"Neither am I." Prostitutes tended to get kicked out of a lot of bars. Not to mention, any Daybreak aligned organizations didn't take too kindly to Midnight witches, either. But no, she didn't know what he did. He was a hunter, she had assumed. But one of the good guys.

"But you're part of it," he says patiently. "I'm on the outside looking in, and sometimes I'm also pointing a gun."

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