undergrounds | some kind of resolution (january catch-all for nancy and annie)

It's been a while since the two of them have been able to talk, and it's not something Eames would typically worry about, but with everything that's happened... Everything happening. It'd be nice to catch up.

And he has a new flat! It's in vampire territory - Eames has obviously ceased to care about these things - but Canary Wharf is gorgeous, and the flat is spacious and freshly decorated for Eames to move in. Buying a 3-bed out here may be a little like flaunting his wealth, but there are practical reasons. Of course.

Eames comes out with a bowl of salad in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, and he sets them down with a cordial smile at Nancy. "How hungry are you?"

She likes the flat, Nancy decides pretty quickly. The fact that it's in vampire territory doesn't even bother her for a second. Though, it's curious that a fae would so willingly move here, when their blood has a drug-like effect on vampires. Still, she won't question Eames' decisions.

Though why a 3-bed, she will never know.

"Starved," she confesses over at him. "I haven't eaten since breakfast." She looks at the salad. "May I trust that you have not poisoned, magicked, or otherwise tampered with any of the food that would put me and my independence at stake?" She had to ask. "I don't mean to offend." But she probably already had. Way to go Nancy.

It's fine, he expected it. Eames raises his eyebrows in mock-offence anyway, taking a chiding tone as he pours two glasses of wine and slides one across the table toward Nancy. "Worried I'd betray your trust and try to spirit you away under my thumb? I should be offended."

Should be, perhaps, but there's a lightness to his movements all the same as he takes his glass with him back to the kitchen. With all that's going on, Eames is very much looking forward to a quiet night with company he can stand for more than two minutes.

"You needn't worry," he calls from the kitchen, in between the clatter of him finishing up with the cooking, "it's all completely mundane, non-magical food."

She accepts the glass, and looks up at him with a roll of her eyes. "I am more use to you here, that's for sure." She'd be super useless in Faery. Here, she was his in with Shadow Coven, and Midnight in general. And anything he'd want her for in Faery could be accomplished here with greater ease. But you never knew with Fae, they played long games.

"Thank you- it's a habit, nothing personal at all. I'm glad you understand." She moves to place a hand on one of the chairs, leaning over slightly towards the kitchen. "D'you need any help in there?"

It's true that Nancy's more use to him here, but more than that, Nancy's far too savvy to the likes of the fae for him to try something as overdone as tricking her with fae food. Plus? The work:payoff ratio would be terrible. It's just all-around a bad idea right now.

Not that he's thinking about that, at the moment he's more concerned with plating the food and considering the best way to bring it out. "I'm fine," he answers while he stares at everything for a moment, coming out a moment later to set both their plates down. It's a good meal in his estimation - steak and a healthy array of roast vegetables with a red wine gravy, a liberal portion for Nancy too. He's quite looking forward to it. "Just enjoy your food," he says as he retreats back to the kitchen to get his glass.

Nancy tries not to look too eager as he sets the plate down in front of her, but it's pretty useless as she practically drools over the food. "Wow," she breathes, taking in the multitude of vegetables, "I had no idea you could cook."

Of course he could. He was however old. It'd be a waste of time if he hadn't learned to cook yet.

Setting her napkin in her lap, because she was actually raised to be quite polite, she waited to start to eat until Eames would return, instead content to sip on her wine. "Seriously, this looks amazing." Once he's sitting, she'll start to eat.

"Of course I can cook." Eames says it with a scoff, affecting some faux offence at the idea he's not amazing at everything he puts his hand to. But he appreciates the compliment nevertheless, a gentle hum in appreciation escaping around a bite of food.

He pauses a few mouthfuls in to take a sip of wine, and he gives Nancy a considering look. It's been a while since they've been able to actually talk, and danger seemed to follow her like a duckling following its mother.

"How have you been?" He asks after another moment, casual as he goes back to his food.

"Oh, shush," she gives him a look, though it turns into a bright smile. "Of course you can cook, you're absolutely right, and this proves it." She points down at the food. Seriously, really good human non-fae food.

How has she been, that's a very good question, and Nancy uses the question to buy herself some time to eat. And drink. "I've been-" she tries, chewing and swallowing. "-I've been a fucking mess, Eames." There was no use in lying to him, if he couldn't lie to her.

She reaches up to take hold of her curtain of hair and pulls it back, revealing the bruises and scratches on her neck. "Someone sent a fae after me." The scratches had an odd green color to them, healing from the attack, though the bruises were still dark purple.

Well fuck.

Eames pauses - he knows Nancy doesn't do well with violent outbursts - and pulls in a deep breath before he speaks. His fork warps slightly in his hand from the strength of his grip, but that's the only outward sign of his feelings on the matter.

"Do you know who it was?"

Nancy purses her lips slightly as the fork moves, and she shrinks back just a little. It's easy to forget just how amazingly strong he is.

But she recovers quickly. "Yeah- left me his passport and everything." She rolls her eyes and takes a drink like it's nothing. "He was at least a good foot taller than me. It was dark, I couldn't see much- he had like, tusks, but that's all I could really make out." She should have tried a bit harder to remember, but the whole thing had happened so quickly.

Well that doesn't narrow it down, could be any old ogre. Eames pushes a vegetable around the plate, but his appetite has pretty much gone. Sometimes they like to shoot their mouths off and do some monologuing, but that mustn't have been the case here.

"I'll look into it," he says, reaching for the bottle to top himself up. "Did he say why, at least?"

"You don't need to," she says quickly, reaching out to steady his hand with a single touch. "There really isn't anything to do about it." She tries to wave the situation away with her hand now holding her wine glass.

"Norrell. and Fagin. I think he got word about the night he had me abducted. Wants me out of fae business." Which was impossible, as the fae had likely guessed, given the fact that Fagin was involved.

"There's always something to be done, Nancy." If it wasn't for the way his temper sat just below the surface, the way he says it could almost be mistaken for playful. Roguish, even, in Eames' usual manner. As it is, it likely comes across a shade darker than intended.

He considers his options over a sip of wine-- with how little Nancy knows, it'll take time to track the little piggy down. That doesn't do anything for Nancy's safety in the meantime.

"If I name you as someone under my protection, that'll ward at least some of them off." He may not have the connections certain other fae have accrued over time, but Eames is a damn sight more reputable. Enemies are a complication he tries to avoid developing. "But Fagin will know quickly enough."

It's an offer, one he'll leave up to her. Normally he wouldn't care, but where Fagin's concerned it all gets a little messy.

"do it." Nancy surprises herself with the ferocity of the words. Anything for a little bit of security. she needed it more and more she'd learned. Life was getting dicier and dicier, and she had fresh bruises to show for it. Fagin couldn't protect her anymore and she'd known that for some time. but Eames actually speaking about protecting her made her realize it.

he'd be furious, Fagin. but she could explain to him and he'd listen. he'd listen and that didn't change her relationship with the old one. it just meant Eames was responsible for her well-being. she could keep her allegiance as it was now. She's still give Fagin what he wanted. She could just breath easy knowing she didn't have other fae trying to kill her.

"Name me under your protection- Fagin can't do anything for me and he's made this more complicated for me with his dealings. You've done more for me than he ever has, in all the years I've known him. give me your protection." she was still Fagin's daughter, for all intents and purposes. but this was just another way to separate herself from him, without ruining anything.

"he's not the one I'm loyal to."

She answers so quickly, Eames almost has to ask her to repeat herself. He considers it for a moment, but he'd made the offer because he meant it and he has enough friends on the shadier sides of things to keep a lot of people off her back. And even those who don't care much... Well. They should get back to him soon enough.

Tracking down the runt who attacked her will take a little more work on his part, but he needn't bother Nancy with all that. Best to get things back on a more positive footing.

"Consider it done," Eames says with a smile and a tip of his glass in her direction before he finishes this glass of wine too. It's quickly becoming a liquid dinner for him, evidently.

Fagin will, if nothing else, pay them each a visit. But he was a coward, and it wouldn't take more than a show of strength from Eames to get him to back off. Bastard.

"Thank you!" She breaths a sigh of relief and actually stands up from her part of the table, coming around to give him a hug. Yes, a hug, and even a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you- Eames, I mean it." She liked to think she could handle herself, but the past few months had been showing her just how wrong she was.

Satisfied with her show of affection, she returns to her seat to hold up her wine glass. "Should we drink to it?"

Well that sure was some physical affection. Eames laughs softly, even going so far as to to tilt his cheek up toward her for the kiss, but make no mistake. He's glad once that moment's passed.

"Good idea," Eames tops up Nancy's glass and pours himself a new one, though with the way Eames has been getting through the wine that kind of finishes off the bottle. He sighs and gets up to get another from the kitchen. Or two. Between himself and Nancy, it's probably a realistic assumption that they could get through another two bottles without much effort.

Nancy, for as good as she is with reading bodies, doesn't notice his slight discomfort. he hides it well and in no time she's happy to keep up with the drinking and the eating.

it's a huge relief to know that Eames is now officially looking after her. His name carries a weight that Fagin never would, especially now that he's been leading so many takeovers. Nancy eases back into her chair.

"how is Croydon looking?"

It's almost like Nancy has never heard of a positive conversation topic. Eames clenches his jaw at the mention of Croydon and sighs, "like Daybreak will have it within the week." And boy is that a sore topic for Eames, more than them fucking up his deal with Midnight, they've taken a lot since Norrell came swanning into town.

"I'm working on moving people out of the Council's grasp right now."

Positive conversation topics? Is wine considered a positive conversation topic?

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. It wasn't his fault, what had happened with the deal. She didn't blame him one bit, and if the others did, then they were wrong. It was Norrell's fault, completely. "Fuck Daybreak," she said, drinking more.

Okay, she can agree, that's an awful, depressing conversation topic.

"I'll drink to that," Eames says with a i>slightly bitter laugh, and he raises his glass in a toasting motion before he takes another sip. His meal is pretty much forgotten at this point. Who needs food when you have bitterness and alcohol to sustain you?

some kind of resolution (january catch-all for nancy and annie)

the 10th~ish

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