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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"The stories are about us," Daryl countered. "The folk tales and legends, they're the history those who aren't quite human have left for us to learn from. Oral traditions that became written ones, passed down as much by the humans who couldn't explain what they saw as they were by those of us hiding within their numbers. There's a quote, goes something like 'those who don't pay attention to history are doomed to repeat it'. If the only histories we have are in the stories, then it's worth paying attention to."

"You think so?" Her brows go up a little at his reading of it. She doesn't pretend not to be a little skeptical of his explanation, but she doesn't dismiss it outright.

"It always seems to me more like humans telling the stories they need, and they use monsters and magic to fill the gaps. A vampire or a werewolf is a pretty powerful symbol. But stories about children being born with a caul being more likely to be vampires or people who had lived immoral lives didn't tell vampires much about themselves.

"On the other hand, I suppose we usually have a nest and elders around for that."

She inclines her head a little at the end of her statement, accepting the fact that shapeshifters and vampires might not have a lot in common other than being supernatural.

"Humans had to get the monsters from somewhere," he said, not at all offended by her skepticism. He was used to that. "I'm not saying all of them are about us, but I'm not saying they ain't, neither. They old stories hold more truth in 'em than fiction if you listen right. The newer ones are inspired by those ones and the lessons in 'em can be just as meaningful, hopeful, cautionary, to us as they can be to the humans that use 'em as metaphors. More so, because they teach us how humans see us. And from that, we can learn to walk among them by being what they don't expect."

That gets a surprised laugh out of Natasha. At this point, that might just mean not sparkling, or working as a brooding private investigator. Perceptions could change so much in a few decades.

"I wouldn't say there's nothing there for us to learn from. Like you said, it's good to know how we're seen... and we're not that far from human in most ways."

To Daryl's credit, he'd been so far out of the loop on current popular media, he had no idea people were writing about daywalkers glimmering in the sun like some Fae Lord or whatever other strange twists humans with too much time on their hands liked to write about. He was more familiar with pop culture from the 90's, having started to phase out a lot of public outings or trips anywhere large enough to care about the changing media landscape in his late twenties. Was just easier to keep to himself than to have people get close enough to start questioning shit.

"Most of us started as human," Daryl said in way of agreement, "Those that didn't... well, blood still got mixed along the way."

"Most of us," she agrees a little wryly. "If there's one thing we all do well, it's that."

"Most of us," he repeated under his breath as he slowed to a stop. They'd reached about as far upstream as they could without completely going under the cover of trees. The ground was still too flooded, even with all the roots helping direct the stream on it's way.

But they what they didn't have in dry ground they made up for in perfectly good branches. Daryl moved over to one in a less-muddy area and started to climb, "This'un's got a decent view about half-way up. Lightning probably struck it a few years ago, tore open a hole in the boughs and left a couple large broken branches we can sit on. Not as comfortable as the ground, but not bad, neither."

About ten feet up he turned and looked down at her, suddenly remembering she wasn't part cat, even if she was damn near as graceful as one, "You need any help climbing?"

"Don't worry about me. I can handle this much." There's something sweet about the fact he worried, and at the same time something that makes her feel her age and experience. It's the humor that comes through in her voice, though.

Then she's jumping up to catch one of the lower branches, and if she's not quite as graceful as a cat or doesn't take quite as naturally to climbing as he does, she still pulls herself up with the strength and confidence of a gymnast or a rock climber. Once she's pulled herself up to one sturdy branch, it's not much of a challenge to find another, moving higher until she finds a seat she likes and straddles the bough just above the lightning fork.

"Getting down is the really easy part though."

For all that he could have pulled claws out to make the climb easier, Daryl kept himself mostly human. It'd be too tempting to just go all the way and settle into his usual sleeping spot. The spot which... she... took... It was the larger of the branches and the most comfortable. And he'd moved to the side so she had room to get comfortable before he settled himself, so it was his own fault, really.

He gets himself into another a little higher up. It wasn't quite as nice, but it would do. Let him relax back, one knee propped up where he could rest his arm across it. The other leg hanging down next to her.

Daryl chuffed at her humor, giving his own light chuckle in his throat, "That mean you always land on your feet, too?"

Natasha leans forward, her hands braced on a gall in the branch. She smiles, snorting faintly. "You could say that. At least better than most people do."

It has kept her alive this long. It had landed her in London.

"I think you have to be in this world, if you want to keep going. The falls are going to happen. Either you figure out how to take them or eventually you don't get back up." She doesn't sound particularly cynical saying it. She doesn't consider it pessimistic. That's just life.

He'd been speaking a lot less metaphorically than she was, but he could roll with it. Daryl let out a soft 'mmm' of agreement, letting his eyes wander across the star-lit field, the lights of London a glow on the horizon.

"We got about 45 minutes to enjoy the sights before we gotta hoof it back," he murmured, relaxing into his perch and otherwise falling silent. Content to let the quiet of the night surround them for now.

"Forty-five minutes, huh?" She shifts her seat a little, making herself a little more comfortable as she looks up at the sky, framed by branches and leaves. She nods. She doesn't mind if he doesn't want to force more conversation. She's kind of impressed by how much she's got out of him as it is.

She's willing to see if they can be comfortably silent together. Plus, it's nice to really get to listen to the sounds of the night. This kind of deep night, there's not too much moving around, but there's still soft, quiet sounds of life that you don't get in the city.

For his part, Daryl found the silence very comfortable once she stopped moving around too much. The crickets and other insects that had gone quiet with their shuffling started their decidedly not soft singing. In the distance there was the occasional quiet hum of an engine on an unseen but nearby road. Next to his ear, though, was some grasshopper playing it's legs nice and loud to a chorus of echoing chirps from further afield. It wasn't the kind of noise one found in the city, the difference he'd tried to explain at the dating event.

But it was also a noise Daryl could easily tune out or shift to the back of his thoughts. Something to worry about only if it ended or changed.

Normally he'd let himself fall asleep, but with her there, he needed to stay awake. He was going to have a hell of a day come morning. Left him wondering if it'd be okay to ask for someone else to cover his shift so he could catch up on a few hours of sleep.

It might not be as good as a nap, but for a good half an hour or so, Natasha sits quietly and watches the stars, letting her mind wander—or not. For the first time in at least two months, she stops planning and running angles in the back of her head.

Who knew crickets were the secret to that?

It's only when her internal clock starts to say they should get moving back to the city that she swings her leg over the branch and turns her attention from the sky to the ground. She puts on a casual face, but she'd really prefer not have to spend the day at Daryl's place or in a hotel closet.

"You didn't even get a nap, did you?"

He leaned forward with a simple, "Nope." Then, using his hands as leverage, hopped into a squatting position, his human body doing it's best to imitate a cat pulling itself up before getting ready to pounce. It might not look that graceful in his current state, but he was more than ready for the jump.

Daryl landed on his feet, as all good cats should, not even a grunt given for the effort. When he straightened himself, he turned to look back up and call out, "You good?"

Natasha pushes herself off the branch, dropping rather than jumping and landing with a different kind of grace than an animal would show. Something a little less natural. She catches herself, almost immediately walking a step or two in his direction.

"I'm good. You don't have to worry about me."

Daryl has to resist the urge to extend his hand towards her, but he doesn't quite manage to keep his arm from lifting. He cuts the action short by lifting it towards his head to make a quick run through his hair before leading the way back to the bike.

"So uh... hope it was okay," he said, nerves coming back now that the night was 'over'. The ride back to the bar didn't really count as an ending and he figured as close as they were cutting it to sunrise - even if she should have close to an hour to get wherever she was going - she wouldn't want to linger once he did drop her off. "I mean, that you had fun."

Natasha notices the abortive gesture and her lips twitch toward a smile. She won't draw attention to it if he's uncomfortable though. She slips her hands in her pockets again, following him with an easy gate.

"I did. It was fun," she tells him reassuringly. "It's nice to just get out for a while. Clear my head."

After a pause then, she adds, "I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime, if you can afford to miss the sleep."

The way his head lifted was just like a cat perking up with interest. All he needed was the ears, really. Though he did press his lips together, it was very much with a suddenly pleased air and not at all with apprehension. He gave a nod, "I can that. This."

Only a couple years ago he'd had a much more aggressively strange sleep cycle. It wasn't that he couldn't deal with lack of proper sleep here and there, it was that he no longer had to. But it was nice of her to ask.

"You want me to call you again, or you wanna pick the day?"

Edited 2016-04-27 16:26 (UTC)

"How about you give me a call again?" she says. Somehow, it seems fitting to let a cat come to her, at least at this point. He still strikes her as pretty skittish, and she doesn't lose much by letting him have that much control.

Besides, she can always change her mind if he never gets back to her.

"Okay," Daryl answered, keeping it simple. She wanted him to call again. She'd liked spending time with him and wanted him to ask her along again sometime. His shoulders squared away, confidence boosted quite a bit at that.

The ride back was otherwise quiet and they arrived with plenty of time to spare, Daryl dropping her back at The Duchess before heading back to his place. The goodbye he gave her there was simple as well. Just a 'Have a good day' and 'Thanks for comin' along' in that quiet tone of his.

And if he walked with a bit more of a swagger at work that day, well, he felt he deserved it for having a successful outing with someone that wasn't arranged for him.

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A Midnight Ride [Closed]

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