undergrounds | waves that swallow quick and deep

"Should we..." There was something to be said for Jean-Claude not knowing about their support. It gave him more plausible deniability and avoided some potential for the appearance of conspiracy.

On the other hand, if they spoke to him, made him a real ally, then they could access his resources. And, with any luck, they would be able to rely on him to return the favor.

"You're right. At least one of us should bring up the subject."

"I'll float an idea by him, see if I can get a read." She knew him better than Natasha at this point, at any rate. "I won't come out-right and say it. But the best conspiracies are those when not all the players know their parts."

So see what he thought about the idea. If he was at all eager... She supposed they'd have to make the call.

"I was hoping to see him shortly, at any rate."

He does, and yet somehow he also feels he doesn't. He knows Nancy has sympathy in her heart, yet also viciousness. He knows she dislikes Sylvia Redbright, and Daybreak, but he also doesn't know how far she'd go.

Taking down the number he makes note of the others she mentions -- doorman, she says? Who is this witch, rich enough to have a doorman? How did they become friends with Nancy?

"We do have something that places you within Norrell's house," he offers, and he keeps his eyes down as he says it. Focusing on writing, collecting himself enough that when he lifts his eyes again his voice is still even. Even as his eyes beg her to pay careful attention to what he's saying. "Within his library, specifically. Have you been there before?"

If Lance digs, he'll find all the information he needs to prove Nancy's innocence. Larkin knows the story backwards and forwards- Both women were Midnight supporters, and Larkin had Nancy over for a glass or twelve of wine, thinking she should have a girls' night. Easy.

"...What...?" Her mouth is dry as she looks at Lance, her lower lip jutting out in disbelief. She thought she'd been careful. How could they place her there? But it didn't matter, because she had a chance to explain herself.

"Yeah- I have, actually. Norrell had Childermass solicit me." She doesn't need to tell him about Norrell's true reason to have her there. What's wrong with a little mud-raking now that the man was gone? Nancy looks away, hunching her shoulders like she's ashamed of it.

"You two have a date?" Natasha says it as a joke, without any particular sign that she means it. Her lips curl a little as she says it, teasing.

"I hope you're not in a rush to leave, are you? I was enjoying the drink."

Evie looks at Natasha incredulously for a moment. Did she seriously just- her and JC- she didn't know if she should be offended or complemented or- wait. She isn't even serious and Evie realizes it a bash too late and her freckled completion breaks into a smile. It's only a second before she laughs, too, shaking her head.

"No, it's not a date, I wanted to see how he's getting on with his new secretary, but ," she waved the thought away, another dry joke.

"No, I'm not in a rush tonight, and if you can make me laugh like that again, it's more than worth staying."

"Both," he replies, squirming around a little as he feels the tip of her nose on his skin. Had he been watching anyone else making the same display, he would have commented on it as being sickeningly cute. But when it's actually happening to him, it's a different story.

"I know." He gives her a long kiss on the lips. He doesn't know how long this will last between them. Cooper can only hope it will last a long, long time.

"We'll have to see what I can do." The response is smooth and light, the look Natasha gives amused. The coffee must have helped, or perhaps the subject matter because she doesn't look the least bit tired anymore.

Her expression falls slightly after she says it, though. "I suppose he's had to change his staff up some since Kenzi left. Is his new secretary anyone special?"

She likes the way he squirms. It's cute, proof he's let her under his skin.

Nancy kisses him back, but only for a moment before she pulls back. "Hurry up and eat then, you. So we can make this day and night one of the best for both of us." But she'll kiss him one last time. how ever long he wants to spend on his sandwich, she's more than happy to be by his side.

With the thought of a motorcycle ride in his head, Cooper finishes off his sandwich and wine at a leisurely pace. When he's done, he stands up.

"Right then. You'll be needin' a helmet." For himself, Cooper would only be wearing a pair of goggles. Vampires were made of sturdy stuff and wiping out wouldn't do too much harm to him. Nancy, on the other hand, he'd risk no harm coming to her.

"Do I?" She gave him a smile as she packed up their belongings.

"I may have learned a localized protection spell." She taps her head. "So we should be fine." The picnic basket shrinks down till its small enough to fit in her purse. Damn she loves magic. "Unless you're planing on trying to have me killed tonight." He would never.

Edited 2016-08-06 00:23 (UTC)

"Just consider it an extra layer of protection. Or look at it as a way t'keep your hair from getting ruined." Magic or not, he wasn't going to be taking any chances with his rather breakable, human girlfriend.

The V7 Stone is a lovely little bike, gleaming black and perfectly built for a nice ride. It seems that everything has come full circle, from almost running over Nancy at their first meeting to now dating her.

"Thank you, love," she tells him with a kiss in the cheek. She liked the way he looked out for her.

The bike is gorgeous, if you're into that sort of thing and Nancy can tell how much care of it Cooper takes. Like so many other things. "now I've never actually been on one of these things," she confesses. "Just nearly run over." She squeezes his hand to show she still has no hard feelings over it.

Cooper can be a total slob and careless regarding most things in his life. When it comes to the things he cares about, they look the best they can be. The motorcycle is shiny and has had so beautiful customization done to him.

Cooper swings a leg over the bike and sits down, patting a spot behind him. "It's simple. Just hold onto me tight 'n nothing will happen to you." See, this is why motorcycles are romantic. He can have his sweetheart pressed up nice and close to him for a long ride through the city.

Nancy, meanwhile, is good with her things. She tries to keep her home neat, because she respects the money that went into every single item in her house. She was lucky that she was often gifted fine gowns and jewelry from some of her wealthier clients, but she was not a wealthy woman by any means. She simply had a lot of friends in high places. If you looked close at nearly anything she wears, it's cheap fabric, a plastic gem. But something like his bike? She'd take even better care of it than anything else, and can respect how much he must care.

With a small smile, she steps forward, and straddles the bike. "Alright- I'm trusting you, Cooper." She wrapped her arms around his waist. Her lips are pressed up against his cheek. "Show me your favorite spots."

Solicit her? Lancelot's eyebrows shoot up at the statement, then furrow into a frown of confusion.

"Solicit you for..." he prompts, trying to establish if he has misunderstood in some way. Gilbert Norrell hadn't exactly struck him as the type to hire a prostitute, certainly not one of Nancy's type, but then again he could very well be wrong. He hadn't known the man personally at all, not spoken with him outside of public engagements.

Although the very idea makes him feel faintly ill.

Nancy was the only remaining one who had been in the room, who had been in that limo. She nodded, pressing her lips together like she wasn't proud of herself. She should have felt bad. But she really didn't. There was no reason to.

"I refused." Because she still had some amount of pride. "He wanted his manservant to watch."

"I don't think so- Kenzi at least was his progeny. Poor girl." She shook her head- she'd heard about the rehab situation. She was fond of Kenzi, oddly. Even if she had driven her up a wall.

"Wasn't a particularly great great secretary, mind you."

He wanted--

Lancelot grimaces slightly, making a note of this regardless.

"When was this?" he prompts, trying to remain professional despite the ill feeling welling up all over again. If it is to be her reason why there is evidence she was there, after all, he'll need to confirm that too.

She presses her lips together, counting back. "A bit ago- I'm sure if you needed it, I could get you a more precise date. It's just not something I like to think about." Which was, for the record, completely true.

All the same, she shivers. "Just- the nerve of him, actively oppressing us and turning around and trying to pay me- I told him I may be a whore, but I have standards. Can- can I ask, Lance, what the evidence against me is?" Give her an opportunity to explain it. Whatever it is, she's sure she can spin it.

"As long as I don't have to be responsible for him." He manages to make it sound as though Arthur's the one most likely to cause a problem, though he's not exactly a fan of vampires either.

this gets a chuckle out of Nancy. "I think Arthur's a big boy, he can take care of himself."

"Poor girl," Natasha echoes. She'd tried to help Kenzi out—not because she thought Jean-Claude was lacking, but because she felt like the girl could use the extra support. Natasha herself had been a very bloodthirsty newborn once.

"Hopefully things work out for her."

"I certainly hope so. We can all relate, after all." She can remember the awful first years of vampirism.

"I could have hoped for better for her. I'd say her sire gave her a head start." Even now, Natasha can't be bitter toward her maker for allowing her to be a killer; she'd been chosen because she was a killer, it was part of what he'd seen in her. But it did mean he'd only valued self-control so far as it prevented her from blowing her covers.

waves that swallow quick and deep

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