undergrounds | waves that swallow quick and deep

Gee, thanks. She sits back in the couch and briefly crosses her arms like the grumpy teenager she is. You're really bad at being a dad, Eames. So bad.

So she'll finish her glass of wine. "More wine?"

"Always."

Oh, he was supposed to ask, wasn't he. Eames looks down at Juliet, but the cat has nothing to offer to this situation and he sighs, "so, this Cooper. Who is he?"

She fills the glass for him.

"He's the Earl of Holloway." So he was a vampire. with some power to his name. "We've known each other for over a year now, and somehow he developed feelings for me." She shrugs it off. "He's wonderful- short, blond, Irish. Real good heart and cares about me." And that made her happy. Obviously.

"He used to be a client." If that answers the question he's bound to ask. "Just blood, though." which changed things, somehow.

"Earl of Holloway." Eames leans forward to put his glass down for fear of breaking it and nods his head slowly. It's like she's gone and made one of the worst decisions humanly possible.

"That's..." Dumb? Foolish? Going to end badly? He frowns, looking for the best thing to say. "I see."

She won't tell him about the man-sized dent in the wall, then.

"what?" Nancy challenges him. It's clear he isn't happy for her. "I'm allowed to date people."

"Dating people isn't the issue." As much as he'd question if it's wise with her work, if they can handle it then great.

This, on the other hand? He shakes his head.

"Then what is?" because clearly there was one if he used the term "the issue."

"I know you don't like vampires, but he's nothing if not kind to me." and once or twice, frightening.

"Oh, of course he's kind." And it takes a lot for him not to wrinkle his nose in distaste at the word. If that's all that mattered then there'd probably be significantly less trouble around. "He's also hardwired to see you as food before he sees a person."

She gave him a look. "I'm far more than that to him, I promise you." so he got a free, willing meal now. "But he does love me. As a person- not like his favorite cut of steak."

There's so, so much more he wants to say, but he can already see there's no point. It's disappointing — he'd thought she was smarter than this — but she's young and she's human. Pretty much the two worst traits a person can have when it comes to decision making.

"Well I'd question if it's smart to persue a relationship with a client, but I guess if he's so kind then it doesn't matter."

Nancy's eyes narrow and she crosses her arms. Oh okay then.

"Well he's not a client now, is he?" They'd become friends, too, in the middle of their working relationship. Which she should probably clarify. "And he was a friend, too." Which had made things complicated. And here they were now.

"As for his kindness, do you know how many people in my life are kind to me on a regular basis?" She could count them on one hand. "he's a good person." He wasn't a person.

Edited (wow I forgot I had other words.) 2016-07-20 22:41 (UTC)

Honestly, he doesn't hear anything after she calls him a friend, barking a laugh almost in disbelief. Of course, of course.

"You know what? Never mind." Eames waves a dismissive hand, not wanting to talk about this anymore, "I can tell nothing I say is going to make you realise what a fucking awful decision this is."

And fundamentally it's her own life to fuck up. They can share a nice bottle of 'I told you so' when it all turns to shit.

That laugh! What the hell does that even mean, she wants to know, and she sets her glass down, fully prepared for a fight. She can go toe to toe with the best of them when it came to verbal smack-downs. And she was prepared to do it over Cooper.

But then he's dismissing the whole thing and you know what? That's even worse. Standing, keeping her arms crossed, Nancy juts her jaw forward slightly. "You know what? It may be a fucking awful decision, but it's still my decision to make." Her decision, and one of the few she was able to make in her life.

"Well then, have at it." He's not her keeper, Eames can tell her his opinions in great detail, but he can't make her do anything. What the hell other reaction was she expecting from him? A song and a dance and 'congratulations on your immortal leech'?

He's suddenly reminded of why he's never wanted children.

Eames sighs, shaking his head as he reaches to retrieve his glass, "forget I said anything."

"I will!" Of course she wanted a song and dance number, who do you think you were talking to, Eames? But her words, coupled with a stamp of her foot, and Nancy's not sure she's ever been more of a teenager in her life.

But this time, when Eames dismisses it, Nancy's a bit more ready. She takes a moment, breathes, and sits back down, going for her own wine. "I just really like him, is all," she says, as though that excuses her from being a rational human.

Eames sighs heavily, there's quite the handful of things he wants to say-- a couple that make him concerned about this whole 'caring about people' thing he's started doing unintentionally, but none of it would be any use so.

He takes a sip of his wine, "fine." It's not like he's about to tie her in his basement and tell her who she can and can't be with. For starters he doesn't even have a basement. His inability to lie makes it kinda hard to say he's happy for her or anything of the sort though.

No, he wasn't happy at all- practically radiating it. The sensation, Nancy realized, was incredibly odd. Few people seemed like they would really actually care about her dating someone the way Eames did. God knew Fagin wouldn't give much of a damn.

Not that she had any intentions of telling him any time soon. Possibly ever.

"Here," she says, looking for a change of subject. "Help me with the necklace? I want to see what it looks like on."

Oh, good. A change of topic. Eames nods and turns toward Nancy, patting the space on the sofa between them for her to move closer. "Come here, turn your back to me."

"Of course." She moved in so she was next to him and turned. Carefully, she slid her hand behind her neck and piled her sizable red hair on top of her head so he had free access to the well-bitten skin. She was at home, she had no need for glamours.

"I'm inviting you, by the way, to a dinner in a few weeks. A human friend wants me to move in with him, and I'd like him to meet my friends, before it gets to that." So maybe he can let her have them in the apartment. "There'll be plenty to drink."

"A human friend," Eames echoes as he takes the chain and lifts it around her neck, gentle and quick as he does up the clasp and adjusts it ever so to sit central on her chest. "Is he in the know?"

"He is." She drops her hair and turns around, showing off the necklace for him. "I met him when that underground club was attacked." And then he was bitten by a werewolf.

"Which is precisely why I'm having him meet some of my friends. He's not exactly..." She struggles for a word, and finally settles on it: "He's American." And doesn't trust vampires or fae.

"How does it look?"

Amazing, the thing that gets him to wrinkle his nose in distaste is the word 'American.' Not that he has anything in particular against them, there's just something about them that only ever grates on him when he's actually in England himself.

Still. Not a vampire, so it could be a lot worse.

He smiles at when she asks about the necklace though, and brushes a lock of hair forward to frame the pendant. "It's beautiful."

"So he's a lot-less... tolerant," she supposed was a good way to describe it. She's not going to explain she managed to lift his werewolf curse, because that's private. But he's really cute, and looks great without a shirt.

Nancy looks down, then back up again, blushing. She's got a boyfriend, but Eames is still complementing her. Or is he complementing the necklace? She's not sure. "You did really well. I absolutely love them, you know."

"I know." The compliment is for both, of course. Eames has never been one to shy away from telling people that they're goegeous, and the jewellery is beautiful. And suits her better than he'd assumed it would.

But enough about his great taste. ¤So, your friend..." What's the most polite way to ask if someone's a huge asshole? "I take it he doesn't get along so well with the... Magically inclined?"

"I don't know how he feels exactly about fae." She wouldn't call him an asshole. "And he understands what I do for a living. But there's a part of it he isn't too fond of, and the clients that come with it." So, yeah, he hated vampires.

"Last I heard, his girlfriend was a werewolf, so there's that."

waves that swallow quick and deep

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