undergrounds | in the company of strangers

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in the company of strangers

Kyle had been away for too long, first following Alex and then focusing on his own leads to try to find an old commanding officer. The hunt was futile, leaving him feeling played and used all at once. With Alex out of touch in her search and too many dead ends, the former soldier finally returned to London, feeling a bit reckless and angry while simultaneously eager to connect with recent friends.

A; I CAN'T SEE STRAIGHT ANYMORE (DRINKING)
Generally, as a rule, Kyle made a deliberate effort to avoid getting drunk. With his training and issues, it was a recipe for disaster and he was a responsible enough person to choose not to engage in such an unnecessary risk. Generally. Right now, he felt like shit and had very few responsibilities to worry about.

Which was why he was wandering casually from pub to pub, from early afternoon to late in the evening, having a beer here and a whiskey there. Mostly beer. He wanted to ride the buzz, to sit in his temporary angst like a cliche, 20-something American and make bad choices. Be the stereotype of the loud tourist for once, instead of always trying to defy expectations. He sat at the bar, ordered another beer, let his gaze slip past the wood grain of the counter back into his own mind to block things out. Here, he was just another guy drinking in London. No supernatural bullshit involved. Until, of course, it was.

B; GONNA HIT THIS CITY (HUNTING)
After and in between his bouts of reckless drinking, Kyle opted for another form of reckless behavior: hunting. He was a soldier, not a hunter, as he had explained to at least a dozen people in the last year. Yeah, he killed vampires, but that was the mission. He didn't go looking for the supernatural. Except that now he was. He was bored and angry, with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove, stalking the night and trying to find more vampires, werewolves, witches, whatever. He might not actually attack them, might only get to know them. As a human, it was all dangerous. But it was fun too.

C; WELCOME TO MY HOUSE (AT HOME)
Kyle's plans to move in with Alex were nixed before they started and his invitation to Nancy didn't fair much better. Which meant he returned from Germany to an empty apartment, barely furnished, with the unfulfilled potential of something now lost to time. He dropped his keys on the counter and leaned back against it, staring out at the window. The rumbling of his stomach reminded him how empty his fridge was and he immediately left again for the corner store, to grab some basic groceries and return to cook up a simple meal. Maybe a few drinks too.

[OOC: Feel free to bump into him on his way to the store or, for existing CR, to know or have found out where he lives.]

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Kyle laughs. It suits her. Despite knowing almost nothing about her, it's clear she forges her own path and doesn't have much time for peoples' bullshit. Her being a dancer in her former life is more surprising than her desire to get a motorcycle.

"You should. I can definitely see it." Kyle prefers public transit and running. Or a humvee, though probably not on the streets of London. There's something about a train and the Underground that calms him though. Even with the bombings and cage-like feel. "Let me know when you do and I'll hitch a ride."

A pause. "In the meantime, I think we should sign you up for dance lessons. Zumba? Belly dance? Pole dancing?" He exaggerates a sensual tone with the teasing.

"You think I'd need classes to work a pole?" She says it teasing, giving back what she gets. If he wants to tease that way, he'll have to deal with it. She's not one to be ashamed—of all the things she has to be ashamed of, some flirting is the lowest on the list.

"It used to be ballet. Maybe I should try something new, though."

"I think.. you can do anything you put your mind to," he cops out with a laugh. The casual teasing is nice. It feels comfortable, even if it shouldn't. Kyle shrugs with a crooked grin, wondering what could happen between them in another life.

"Ballet, huh? That's cool."

In another life, Natasha would be a very old woman. Or more likely, dead. But she enjoys the banter even with all it's weird undertones and the bittersweet teasing.

Dealing with Kyle always reminds her there is someone actually rooting for her to stay clean.

"Why don't I think you're a fan of the ballet?"

"I'm not knocking on ballerinas. Some of the stuff they can do is really cool. The precision and the dedication is up there with the army. Except, instead of fighting for the country's freedom, they're putting on a slow and confusing show to entertain a bunch of snobby rich people. That's not really their fault though." He shrugs. Okay, so maybe he's not the biggest fan of ballet, but that's different than ballerinas. Most of the time, they don't even get a choice about whether they want to go into ballet or not. Like privates in the army.

"Slow and confusing, hm." She decides to focus on that rather than the other details, things that could be more controversial if she addressed them. Dig up old politics that she didn't care to touch on, or personal history that was even worse.

"What about you? You have any hobbies? I figure at least we have drinking in common."

"Yeah. You ever seen the Nutcracker?" He chuckles again. It occurs to him that Natasha may have performed in the show sometime in her past, but she must know what it's like. He's a dumb jock and she's a ballerina. There's going to be some differences there.

"I used to build cars," he offers, in exchange for her admission of dancing. "I haven't for awhile though.. I watch sports. I cook. I like exploring the city, I run, and I play a mean game of Unreal or Halo."

They're not the most original hobbies. The more he thinks about them, the more he realizes how cliche they all sounds, outside of cooking maybe, but he can't help it. It's been a long time in his life since he had the free time and opportunity to develop new hobbies.

"Maybe I'll pick up dancing."

"Oh yeah?" she says smoothly, turning his earlier question around. "Poll?"

He has that one coming.

Her tone is friendly, though, still warm, still welcoming. Natasha doesn't leave it at the joke. "Cooking, though. I'm curious about that. You always struck me as a meat and potatoes type of guy."

Very American in that way.

"Maybe," he gives right back. "I bet I'd look damn good in those booty shorts."

Kyle shrugs, as if it's an actual consideration, even though it's not. He doesn't mind the idea of it, but it's not something he'll ever actually do unless forced. And what happens in the army stays in the army.

At the latter, he laughs again. "I am. I like meat and potatoes. But I like other things too and I like being able to cook my own food. I'm not great. I don't go crazy with the spices and probably can't cook anything with a french name. But a good omelette or spaghetti? I'm your man."

He pauses, then asks almost earnestly, "Do you eat? Human food. Not humans as food, but human food."

There's a brief hesitation before she answers, "I—can."

There's a little wince in her tone as she says it, implying what she admits next. "I don't get as much out of it as I used to, but I can still enjoy it, and sometimes it helps the cravings. Though I still drink more than I eat."

She shrugs then, trying to lighten the mood and redirect the conversation a little. "But who can't enjoy a good steak?"

"Vegans," he answers without missing a beat, happy to play along. "But they're crazy anyway."

Kyle's quiet for a moment as he considers that. He very nearly invites her over for dinner until he remembers what she is, and if he wants her able to come and go from his place freely. Of course, he also invited her to use it as a safe house, so maybe he's already thrown that out the window. Asking her to dinner elsewhere sounds too much like a date for his comfort level, so he ends up trapped in his own convoluted mind for a moment before deciding it's too much work to over think it all.

"You should come over for dinner sometime. I'll make steaks and you can raid my liquor cabinet." Not that he has much at the moment, but it's the gesture that counts.

The pause isn't lost on Natasha, and its cause isn't a mystery. Kyle's ambivalence toward her has been clear; clear enough that she occasionally wonders if they would be better off avoiding each other rather than playing these games.

She doesn't want to stop though. In some ways his attitude mirrors her own more than anyone else's has. Hard to escape the feeling she's earned his suspicion and contempt. And yet, he flirts with her, and has offered support. She hasn't had much of that.

"I'd like to, sometime," she says. "I could stand to get out more."

He's had similar thoughts himself, wondering why he likes her more than he hates her and wondering if he can support and help her enough to keep her clean. Natasha's attractive, charming, and witty, and the ease with which they're able to banter certainly makes it easier for him to forget what she is.

"Add it on to your dance classes and new hobby," he chuckles, bringing the conversation back around. Then, spontaneously, "You have a boyfriend?"

Now there's a question that surprises a laugh out of her. It's not exactly an enthusiastic laugh, but it's very real. She wasn't expecting him to ask that, and the idea that she could have something as normal as a boyfriend is... almost flattering, really.

"No," she admits, a little warmth in her voice. "No, I haven't had a boyfriend in a long time. Why, you know someone interested in an older woman with a questionable past?"

"There are always guys interested in older women with questionable pasts." Smoothest deflection ever, delivered with a sly smile. Kyle's still too hung up on Alex to really think of dating anyone else in general, let alone an older vampire. At least the two women were about equally complicated, or so he would guess. He's interested in knowing her better though, even if it's something that won't exactly be relevant to him. "How long's it been?"

"Depends what you consider a boyfriend. A friend who I had some fun with? A few years. On the other hand, if you're picturing commitment, holding hands, gazing adoringly into each other's eyes..." Well, in that case, Natasha might not be much of the type of girl who had boyfriends. Or she hadn't been for a long time. "I'd be surprised if you were alive yet."

Kyle glances over with vague surprise. It's not so much that he expected to have a boyfriend, necessarily, but the idea that she hasn't had one since before he was born is both worrying and disconcerting. He pauses a moment, not entirely sure he wants to know the answer to his next question as his gaze shifts forward again. "How old are you?"

She's good at making him uncomfortable, isn't she? That is what she is though. Natasha doesn't think pretending to be something else, easy as it would be, habitual as it would be, would improve their relationship all that much.

So she tells him.

"I'll be seventy-eight in November." Her gaze stays straight ahead. "I was turned in sixty-four."

"You weren't kidding about the old part," he quips. It's always so much easier to stay humorous than it is to take anything too seriously. This is why they get along so well, or so he likes to think. They're both fairly honest with each other, keep things light, and try not to push the other. Although, admittedly, he might do a little more pushing than she does.

"Do you miss it?" So much for staying light and fluffy.

"What, dating?" She arches an eyebrow, and her voice does stay light. They both know that as vampires go, she's not all that old at all. In a way that might make it stranger, though. She's not two or three hundred; she's probably around his grandmother's age.

Joking is a better way to work through this now. "Sometimes. Don't know if I'm really the kind of girl people date though, especially these days. Seems a little immature."

She tilts her head, though, conceding, "On the other hand, easier to bully your boyfriend into a backrub than a hookup."

"Being human," he clarifies. "Do you miss being human?"

But he's not about to let the juicy details go completely amiss. He doesn't care if she's forty or four hundred -- in this context at least --, the idea of dating being immature is ridiculous. "My grandmother dated when she was sixty. After my grandfather died. She was seeing like three guys at once, until one clicked. And she looked sixty. You have no excuse."

Except being a vampire, of course, but that was always implied. "You're the kind of girl people date, Natasha. I don't know if you're the kind of girl to date."

Natasha can't argue that, though it seems like a bit of both to her. People didn't exactly bring killers home to meet mom.

Instead she says, "I think I'd like your grandmother."

The other question is a little more complicated. Perhaps it's that complexity that keeps her from trying to dodge it again. "I don't miss when I was human," she says, treading a very narrow semantic distinction. The fact Natasha has guesses toward Alex's background even if the girl never confirmed them encourage her to speak more. "I grew up in Soviet orphanages and boarding schools, ward of the state. I didn't have a lot of choices when I was human, and I didn't get a choice when I was changed. I don't miss that, and I don't miss the person I was back then. I think... I regret that I never got more of a chance at it."

But that possibility had flown fifty years ago, and she wasn't going to dwell on it.

She's prepared for him to find a joke in there, or something to chide her over. That she'd had a chance and wasted it letting herself be give to vampires. He's not wrong, either, if he wants to make that argument. It's just not going to change anything.

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