undergrounds | HOUNSLOW TERRITORY CLAIM

"Busy's one way of putting it," he agreed in the most general of senses. A slightly forced half smile turned up the edges of his lips. He was fighting with himself to not be a dour asshole. It wasn't like Natasha was one of the vampires that had done what they had to him. She probably didn't know anything about it.

"Nice to see you, too. Redbright got you busy?"

She doesn't. While she's tried to keep on top of what's been happening, her attention has largely been on Harris and a few other key targets. She hadn't been tracking Daryl, of course. That would have seemed like an invasion of privacy. Now, she takes the hint that she missed something important though. Important and probably relevant.

"Yeah. I've had a lot of work. A lot to keep on top of." She smiles a little, ginger but testing. "No time for nighttime rides. Which is a shame, because they'd be a lot more fun than what I've been up to."

Daryl stopped trying to force the smile and dropped his head, "Ain't been on much of those myself."

He'd gotten out of the city only a couple times since he'd been pulled out of that hell hole and neither time had been at night. He'd stayed around other people or at home for the most part until he decided to start hunting in the Nest. The reaction hadn't been intentional. He hadn't meant to look afraid to go out and live his life normally. It'd just happened and it was only when he realized it was happening that he forced himself to stop. To take up arms. To fight back and stop acting like he was some chickenshit sacred of his own shadow.

"Need to find the time again."

"Well if you do, give me a call," Natasha says. Her tone isn't pushy or demanding, more inviting—she has the feeling Daryl would convince himself not to if she gave him an out.

"I think after this is over we could all use some fresh air."

"Yeah. I'd like that," he admitted quietly before lifting his head and watching the road she was leading them down. Went silent again. Coffee first, then try to figure out what else to say.

Natasha doesn't force Daryl into more conversation, content for the moment to walk side by side down the street, the quiet companionable. Skittish and he can be, she can't shake the feeling she needs to get him comfortable with her again.

The coffee shop isn't far off, mostly full of students working on various papers and projects. "What do you take?" she asks, only once they're inside.

"Black," he said. There was a pause and he lifted a hand to his mouth as he coughed out "half-cream" into it. He'd always had to sneak that much creamer into his coffee back in Georgia, growing up, if he wanted to be able to stand it. But the rest of his family had drunk it black, so he'd gotten used to ordering it that way, too. The manner of requesting how he actually preferred it was mostly reflex. Still something he was trying to train himself out of.

His eyes flicked from the ground to meet hers and a genuine smile of shy embarrassment twisted his lips upward before he could duck his head. He cleared his throat and said in a louder voice, trying to own his preferences, "Half-cream. No sugar."

Natasha didn't laugh at that, but she couldn't hide a smile. It was in keeping with what she's seen of him so far, the gruffness protecting someone more sensitive underneath. It isn't that she doesn't think he's tough or resilient enough, but there's something somehow charming about the act if hiding.

Maybe that said something about her.

She'll order for both of them, the coffee half cream no sugar for him, and an Americano for herself, an she pays for both of them, getting their coffees to go.

Daryl accepts the coffee, forgoing the 'you didn't have to pay' platitude and instead skipping straight to the, "Thanks." He figures if she didn't want to pay or didn't feel she should, she'd have said something.

The first sip is taken while it's still really too hot to drink it and he doesn't wince at all. Lid off so he could get as much as possible in the short take. The creamer was already doing it's job in cooling it fast and making it palatable.

"Mmmm," he breathed out, savoring the taste before slowly licking his upper lip to clean what little had settled there. "I think I'm gonna have to make this walk a regular thing. Patrolling, a'course."

Daryl didn't try to hide the sly, joking smile.

Putting his face on Hillingdon, of all the people she knows in that faction, is probably among the most comforting way it could have been framed for Natasha. While her experiences with the hunters and shapeshifters there have not by and large been unpleasant. More good than bad, even.

But Daryl does strike her as the most genuine, even when he was awkward.

Maybe especially then.

She returns his smile, equally sly. "Of course. Patrolling." She lifts her chin a little, arch as she continues. "It's a pretty nice area to patrol. Especially with company."

"Only if the company's good." Daryl glanced sideways at her again, smile getting just smidge bigger. He ducked his head and chanced a light elbow into her arm before sobering up and looking at her again. The company was good tonight.

Instead of saying that aloud, though, he just looked at her and took another, longer, sip of his coffee.

It's all right, Daryl. Natasha can read between the lines. She smiles behind her coffee cup, amused by his coyness. She'll let him have it. He's a cat, after all. Natasha's heard you have to let cats come to you, after all.

"I'll show you my route," she says instead. "But let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see."

Daryl fell silent in that way he did, following along and nodding or grunting when she made a comment about something or other. He'd remember it fine even if he didn't give much weight to all of it right then and there.

After a while, though, he got real curious and eventually asked, "You live around here?" Tried to make it sound casual and off-handed.

His attempt to sound casual might have failed, but it does get a smile out of Natasha. The fact he tried, even if it doesn't come off as easily as he might have intended, is worth plenty on its own.

"Depends on what you mean by around here," she says, gently teasing. "Not too far. Why? Did you want to go back to my place?"

Daryl went completely still. That wasn't the direction he'd been going with his thoughts. It was certainly a safe assumption for most people to make. He really shouldn't have been surprised she'd gone that way with it. But it took him a moment to process the question and the way she'd said it. Was she joking or was she serious? And if she was serious, what was she trying to imply with that tone? It was friendly, right? Maybe it was because he'd offered to let her stay at his place. Maybe it was a return on that favor.

Okay, that made sense.

He tried to cover his stillness by forcing himself to move a second later and suck down the rest of his coffee. Ended up coughing a little as he crumpled the cup and found a basket to toss it into. He gave a small shrug to try and play off the nervousness he was sure was obvious to her at that point, "Could walk you home if you want." It wasn't a yes or a no, but it left it open to her inviting him back if she decided she wanted to.

"You could, if you wanted," Natasha says, shaking her head a little. "After we finish our rounds at least. We still have a lot of ground to cover though. We can figure out how we want to handle that then."

She gives him an amused look, the earlier awkwardness passing as she remembers his skittishness&mdsdh;that, and the way he's been her friend so far.

"I mean, you could have come by before if I knew you were interested."

He looked like he wanted to answer her, but as soon as the words 'wasn't interested' had formed in his head he knew it would be suicide to say them. Or, maybe not suicide, but definitely rude. But saying he was interested might sound like he wanted something more physical from her than what they had. Which he wasn't really after, though he guessed he wouldn't be opposed to. Hell, he didn't know.

He needed a safer way of saying it.

"Figured you woulda, know you, invited me." His tone wasn't accusatory. Just awkward. "I mean, if you wanted me to come over."

"I don't think it ever really came up." She glances over at him, watching his expression briefly for a moment, then drifts just a little closer. Her elbow bumps his lightly; from another person, it would be easy to mistake the brief touch as accidental. "Don't worry about it too much."

Daryl glanced over at her at the bump, lips pressing tightly together. He let his eyes meet hers before nodding slowly, "Okay."

Then he fought a smile and lightly elbowed her in return, "Wouldn't mind it if you wanted me to."

Good. That seems like a good foot to be on. Natasha can work with that.

She flashes a smile in response. She plays, but she doesn't have any intentions on him. While she doesn't intend to take it beyond the occasional flirtations, she also doesn't intend to stop.

"I'll keep that in mind."

HOUNSLOW TERRITORY CLAIM

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