Tea in New York [RP for Tm_northstar]

[red_eyed_sin]

Nathaniel arrived at Lady Mendl's Tea Room in Gramercy Park in New York a few minutes before he was to meet JP. Nathaniel was not nervous, precisely, but he was sharply aware of the pervasive feeling of oddness of meeting someone who actually seemed to like him

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[red_eyed_sin]

Nathaniel looked up, and then rose politely to his feet. He'd been a bit lost in his head, thinking about work. Rachel usually threw things at him at the table when he did that.

"Ah. Hello, Mr. Beaubier." Nathaniel waved to the empty seat. "Please, do sit down." He looked around the room, noticing the decor for the first time since entering the restaurant. "I do feel as I have suddenly found myself in my aging aunt's townhome on Oxford Street. A significantly less number of cats, however."

[red_eyed_sin]

"Most certainly," Nathaniel said. He paused. "I am not entirely sure I know who Tim Horton is, though I surmise he must serve tea from a bag?" Nathaniel sighed. "I returned from Apocalypse's ship back to earth once--after a great span of years, perhaps seventy, mind--and was served tea in a bag in London. I nearly annihilated the entire city." Nathaniel coughed. "I am only joking, of course. I hadn't the emotional capacity, but I do recall being quite irritated. That is simply barbaric."

[red_eyed_sin]

"Thelma and whom?" Nathaniel asked politely, feeling a bit lost. JP's accent was not terribly hard for Nathaniel to understand, certainly, but his speech and word choices were far more modern than Nathaniel was accustomed to, even living with Isobel. "And I suppose that is good, Rachel does have a tendency to brood whenever she kills someone. I always found that a bit silly, even now, but what can one say?"

A shadow fell over the table. Nathaniel looked up. The waiter had their next course, scones and clotted cream. He had also heard exactly what Nathaniel had just said.

"More tea, please," Nathaniel said, effectively erasing the conversation from the man's mind.

[red_eyed_sin]

"I simply do not need him repeating tales. Self-preservation is somewhat of a hobby of mine." Nathaniel put cream on his scone, but he didn't eat it.

"Isobel was assigned to me by SHIELD. They wanted someone to keep an eye on me, who would report any of my misdoings so that I might be thrown immediately into the Negative Zone." Nathaniel took a bite of his scone. He was a very precise, neat man when he ate.