cribellate | DAPHNE MORALES-KOCCHAR

[She laughs a little, just as pleased as he is. It's not often that she gets close to someone this way - physically, that is, it's not always something that's easy. He makes it very easy with his smile, and his banter.]

Well, I'll save that for the second time you see me picking up fruit at an overpriced food hall.

[That's maybe more than just a joke: if it goes well at tea, of course she'll want to see him again.]

Well, then-

[She loops her arm around his.]

Come on then.

[ oxford always gives as good as he takes, regardless of the situation. he's adaptable; no matter what tone daphne could have thrown at him to start with, he would have returned it suitably. mind you, he's quite glad that they've worked out an impromptu date rather than begun a war that involved bombarding each other with unusual fruit. ]

I'll hold you to it, my dear. [ he smiles at her, brilliantly as ever. ] Please, lead the way.

You're going to cause an accident, smiling like that. It gives a girl nothing but mischief to think about.

[She is leading the way - to pay for her tiny haul of fruit, including the pineberries. There are places to get tea nearby, or just here, but she hasn't decided, yet. She'll figure it out as she goes along.]

There's nothing quite as satisfying as knowing someone's walked into a lamp post because of your smile, I must admit. [ he tilts his head, mock-wonderingly. ] I prefer the sound of mischief, though.

Oh, no, or a ditch. It does stroke the ego, doesn't it?

[She tilts her head up, just so she can look at him, that very brief sort of wondering look. Oh, John.]

Yes, you seem the sort.

Do I? [ he sounds awfully pleased with himself. ] I've lived my whole life with people initially presuming that I'm a gentleman through and through, which is to say, a more polite iteration of "boring".

Mm. No.

[She takes another moment-]

If you aren't prone to mischief, tell me now. I'm not keen on wasting time on someone who isn't able to keep up.

I said initially. [ this time, his smile to her is not so much brilliant as it is wolfish. ] That's not an opinion that many people hold onto. If I may be so bold as to say, I'm almost certain I can keep up.

[She barks a laugh, but she's so pleased that if she had a tail, it would be flicking lazily.]

Good.

By the way, what am I interrupting?

Interrupting?

[ he thinks for a moment, genuinely wondering. ]

Nothing, it would seem. I had some time to myself, and I thought it best to waste it all by poking around the many delicacies of Harrods.

[A pause of consideration, because she's really curious now, it's like she opened something up and can't stop until she gets to the bottom.]

Which one is your favorite? Delicacy of Harrods, I mean.

I am ever a slave to the tea, in particular the TWG 1837 Black variety.

[ he looks a little sheepish, but also somewhat wolfish at the same time. ]

Of all the things one can find in Harrods, and yet I shoehorn myself firmly into my country's beloved stereotype.

Oh, you're so English, it's adorable.

If I get coffee, how much will your opinion of me go down the tubes?

[She says that, but really, she wouldn't get coffee. Coffee in the UK tastes like backwater swill - she brings her own from home whenever she's spending more than a month or so in England.]

[ he barks a laugh, shaking his head. ]

I just can't help myself. [ he allows a small pause of faint but serious consideration. ] I suppose I would have to forgive you, the same way I forgive myself every groggy morning that calls for something with more kick than a mug of Earl Grey.

I wouldn't have gotten through graduate school without at least one or two coffees a day, though I am pretty fond of a good cup of tea. It's just that in the United States, I could never get it to taste right.

[She blames the water, whole-heartedly.]

DAPHNE MORALES-KOCCHAR | ORIGINAL

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