Being invisible was a great gift. Daryl stood quietly behind the detective, content to listen in on her conversation with her strange friend without drawing any attention to herself whatsoever. Ears carefully tuned forward, she stood silently and simply took in the conversation before her. Listening to Detective Warda titter like a schoolgirl over a potential mate was almost amusing. She tilted her head, listening for the friend's response. It would almost inevitably be gushing, asking about his name or some such.
Daryl found that her prediction was quite wrong.
The fact that J. Poole used the pronoun "she" made sense in context. During their prior meeting, Detective Warda had mumbled something about not equating attraction with the biological drive to procure offspring. If she were attracted to women, clearly she would not be fulfilling her biological imperative with sexual attraction. At least, not without the help of a scientific lab.
Before she could think more on this, Daryl found herself rudely dragged into their conversation as the excitable barista pointed her out. Her gasps and squeals attracted the attention of two patrons, much to Daryl's chagrin. Lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure, she stared at the squealing woman. "I can hear your postulation, and I can confirm now that no, I will not sign your breasts." Her tone was clipped and humorless, almost lifeless. Her gaze rose to Detective Warda, accompanied by an arched eyebrow. "Detective Warda," she said simply before glancing to the woman of unreasonable requests. "J. Poole."