Re: [Tea: Daniel/Claire]
Daniel's dark eyes tracked Claire's hands as they moved through the air, or perhaps he was watching the glint of light on shiny scars. His gaze dropped as he opened his dark tailored jacket and fished out the phone. It was one of those high-end models from last year, black around the edges and probably more advanced than Daniel would ever be in countless more decades, a phone from the top of the ad, what someone would sell a man with money and no technical expertise. He handed the phone to Claire with complete trust, obviously without any particular understanding of what someone could do with the device; or perhaps not valuing its dubious secrets. "Make it play music when you call me instead of the screeching," he commanded. He flashed teeth. "Nothing religious."
Daniel sat back on her couch with his ankle on his knee as if he owned it, one arm flung out, emperor upon the throne. "I say things." His eyes glinted with that feline amusement still present from the night previous, even if the whiskers were gone. He appreciated the edge in her voice, nothing that would come from Moscato, thanks very much. "I am sure you would have got to it eventually. Fill your head with fluff and rose petals. The real way to live, dear." His lips closed and he sobered to look back into her warmth with his own. "You are quite welcome."
Daniel sat for a moment longer after she moved away, scratching the back of his head in a rather nostalgic way (it didn't feel as it had a few hours previous). He moved along the edge of the couch to direct his gaze the way she had gone, but didn't pursue her all the way into the kitchen, a place that Daniel was habitually not welcome in the days of yore. He was on the other end without a glass as she returned, and he prevented himself for asking for more wine, since she made much of the tea -- and he had too, he recalled. He eyed the press with some distrust. "You will crush the poor leaves." He took the bottle from her first and refilled her glass, the only one still present.