He hadn't noticed her so much as he'd...god...felt her. And yes he could see exactly where he'd bite if he needed to. But not a bit of it reached his face. The only sense of anything unusual was the domino he was twirling between his fingers over and over, four and four again and four and four. He'd gotten good at hiding it, he'd had to if he was going to be around people. And Meg was safe where she was. Because of his friends, because of sheer bull minded willpower. She was safe.
This was a test though, in some ways. To see how he did with social interaction, to see how he got along being like the others. The last time he'd tried it, he'd dated and wound up drinking her blood. Which of course she had never stopped reminding him about. Bloody minded of course, she was Scottish. And independent and feisty and so entirely a breath of fresh air into a life that had not had such a thing in years. And then she'd asked him out and he'd muttered drunkenly about her neck, about sex. God he'd been ridiculous.
But Alex was not here, she was at home, probably worried, probably trying to rent-a-ghost to him and he was here. Trying to help John Mitchell and praying it wasn't making him a hypocrite to offer the man advice. If he could do this, with this Meg, then he could help. So yes, that meant social interaction.
"You'd have seen me on the message boards, yes." he said simply in reply to her question. "Hal Yorke. A pleasure to meet you my Lady" he added as introduction, preceding the words with a small bow. It was the simple things he enjoyed, the little formalities. They kept the world going, they kept people being people. And even if many of his were outdated now he was happy to maintain them.