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It's a relief to be back at work, so to speak.

It's true he and Finch don't have a team put together quite yet and it's true there's still a good deal of work to do at the warehouse, they'll hardly be running missions by the weekend, but at the same time he knows it's coming. The work he's doing now is mostly busy work, running errands for Finch when he needs them, getting supplies, fetching him his tea when he runs low, making sure Finch actually eats while he works, but it's good work. It's going to lead them to something bigger, so John does it all without question.

Whether or not Finch will be able to rebuild the Machine is something they haven't discussed. John is almost afraid to approach the topic, worried the first words he'll hear out of Finch's mouth are I can't. He'd never imagined he would grow to think of the Machine as he does, as a sentient helper, something -- no, someone -- to be missed as keenly as he misses Carter and Shaw, but here he is. And he does miss the Machine.

They'll get there eventually. For now, he does what Finch asks of him.

Today he's out picking up cell phones. It's an easy enough purchase, but in order to make sure no one detects any patterns to their purchases, John visits different suppliers, buying only one phone from each, using only cash. That's his plan, anyway, but after the second stop he spots a familiar face.

"Damen," he says. "It's good to see you."

He's worried about him and Laurent both in the aftermath of what had happened. John has been an operative for a long time, he knows he can deal with the guilt he feels over having hurt someone with Dutch's face, but he's worried about them, about how they're dealing with it.

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Damen carried two cloth bags of meats and produce in one hand and held a book against his chest with the other as he made his way back to his dwelling. Many weeks ago, Laurent had suggested Damen spend his excess time learning how to cook and though he had at first been skeptical, Damen found he enjoyed the experience. He'd made the mistake at first of trying something far behind his ability and, since then, had scaled back some.

Tonight, he would try a stew, he'd decided. If it proved decent, he would recreate it soon for Laurent, in the hopes it would meet his approval.

His attention was caught for the moment by a familiar face upon the road. He hadn't seen John since that fateful afternoon at Laurent's and, though Damen's wounds had nearly entirely healed, the memory still lingered. It occurred to Damen that he should perhaps be frightened of the man, or at least wary, given what he'd witnessed him capable of, but Laurent's trust in him was enough to assuage any fears.

And the man had potentially saved his life.

'And you as well,' he said with a warm smile and a nod as he approached. 'Under much better circumstances this time. Are you out and about with any specific purpose?'

"A friend of mine and I were both in need of new phones," he says easily, which isn't entirely the truth, but also isn't completely a lie either. They'll be using the phones for other purposes, but they are in need of them in a manner of speaking. He actually isn't sure what Finch wants them for, it could truly be for any number of reasons, but this is the simplest explanation.

He trusts Laurent and Laurent trusts Damen, but he and Finch need to be very careful about who they include in their plans.

"Much better circumstances," he agrees. "You're feeling better?"

Damen still only had the phone provided to him upon his arrival in this world. Why he would ever need a new one, he wasn't certain, but he assumed that was yet another thing he had yet to truly understand.

'Yes,' he answered, a response both to John's statement as well as his question. 'Have you... I trust you've seen Dutch recently.'

Given all that John had done following planting the bullet in the other Dutch's head, Damen understood the necessary secrecy so he knew better than to say much out loud. And still he was curious.

"I haven't," John admits, which isn't something he's particularly proud of. It's how he deals with things he doesn't want to face and he knows he'll be seeing Dutch soon enough, but he doesn't particularly want to have to tell her about what happened. He doesn't know if Damen or Laurent will tell her and he would never ask either of them not to, but he doesn't want to have to be the one to say the words.

"I should," he says, then laughs softly. "But there are still some instances in which I'm a coward."

Finch wouldn't be pleased to learn he's avoiding the situation, but this isn't something he wants Finch to know about either. John doesn't like keeping secrets from his friend, but he doesn't even know where to begin when talking about this.

Damen's lips twiched into a sympathetic smile as he shook his head. 'I don't think this would count as cowardice,' he said just as a woman exited the shop. She barely so much as glanced at either of him, but it was a reminder that they were in public and given all the pains John had gone through in disposing of Dutch's body, Damen was well aware of the need for discretion.

With a tilt of his head, he tried to motion for Laurent to follow him, leading him down the path and turning off into a slightly more secluded street.

'I've seen her,' he said, his voice quiet as he walked alongside John. 'But I've yet to speak to her. This isn't a situation I ever imagined I'd be in. Would it be better or worse to tell her?' His lips tugged into a faint smile a moment later as he added, 'Knowing Dutch, she'd be amused, but it still seems... well, I think I'd find it disconcerting were I in her position.'

John follows easily enough, strangely relieved to have at least one person who is carrying similar feelings for the situation. Carter had pegged him with ease, he's terrible at speaking about his feelings when it matters, with most people besides Finch, and right now he doesn't feel like he can share this with Finch. Their friendship is different and he can tell him some things, but not this.

This is different.

"I think you know her better than I do," he says as they walk. "You think she'd find it funny?"

'She seems to find most things amusing,' Damen replied with no small amount of fondness. 'Not that I've seen her laugh often. It's more that she constantly has a smirk on her face. Have you not noticed?'

It occurred to Damen then that he had no idea how long John had been in the city, if exceeded his stay here or not.

'Laurent told me he met you only some months ago,' he said then, curiosity getting the better of him. 'Are you a native of this land or do you come from elsewhere as well?'

"No, I'm from New York," John answers. "I met Laurent not long after I got here, only a few days in fact."

He's quiet for a moment, then decides given what Damen has seen, there's really no point in pretending not to have the talents he does. There are others who don't know who he is, others who think he's just a regular guy, but Damen knows better He'd seen the shot he'd been able to take, the way he'd disposed of Dutch's body.

"I ran into him again a little while later," he continues. "A few men were trying to steal something from him. I stopped them. After that there was no point in hiding what I could do."

New York, Damen thought, trying to remember if he'd heard of such a place. The name did not strike a cord, however, and he eventually shook his head apologetically.

His attention was quickly diverted as John continued, brow furrowing in interest. Laurent had not mentioned any sort of assault when he'd explained how he'd met Laurent and Damen suddenly wasn't sure whether to be upset for Laurent's lack of disclosure or grateful for John's interference. Perhaps both even if he hadn't the right.

'Did you kill them, too?' he asked, careful to keep his voice low though there was no one nearby to hear him.

"No, but I stopped them," he says, then is quiet for a moment before deciding there's really no harm in pushing forward. "I don't like to have to resort to killing anyone. If I can avoid it, I will. It's why I shot her in the knee first. Damaging the kneecap like that is particularly painful and it's usually more than enough to stop someone from whatever it is they're trying to do."

Not enough for her. He regrets he'd had to use lethal force, but she wouldn't have stopped. He knows what that's like. He's had to be that way himself in the past.

It was yet another cultural difference, Damen thought. The killing of another was treated much more gravely than it ever had been in Akielos. How many men had Damen killed in battle? Not as many as Makedon. Perhaps not even as many as Nikandros. He had never taken anyone gleefully, not even the Prince of Vere.

But Damen was a warrior, a fighter and protector of his people. He did what needed to be done to keep his kingdom strong.

'The weapon you used,' he said then, still keeping his voice quiet. 'The gun. Is it a difficult one to master?'

It's a simple enough question and John shakes his head, because it's easy enough to teach someone to work a firearm, easy enough to give them lessons, show them how to be safe with the weapon. Even when someone has never seen one before, John believes they're simple enough to understand. Lessons are important, safety is important, but he's good at figuring out who will take it seriously and who will be a danger.

Damen, he believes, will be serious.

"Do you want to learn?" he asks.

'Yes,' Damen replied with little hesitation.

It was unclear whether John was offering or if he was merely curious. Damen stood taller, his expression more serious to show the full intent of his questioning, to show he did not mean it as a mere means to further the conversation.

'I was a warrior back home,' he further explained. He was not just any warrior, of course, not when he led the helm of Akielos's grand army. Not when virtually no move was made without his approval. But he kept that part quiet; it held little merit in this world. 'I'm skilled in hand-to-hand and a great swordsman. Laurent as well. Do you think you could teach the both of us?'

Warrior isn't quite the term John is used to hearing, but he understands Laurent and Damen to be from a different world than the one he knows. What he's describing, though, isn't so much different from a soldier and further to that, John does trust Laurent. He doesn't know Damen, not beyond their encounter that night and this moment here today, but he trusts Laurent.

Ten years ago, that wouldn't have mattered. But ten years ago he doubts he would have trusted Laurent either.

"I think we can do that," he agrees. "We'll have to find somewhere private, because I admittedly don't have a permit at the moment." Finch will fix that given time, but until then, he can't very well head down to the shooting range.

'Permit?' Damen replied with a slight frown. He was familiar with the concept, but only in the realm of the selling of goods and taxation. Why a person would need permission for a weapon, he couldn't understand. 'Would I need one, too?'

Even after half a year in this place, there were a great many things Damen didn't know or understand. Laurent had spent weeks back in Vere accusing him of having little intellect, of being nothing more than an idiotic barbarian. Never had such words felt more accurate than when Damen had arrived here in this place. There were days where his ignorance felt nearly insurmountable despite his efforts.

"Not unless you wanted to be legally carrying a weapon. To learn and for it to be legal, you would both need a license, but that's just a matter of purchasing one. In order to carry, though, you'd have to take the required hours of training, pass a test, and have your permit."

John smiles slightly and adds, once more, "Though that's only for it to be legal."

He's had as much training as anyone can. He's had permits and licenses in a variety of names, some even in his real name, but in Darrow everything he has is strictly illegal. At least for the time being.

Damen listened carefully, fully aware that this was information he would need to know. He wondered if the same rules applied for carrying a sword, though he had yet to see a single person bearing said weapons in public. At least outside that one Halloween day where, as Damen had come to understand, they were nothing more than accessories to costumes.

'You don't strike me as a man particularly interested in legality,' Damen remarked with a small bit of amusement.

In truth, the idea was slightly unnerving. Damen had lived his life intent on order and rules, firmly adhering to right versus wrong. The man before him was a killer, highly trained, but not a soldier. Still, he had saved Damen's life and Laurent's as well. For that, if nothing else, Damen knew he could be trusted.

'Do I need to acquire my own weapon?'

John only shrugs at the first remark, knowing it to be true. It isn't that he goes out of his way to break the law and he likes to think, with Finch's guidance, he's done more good and bad, but at the same time he has no issue going above and around the law when necessary. He'd earned the vigilante title, the Man in the Suit. Carter had had every reason to refer to him as such until she finally understood.

"No," he says at the next question. "I have plenty for you both to use to learn. If you want to carry your own, then yes, you'll have to buy one for yourself, but if you want to go through illegal channels for that, I'm sure I can find a way to help you."

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