[ That's that. Derek arrives, in his usual layers, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, posture rigid. He's actually looking even more unapproachable than usual; his lips are set in a straight, angry line, and his eyes are peeled open, alert and unblinking. He's either angry about something or just - really, really doesn't want to be here.

He's used to the smell of sex permeating the air in Duplicity, but when he meets up with Tate and catches the scent of multiple people on his outfit, he does his best not to comment. ]

Could've showered before we met up.

[ His best isn't as good as it could be, apparently. Still, Tate looks happy, and Derek's not going to rain on that, in spite of his bad mood. He tucks his hands a little deeper into his pockets and lightly shakes his head. ]

I don't care. You're the one who wants to talk. I'll go wherever feels safest for you.