The mental reminder of the cereal shit had him apologizing (not for the first time) that he hadn't known her soon enough to make her part of his lawsuit against Chump for the very same thing. Though the only reason his was gaining traction was because he'd gone and pulled the copyright shit back in August over the toys. He didn't like being treated like a joke and in this, his retaliation in an attempt to control what people could do to him had paid off. Not so much for anyone else.

Don't do anything flashy and most of 'em will find someone new to bother was about the best he could do in reassuring her. His own small fire of fame wasn't burning out any time soon because of the contract he'd signed. But it was what it was. He'd have to deal with it.

Daryl leaned into her without thinking about it, the physical connection along the length of their upper arms increasing steadily while he kept his eyes on their surroundings. Her's were closed, his should be open. She could listen, he could watch. The lunch passed in an outwardly comfortable silence.

Well, right up until near the end when one of those journalists came over and extended his hand toward Daryl with a big smile on his face, "Issac Gordon. Small Arms Soldiers Monthly. Do you have time for a few questions?"