Between the self-deprecating commentary and the way Nick ends up looking like the proverbial deer caught in headlights, Daryl's forced to wonder just how badly he may have misread things, already mentally preparing to withdraw his suggestion. Had he presumed too much, too soon? He's also sorely tempted to point out that they're not talking about Luke or his abilities, whatever he can or can't do better than Nick, but there's obviously history there that may be better left untouched at the moment. Navigating potentially delicate feelings is not something he excels at.

Feelings in general make him feel out of his depth.

Then after what feels like far too long, Nick's agreeing, and the wary tension that had been stiffening Daryl's posture thaws as he reaches for his own glass, and returns the gesture, as though finalising their arrangement with a symbolic toast. He drains what little whiskey's left in his glass before asking, "When d'you wanna do it?"

They can start with one and go from there, he figures. In the interim, he'll be thinking of what he can offer in return. Hunting or tracking lessons, maybe, or even a tattoo. Something. He's too self-conscious about taking up Nick's time to not attempt to make it up to him in some way.

"...Dunno what I can do for ya in return. But I'm willin' to work something out."