He replies with a noncommittal shrug.

"Mm, it's no trouble. I'm heading that way anyway." Is he? He supposes he is. New York seems important in a vague, abstruse way, and that sort of meandering logic is solid enough for Daniel's present instincts. Even if those instincts tend to get him killed, they're often correct for a reason.

"Um, Daniel," he ventures hastily upon remembering that he's forgotten an important step in the socializing process, "is me. Hi."