[She probably would have, had he been sleeping when she'd slipped in. Silently rifled through his things, and debated the risk versus benefit of trying to murder him in his sleep while watching him, but probably eventually decided against it. But instead, they're talking in the kitchen, as he drinks milk and reads a file, and somehow despite knowing she'd win any physical confrontation, she feels out of her element.
He gestures to the fridge, and she's quiet, just watches him despite the offer of milk. It feels strange and wrong in a way she can't put her finger on and she just waits until it passes, until he gets to the point she cares about, what she wants to know. He opens as she knew he would- and she shrugs it off amicably enough. She watches his fingers as he flips through the pages, and takes a breath.]
Thought I'd stop by. [She doesn't bother lying. She's not good enough at it to bother, not with someone that had hid so much from people like Natasha and Fury. She says it like it's not strange to stop by at midnight, slipping through the shadows of the communal kitchen. As if she hasn't ended up all but running away ever time they talk.] So, Ivan- is he someone you work with here, or did you know his projects from back home?
[She watches him, her eyes staying sharp, picking up whatever he gives away. Not that she expects it to be much, but there's at least a name on the air, something that could mean nothing at all, or the one that had made her life crumble time and again.]
no subject
He gestures to the fridge, and she's quiet, just watches him despite the offer of milk. It feels strange and wrong in a way she can't put her finger on and she just waits until it passes, until he gets to the point she cares about, what she wants to know. He opens as she knew he would- and she shrugs it off amicably enough. She watches his fingers as he flips through the pages, and takes a breath.]
Thought I'd stop by. [She doesn't bother lying. She's not good enough at it to bother, not with someone that had hid so much from people like Natasha and Fury. She says it like it's not strange to stop by at midnight, slipping through the shadows of the communal kitchen. As if she hasn't ended up all but running away ever time they talk.] So, Ivan- is he someone you work with here, or did you know his projects from back home?
[She watches him, her eyes staying sharp, picking up whatever he gives away. Not that she expects it to be much, but there's at least a name on the air, something that could mean nothing at all, or the one that had made her life crumble time and again.]