driftfleet | Kayanni System Mingle

Sara. [If the fact there might be more than one surprises her, Natasha doesn't give any sign of it. She clarifies the statement neutrally, like a doctor might clarify the details of a disease.] She was a friend, right?

[Sara; so perhaps then, the same scene Peggy had played out for her, or the second time Rip laid hands on her that night. He doesn't ask for further clarification, suspecting he'll be able to pick out the scenario based on what other details Natasha offers up.

And also because for as much as he wants to know, there still remain incidents he'd prefer not to call.]

She still is, in fact. [By way of more than one miracle.] The technology we had access to back in my universe is quite extraordinary. Far more advanced than what we're provided here, in many cases. Because of that, and the relentless determination of the other members of the crew, her life was saved.

That's some trick. I'm glad to hear it. [Natasha sips her drink, rolling the liquid over her tongue before swallowing. She could give him more information, but there's the matter of what information he wants versus what information he actually needs.

Which might both be different from her own wants and needs on the subject.

Or maybe she's just bad at opening up and admitting things. Too much truth too quickly is awkward. She deflects and redirects so much more naturally. The glass returns to the counter with a soft click.] You know I'm not going to ask why you did it?

It's a bit more than a trick. [It's just one of the many bits of machinery and capability Rip misses on more than a daily basis. He's spent time in nearly every era of history, some far less advanced than what the fleet offers--yet being in what amounts to a pale shade of the time he knows somehow wears at him more.

Then again, he'd chosen to go to all those different times. Being here hasn't been his choice at all.

She sets her drink down, causing Rip to glance over; it'll give Natasha a rather clear view of the surprise that comes into his expression when she doesn't push.] I'd assumed just the opposite, in fact.

[But Natasha isn't Peggy. Natasha had been hauled off into the unforgiving Russian wilderness with so many other girls, and told she could only survive by killing them all. Now it's Rip's turn to rest his glass on the bartop, though his fingers don't leave it's surface. Rather, he traces a line idly along the side.]

Which, I suppose, is my mistake: assuming. [He takes a breath, contemplative for a moment.] Why aren't you going to ask?

Don't get me wrong, if you want to tell me about it, I'll listen. [She notes his surprise. Considering how Peggy reacted, Natasha supposes she can't blame him.] But I didn't see that because you wanted me to, and as I see it what you've done and who you've been isn't really any of my business. Unless something changes that, I'm not entitled to an explanation.

[That sounds like a good answer, at least. And it's mostly true. It's easier than telling him that she trusts her instincts about him more than the details she's seen. She knows context can be a very particular thing, and judging his actions without it would be an empty exercise.]

I won't say my opinion of you hasn't changed, exactly, but it means a lot less than you might imagine.

[She picks up her drink then, sipping it again.]

Which isn't to say I trust you.

[If he wants. Now there's a tricky thing; surely part of Rip does want to offer up the full explanation, to have her know that the man she'd seen so cruelly take out one of his own isn't the person he is now. Yet at the same time, it feels like an excuse, an avoidance of responsibility. Manipulated though he might have been, Rip still did it. It had been his hand to wrap around Sara's neck, as surely as it holds on to the glass of whisky now.

Peggy stood in such fear of his brainwashing and his potential reversion that she made telling Steve a condition of his remaining aboard the Starstruck. Natasha, on the other hand, seems quite content to take a different approach—one he can personally appreciate, much as he tactically appreciates Peggy's.]

You likely shouldn't. Trust me, that is.

[He says it with far more ease than one might expect, but not for the reason that's already out in the open. Once more his eyes lower, considering the amber liquid that remains in his glass.] Not because of what you saw with Sara. Those circumstances aren't in play any longer. Rather, I've been told that I'm not typically a very trustworthy person.

[Justifiably so, given that he will lie, manipulate, and keep secrets if he deems it the best way to accomplish his mission.]

I don't doubt it, but it's not personal. I don't trust many people.

[It's a short list. Almost as short as the list of people who still trust her after they know her. The message here isn't that she finds him untrustworthy, per se; it's that she already knew he wasn't trustworthy, but then, neither is she.

In a way, she respects that he doesn't try to explain what happened.]

It's a professional hazard.

Kayanni System Mingle

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