[ Firmly. He's not such a fool that he thinks she requires that reassurance, but the sooner they can get on the same page about that, the sooner they can figure out whose place they are in. Some Zakharov safehouse, they've decided the money isn't enough to keep her quiet, and he's here to keep an eye on her. That's his first thought.
But that's not it. If they were into real deal kidnapping, some low-level goon like him wouldn't be kept in the loop. She knows that as well as he does, because she's smart. Igor may not be good at much, but he's good at listening, good at watching. The only one out of the other night's frustrating entourage to even bother, to have the curiosity to wonder what's furious and frightened bluster and what's real.
A little of both this time, he thinks, with the gentlest, blink-or-you'll-miss-it hint of a smile when she shoves a pair of underwear in his face. ]
I think we should... [ Pausing, searching for the word in English somewhere in the middle of her forehead, still avoiding looking at her tits even while they're partially covered. ] Cooperate. I'm going to stand now.
[ Pinching the pair of panties to his nose - which is useless, they're all lace instead of anything actually absorbent, Igor stands, shirtless, but thankfully afforded a pair of pajama pants he doesn't remember changing into. ]
no subject
[ Firmly. He's not such a fool that he thinks she requires that reassurance, but the sooner they can get on the same page about that, the sooner they can figure out whose place they are in. Some Zakharov safehouse, they've decided the money isn't enough to keep her quiet, and he's here to keep an eye on her. That's his first thought.
But that's not it. If they were into real deal kidnapping, some low-level goon like him wouldn't be kept in the loop. She knows that as well as he does, because she's smart. Igor may not be good at much, but he's good at listening, good at watching. The only one out of the other night's frustrating entourage to even bother, to have the curiosity to wonder what's furious and frightened bluster and what's real.
A little of both this time, he thinks, with the gentlest, blink-or-you'll-miss-it hint of a smile when she shoves a pair of underwear in his face. ]
I think we should... [ Pausing, searching for the word in English somewhere in the middle of her forehead, still avoiding looking at her tits even while they're partially covered. ] Cooperate. I'm going to stand now.
[ Pinching the pair of panties to his nose - which is useless, they're all lace instead of anything actually absorbent, Igor stands, shirtless, but thankfully afforded a pair of pajama pants he doesn't remember changing into. ]
What is last thing you remember?