Sarang

Respectfully Teasing

Diana kept her gaze firmly on the ground. The slight uneven gait from the broken heels was noticed now, hoping that it wouldn't cause further issues. 47's arm tightened across her shoulders as they reached the top of the stairs, causing her gaze to shift upwards for a second. Security, probably a bodyguard or something close to it judging by the suit and heavy firearm on his back. Diana glanced around, trying to not think of bad results from the encounter.

"No guests allowed upstairs." The man bluntly said, arms crossing around his chest. Diana bit the inside of her cheek, trying to remember how her voice sounded when she was sick. Sometimes access could be gained through pity, as absolutely dissatisfying as it was. Though this security didn't seem like the type to give into pity.

"She's sick and can't leave, it wouldn't be fair to have her be uncomfortable downstairs." 47 replied calmly, soft concern lacing his voice. Diana almost raised a brow, putting on a pained smile as the man's gaze went back to her. "I also doubt the other guests would be happy." He added, pulling now other people into the so called problem. The Handler almost grinned at the smart move, looking up at the agent with brief pride.

There was a long pause, slowly becoming uncomfortable. The security's eyes never moved from Diana, eventually giving a nod. Just as before, 47's arm tightened across her shoulders, as well as the hand on her arms. The man's eyes could still be felt on her, a soft scowl growing across her face now that nobody but the agent could see her.

"Do you have anything I can throw at him?" She mumbled, gritting her teeth. An amused smirk briefly appeared on 47's face, a brow arching slightly. "I'm serious, I'll find something from your pockets." She continued the joke with a smile, subtly poking the agent's ribs. Now a barely audible chuckle came from the taller, which felt like a hard earned victory.

"Let's get at least a plan down before that." 47 mumbled back, steering them to a door. Diana hummed a bit, relieved to be free of the sick act. "Any intel you may have held back from telling me for your dramatic reveals?" He then asked teasingly, opening the door and unwrapping his arm from her shoulders. Quietly, Diana laughed, looking around the room for a moment.

"Nothing that's helpful, just info on the targets that's useless. Relationship, age, political beliefs..." She replied, sitting on the edge of the guest bed, rubbing her arms. She paused, glancing at the agent with a slight head tilt. "You sounded concerned back there, was I that good of an actor?" She asked, throwing in a joke to take away the heavily serious question.

47 stopped looking around, furrowing his brows at the question. He cleared his throat, adjusting the stolen vest slightly. "He was heavily armed with weapons, he could've taken us both if I'd been any other agent." He answered matter-of-fact, returning to surveying the room.

Diana paused, snorting softly. "Someone's confident." She teased in a mumble, laying back on the bed. "Rightfully so, of course." She added, closing her eyes. There was plenty of intel that their client had given, but so much of it couldn't help them. Her brow furrowed, eyes opening with a huff. Nothing helpful seemed to show itself, something that frustrated the Handler.

If 47 had replied to her comment, she hadn't noticed. Noticing the man sitting next to her was surprising as well, a slightly confused look on his face. "I thought your brilliant idea was a nap." He mumbled, the ends of his lips lifting up a bit. Diana hummed in amusement, sitting up with a determined look in her eyes.

"Surprisingly, no, I've had yet to get you to take some rest during a mission." She replied lazily, looking towards the ceiling. A proper, hearty laugh could be heard now, the sound almost melting away the frustrating feelings. The laughter and almost eased atmosphere was snapped away at a knock on the door.