Derek still really doesn't understand why people are so afraid of Natasha. He's never seen a problem with an independent woman who can take care of herself and kick some ass when necessary; his mother and his sisters were like that. So it honestly makes no sense to Derek why that would be an intimidating trait. He doesn't mention that again, though. He's already said his piece on that and figures he might as well leave it be. "Well, in that case, glad to be of service," he replies.
It seems like with every conversation Derek unwittingly chips away a little at the wall that Natasha's built up around herself. She's comfortable sharing little nuggets of information here and there and that's enough for Derek. Most people would find someone who keeps their cards that close to their chest all the time to be suspicious, but Derek sees it as smart. There are too many things that make Derek think he'll never understand other people, but he supposes it works in his favor with Natasha. They can build a friendship born of understanding and an unwillingness to push one another for information the other isn't comfortable sharing. So he lets the subject drop with her comment, because continuing it only implies pressing for information she doesn't want to give and Derek doesn't want to have if the former is true.
His chin lifts and he smirks, amused. "Ah, I see. You run the show at all times, then," he says. Derek can respect that. And while he is not a fan of being on a dance floor, he's bent before and he can bend again. So, when she takes his hand and starts to move toward the floor, even though he has no desire to be out there, Derek doesn't put up a struggle; he goes. Then, he draws her closer, one hand on her waist and the other still holding her hand. He's learned to ballroom dance for weddings, so the skill at least comes in handy. He might not like it, but he happens to be pretty good at it. Not amazing, but not an oaf, either.
"I don't think any of us get a lot of opportunities for that," he sighs. "I keep waiting for something terrible to happen here," he adds, frowning. In Derek's experience in this place so far, nothing good actually exists. Surely, there's about to be an attack of some kind or the food was all drugged or something, right? Derek's never really been the kind of person who can look at a situation objectively. In the wake of his experiences, it's hard not to look subjectively and this is all too good to be true: real clothes, real food, decentish music...he's waiting for the other shoe to drop as it so often does in the Alpha Complex. "Are you having fun so far, though, at least?"
no subject
It seems like with every conversation Derek unwittingly chips away a little at the wall that Natasha's built up around herself. She's comfortable sharing little nuggets of information here and there and that's enough for Derek. Most people would find someone who keeps their cards that close to their chest all the time to be suspicious, but Derek sees it as smart. There are too many things that make Derek think he'll never understand other people, but he supposes it works in his favor with Natasha. They can build a friendship born of understanding and an unwillingness to push one another for information the other isn't comfortable sharing. So he lets the subject drop with her comment, because continuing it only implies pressing for information she doesn't want to give and Derek doesn't want to have if the former is true.
His chin lifts and he smirks, amused. "Ah, I see. You run the show at all times, then," he says. Derek can respect that. And while he is not a fan of being on a dance floor, he's bent before and he can bend again. So, when she takes his hand and starts to move toward the floor, even though he has no desire to be out there, Derek doesn't put up a struggle; he goes. Then, he draws her closer, one hand on her waist and the other still holding her hand. He's learned to ballroom dance for weddings, so the skill at least comes in handy. He might not like it, but he happens to be pretty good at it. Not amazing, but not an oaf, either.
"I don't think any of us get a lot of opportunities for that," he sighs. "I keep waiting for something terrible to happen here," he adds, frowning. In Derek's experience in this place so far, nothing good actually exists. Surely, there's about to be an attack of some kind or the food was all drugged or something, right? Derek's never really been the kind of person who can look at a situation objectively. In the wake of his experiences, it's hard not to look subjectively and this is all too good to be true: real clothes, real food, decentish music...he's waiting for the other shoe to drop as it so often does in the Alpha Complex. "Are you having fun so far, though, at least?"