It isn't until Natasha is looking back at him that she realizes his eyes aren't on hers, and when he finally looks up from her mouth she's giving him a disapproving glare that conveys her thoughts; she knows where he was looking and can he really be thinking about something that silly at a time like this? It's as far as she goes, though, choosing his safety over teasing him. For now. "Why?" She snaps the question with abrasive impatience, as if his searching for the watch source is somehow putting a kink in her day, because it is. "What are you, Allen, a detective? I hope not, because you suck at it. Yeah, no shit," she adds the last part when he says that he thinks he's being followed, and she looks at the mouth of the alleyway like the mentioning of it reminded her.
"Come on, move." She doesn't wait and instead manhandles him further, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him off of the wall to try and tug him to walk down the rest of the alley with her. It's probably a comical sight to any outside witness, a five foot six inch redhead forcefully moving a man who's at least half a foot taller than her, but she does it with ease. Not only has Barry put himself at risk with Free Enterprise, but now her cover is at risk, and she's worked much too hard to involve herself in this world just for some babyfaced superhero to swoop in and mess it all up. That's happened more than enough in her life, thank you very much.
"We need to get ourselves out on a public street, I can shake them there." She's speaking as if they're still being followed despite the fact that the men fell back at her order, but Natasha isn't naive. She knows well enough to know that Free Enterprise has eyes everywhere, sometimes even where the Computer doesn't. A part of her wants to tell him what she saw, because he deserves to know, but another part of her is almost fearful to do so. There aren't many things that can make Natasha Romanoff hesitate but privacy is one of them; privacy is sacred. What's more private than one's own memory and past? "What do you think you'll be able to accomplish, finding out where that watch came from?" She doesn't sound condescending anymore, her tone taking a turn for investigative curiosity. Barry isn't a stupid guy - she's getting the feeling that it's quite the contrary to that, actually - and she wants to know just how successful he's been.
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"Come on, move." She doesn't wait and instead manhandles him further, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him off of the wall to try and tug him to walk down the rest of the alley with her. It's probably a comical sight to any outside witness, a five foot six inch redhead forcefully moving a man who's at least half a foot taller than her, but she does it with ease. Not only has Barry put himself at risk with Free Enterprise, but now her cover is at risk, and she's worked much too hard to involve herself in this world just for some babyfaced superhero to swoop in and mess it all up. That's happened more than enough in her life, thank you very much.
"We need to get ourselves out on a public street, I can shake them there." She's speaking as if they're still being followed despite the fact that the men fell back at her order, but Natasha isn't naive. She knows well enough to know that Free Enterprise has eyes everywhere, sometimes even where the Computer doesn't. A part of her wants to tell him what she saw, because he deserves to know, but another part of her is almost fearful to do so. There aren't many things that can make Natasha Romanoff hesitate but privacy is one of them; privacy is sacred. What's more private than one's own memory and past? "What do you think you'll be able to accomplish, finding out where that watch came from?" She doesn't sound condescending anymore, her tone taking a turn for investigative curiosity. Barry isn't a stupid guy - she's getting the feeling that it's quite the contrary to that, actually - and she wants to know just how successful he's been.