"It's not a nickname you here much back home," Natasha explains, shrugging one shoulder and pursing her lips. If it's unexpected, then it's exactly what Natasha intended. "Alexandra, though... Sasha? No, you don't look like a Sasha."

She taps the table top once or twice, then leans back slightly. Might as well give the girl a little of the space she clearly wants. "What do you know about Russia? Not the Communists or the Revolution, but—let's say our people."