She doesn't miss the way he looks at her; she doesn't bother acknowledging it, either. Especially not once he springs his question on her. She doesn't expect him to be distracted, to underestimate her because of how she looks, but she wouldn't mind if he was.

It would make this conversation a little easier.

Her expression falls and she bows her head slightly, not in guilt because she doesn't have any time for that. Because what happened was a mistake, and the mess it's causing go well beyond nest and pack politics. "I know about it. It's a real mess," Natasha says, acknowledging the situation with unfeigned discomfort. It put her in an uncomfortable spot. "And I know the girl. We ran into each other a few days before it happened. If I'd have known what she was up to..."

She trails off.

"Haven't heard much since then, though."