Natasha sets the folder down on the floor by the end of the mattress. She shouldn't, strictly speaking, be carrying it around with her, but she hasn't had time to read it through yet and the Archive closes at seven. So it was either bring it with her or lose the opportunity until tomorrow.
She's vaguely aware of how Clint moves over to her side with more speed than she thought he could manage, and she looks up at him as he sits down on the mattress, flashing him a smile in reward. The subjects react well to rewards, and to kindness. Of course, most subjects she's been brought into contact with haven't made it through a week. Once they're injected with the serum... They don't last long.
Kneeling on the floor, she begins sorting out the equipment on her tray, lining up the vials for blood tests and tearing open the sterile blood-kit. His words surprise her as much as they surprise him, and she darts a look up at him. "I am," she confirms. "Been here two weeks now."
Reluctantly, she pulls on the cheap, blue plastic gloves. They're too tight and despite the talcum powder on the inside, her skin turns clammy as soon as she's snapped them into place. "Give me your left arm, I'm going to draw a little bit of blood." She looks up at him, sort of searchingly, and then she adds, "You can put your other hand back over my heart if you want." Because it seems to settle him, and despite her previous training, she's not quite mastered the art of drawing blood yet.
no subject
She's vaguely aware of how Clint moves over to her side with more speed than she thought he could manage, and she looks up at him as he sits down on the mattress, flashing him a smile in reward. The subjects react well to rewards, and to kindness. Of course, most subjects she's been brought into contact with haven't made it through a week. Once they're injected with the serum... They don't last long.
Kneeling on the floor, she begins sorting out the equipment on her tray, lining up the vials for blood tests and tearing open the sterile blood-kit. His words surprise her as much as they surprise him, and she darts a look up at him. "I am," she confirms. "Been here two weeks now."
Reluctantly, she pulls on the cheap, blue plastic gloves. They're too tight and despite the talcum powder on the inside, her skin turns clammy as soon as she's snapped them into place. "Give me your left arm, I'm going to draw a little bit of blood." She looks up at him, sort of searchingly, and then she adds, "You can put your other hand back over my heart if you want." Because it seems to settle him, and despite her previous training, she's not quite mastered the art of drawing blood yet.