Christine didn't do well with idle time. Her mind had an onslaught of memories that held all the charm of a rusty bear trap, and when she had nothing to do, there was nothing to stem the tide. Nothingness was the best friend of the ghosts that haunted her, and she did her level best to never let them win. That meant filling her time, and filling it as strenuously as possible. When she'd discovered the heavy bag, when she'd first gotten her little 'tour', she'd instantly decided that she was going to make vigorous use of the thing. Nothing quite obliterated heavy thought like punching the living shit out of something.
It beat sitting around trying not to reflect on things, it beat dreaming about Veronica, and it sure as shit beat trying to give chatty assholes enough of a glare that they stopped trying to make conversation with her. That was one thing that she was really finding irritating, living in this little slice of delusion. There were people in here, and they were relaxing, and some of them really wanted to share war stories, or something. She didn't know, she didn't care, and she definitely didn't want to talk to anyone.
Talking to people meant getting to know them and she didn't like doing that. People died. Usually in really terrible ways, and she didn't have the heart for it anymore. Or maybe she never did, she was fuzzy on that. She was positive that it was only a matter of time before this place ate itself alive anyway. Sure, it was alright now, but that wouldn't last. Shit would go south, it was just a matter of time, and a matter of watching for the smoke so you could be ready for the fire. Christine was fairly certain she already saw signs of it.
Perhaps that was why she'd been feeling so antsy lately. She knew the next step was starting to volunteer every time to do redirection missions, and take guard duty, but what she really wanted to do was take a drive, find some old building, blast music loud enough to attract every walker for miles, then burn the whole thing down. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done something of the sort, but it had been a while. Roughly since she'd joined up with Negan's crew, and life had taken a decidedly different bent for a while.
When she had company, she clocked it before Six managed to make herself known via talking. She didn't let it break her concentration, though, and didn't stop til she was done with her set. She grabbed a towel, some ratty old thing, and she arched a brow at the decidedly gorgeous woman. If there ever was a desert flower, Christine was pretty sure Six was it.
She gave her a highly skeptical look with an arched brow. "Don't you lie to me," she told her. "You watch all the damn time, don't you." Maybe not her, but she'd seen sharp eyes on Six. She knew the score beter than a lot of others around here. She smirked at the last part, but didn't address it. Not yet, anyway.