action;
[Anya does not smile back. Guess who she doesn't care about? That's right Suzaku, it's you.]
Hello.
[It only takes a moment for her to reach behind her and press the muzzle of her DF-issued pistol to his stomach. It's not loaded, but she's banking on him not knowing that as the safety disengages with a smart click.
She hates the fact that she's holding it, but her expression does not falter.]