"Warren," she corrected as they walked at a semi-brisk pace toward the massive Xavier's garage. She looked over her shoulder en route to her helmet when Steve began stretching (verbally). She smirked, unable to cork her amusement. "He's never happy to see fellow tall, good-looking, blond men. It wrecks his calm." Her eyes went wide, teasingly, then she shrugged. "Maybe it's the English..." She pondered aloud, only semi-teasingly. The Americans in the room had been absolutely charmed by their Captain. Deep down? Eva had seen the twitch in his eyes and his meaningful glare and she knew he was a bit jealous... which was part of why getting some fresh air and doing something useful had sounded so good. And yeah, riding on the back of Steve Rogers' bike, knowing it ruffled Warren's feathers; just an added delight.
Like... really delightful. Halfway to the station, Astrape's body had re-accustomed itself to the feeling of a motorcycle under her and had quickly remembered the shady girlish joy riding had given her (way back when). Her hands were clasped together, fingers laced, at Steve's middle, and her helmet was inching closer and closer to his shoulder blades as she lost focus of staying erect and concentrated her efforts instead on releasing some of her tension. Her legs had squeezed around his outer thighs during their first turn, and ever since she'd been reenacting the motion, slowly striving towards a bike-back climax. She bit her lip as the vibrations from the Harley penetrated her lower body to the point that she unclasped her hands.
They were pulling into the lot when she let her helmet thunk against Steve's back and her fingers wiggle and clench against his abs. Hopefully, she prayed, the jarring of the bike and uneven lot would mask some of her groping. The inside of her helmet was partially fogged and she quickly leaned back, swallowed, and pulled the thing off as Steve began to dismount. Her arms hadn't wanted to release their snare around his torso - probably because she was still feeling wave of chemicals pushing pleasure all the way down to her toes. Static from her forced-control made her hair stand on end a bit, and she looked to the soldier when he spoke and began petting her stray wisps back. "Yeah," she huffed. "Oh yeah. I'm good." There was a laugh in her voice. Not from embarrassment, but from her lack thereof. "That was great. I missed it." She assured him with a nod as her hands fell a bit limply atop her helmet where his butt had just been. "Go on," she tilted her head toward the building and wet her lips. "I got this."
Oooh, no wonder she'd gotten so high, the electrokine thought as she watched Captain America walk away. She'd been pressing and grinding against that ass. When he went through the door, she clutched her chest and let out a long, heavy, happy sigh. Then she went to work. Files on Logan. Files on the girl. Files on other suspects (see: none). Files on witnesses - BINGO. She saved them all to the USB in her pocket and then sent copies via the station's wifi over to the secured computers that Forge usually sat in front of. After several minutes, she'd gotten in and out and allowed herself a much needed lean. Her hips slid forward, pushing her helmet between her knees and closer to the handle bars, and her back rested against the long seat. Eva stared up at the mostly-cloudless blue sky and tried to go back into her afterglow. It was a small, precious window of calm in the storm of injustice that was circling the school and her life. She was going to take what she could get.
Astrape smiled, gradually, until her teeth were showing and she was squinting happily up into the sunlight; Warren had been right on target.