If Aaron thought he was out of his depth before, that was nothing compared to what he felt after the mysterious woman sized him up and correctly inferred his inherent discomfort with overtly suggestive behavior. He wasn’t a prude, but he wasn’t stupid, either – he knew he was attractive, conventionally speaking. There was just a part of him that was always shocked when other people pointed it out, whether with a simple off-handed compliment like “your hair looks nice today” or a more direct overture like "your place or mine?" For better or worse, both tended to leave him speechless. Hers fell on the latter end of the spectrum, though contextually he knew she was teasing. Which only made him more flustered, considering it was the last thing he expected from someone affiliated with the Resistance.
Even if that someone was… Well. Pretty. Very pretty.
Stop. Bruce’s voice cut through Aaron’s thoughts, and Aaron stiffened, closing his mouth (which he hadn’t been fully aware had fallen open in the first place) reflexively. He also noticed a tightening in the pit of his stomach, a physical response brought about by whatever Bruce was feeling, not Aaron. This was happening more and more often lately, and every time it was beyond disorienting. Finish this and get away from her.
Aaron pulled a face while the woman’s back was turned, but it was gone by the time she looked back over her shoulder, if only because he used that moment to lean down and retrieve the briefcase she’d left behind. Sometimes he really hated being the reincarnate of someone so… what was the right word today? Rigid, tight-lipped, domineering? All of the above, more like. Bruce hadn’t exactly been an open book when he first appeared, but since Aaron’s big mistake he tended to spit commands and nothing else. No explanations, no conversations, nothing. He had good reason not to trust Aaron to make the right decisions, but at the same time, it was pretty aggravating. So aggravating Aaron had begun ignoring him out of spite.
So what if this woman was a little flirty? Aaron wasn’t totally helpless. He could handle flirty.
Probably.
“I don’t really believe you, but thanks.” As he followed her inside the empty room, Aaron glanced at the woman with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Again following her example, he set the briefcase on the table and stepped back, arms crossed over his chest.
His barely-there smile was gone by the time she pulled the first weapon from the bag. One by one, she laid out a series of weapons on the table in front of him. Guns and so much more. Aaron recognized each one of them from the briefing he’d received before the exchange, but seeing them in front of him now left a metallic taste in his mouth, part distaste and part guilt. He wasn’t naive enough to think that these weapons wouldn’t be used the way they were intended. Wasn't much of a jump to think that, once he turned the weapons over, he’d be responsible for someone losing a loved one like he’d lost…
Aaron clenched his jaw. He couldn’t think like that now. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
Instead, he cleared his throat and pointed at the bag. “I, uh, think you forgot one. There’s supposed to be twelve. That’s only eleven.”