It's so easy to play the morally grey, the friend to no one, untrustable, not even by some of her friends. The kneejerk response is almost to tell Sonia that she can't, but there's that look on her face, that way that she wants, so obviously and clearly, and Natasha can't bring herself to throw it in her face. Not when her voice sounds so small.

She sighs quietly, a tilt of her head to the side, considering her options. There are a dozen things she could tell her, but she can't, because they haven't fast-pentaed her yet, which means they will, later. And nothing that could suggest that Natasha's on her side is something she can risk.

"It's a difficult question; in order for me to be able to tell you that you can trust me, you have to be willing to trust what I say, and I'm not sure I've earned that yet," she admits softly. She pauses for a moment, considering.

"How much does the word of a stranger mean to you?"