She's aware she's about to give away the fact she isn't just some party girl, because she catches where Natasha's eyes go, observant. She gives an understanding smile.

"That's another favorite."

There's a moment she studies Natasha, and her smirk might say it's all about admiring her body, but this time, that's only superficial. If it wasn't for Hell, scars say a lot about a person. Sara considers herself lucky - they can be played off as remnants from a lash, jabs from a spear. Just Hell.

"Sometimes you're just too busy. On the move. End up with moments I just want to get to it," she admits. "But not this time. We have all night," she makes that promise as she leans next to her, whispering in Natasha's ear.