Orange. Shit. Orange is bad. Orange is, from Natasha's point of view, perhaps the worst possible bug to be bitten by. Mostly because there is so much she wants to say, so much she wants to share with a found family that she no longer has, and she's not sure how to deal with any of it. She'd much rather the bug that makes you want to beat the living hell out of everyone who crosses your path.

The elevator jerks into motion, but her eyes don't leave Illya. She takes a deep breath, opens her mouth, and feels entirely incapable of stopping the flood of words that spew forth in place of her intended introduction. "I'm pretty certain that I'm beating my head against the wall here fighting to get back to a world that is never going to have a place for me again."

Orange.

Shit.

She screws her mouth up into a displeased frown, shifts her attention to the panel of buttons on the elevator, and pulls on the emergency stop. The elevator car jerks to an immediate standstill, and Natasha continues to glare at the panel of buttons rather than look at the man she's just trapped herself with. No way in hell is she putting herself in direct line of god knows who in these communal floors while she's feeling the intense urge to word vomit at random. If she's going to make an emotional mess of herself, at least she can try to contain it.