"Well then, probably more trouble than it's worth." She's still teasing him, it's just now she's teasing him by... not teasing him. Natasha's not entirely sure how to class it. She doesn't do this with many people. Friendship is not something she actively goes seeking out. It's found her in the past, of course, and like an idiot she let it-- not that it matters now. Can't change the past, just like she can't change the fact that Illya now knows her better than anyone in the city.

"And I like vanilla. It's sweet." She swipes the other side of the popsicle stick against his arm as soon as he reveals it, and then licks half the paint off of her own wrist. "Maybe a little too sweet. I don't know. Pretty shade of white, though. I like the shimmer."