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[hostileterritory]

"This is David. Leave a message."

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[hostileterritory]

He's not sure what to think of that greeting, so he doesn't bother trying to figure it out. He sits instead, studying her with the same familiar interest. He has questions about why Shaw would want to get a drink, beyond their apparent shared job description. But he is a Good Soldier, and she is a warden, so he waits to see what she wants to say.

[cactusy]

Unfortunately for him, Shaw doesn't say anything right away. She sits with her drink (now looking at it instead of him), taking some time to take in the apparent companionable silence.

"You not a talker?" she asks, finally. "Or are you trying to be respectful?"

[hostileterritory]

He takes a moment to consider that.

"Both, I suppose." It's true. The most talking he does is when people want to hear stories about his dead friends. Well, no. That's back in the world. Here, he does say a little more about himself. "People don't want to hear what you're saying most of the time, so I try to save myself the noise."

[cactusy]

Shaw hums; it's a reasonable enough answer. "I don't want to hear what people have to say a lot of the time," she admits. "But right now, it's literally my job. So you won't piss me off, and I won't tune you out."