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"Cargo pants," Evan answered, "and they're useful and practical." It wasn't an argument, not really. If this had been a simple smash-and-grab, his choice of attire probably wouldn't have mattered, but standing out when they were trying to blend in could blow their cover right out of the gate. Besides, this was Sasha's op--if she said they were going shopping, they were going shopping.

He would just have to find some other way to store his munitions. Big pockets, maybe. Whatever. He could be creative. He was more disappointed at seeing Sasha's endless fall of hair bound and restrained. "You don't have to do that," he protested, following after her. "You can have dessert any time you like. All you ever have to do is ask." Even that wasn't a requirement; she had been on his thoughts often enough lately that he'd been tempted, more than once, to seek her out and offer.

Without prompting, he stepped in close to take the handle of Sasha's luggage from her. She looked damn good in those heels and that dress--certainly not like the type of woman who carried her own luggage--and maybe Evan liked looking at her without the burden of a suitcase between them. "So, where to?"

Evan shrugged, smiling contently down at Sasha. He hadn't understood a word she said, but he was glad to see her so happy. "Yes, plenty of dinners. Something to keep our energy up for dessert," he agreed. His eyes glazed over a bit as she brought up their quality time in the Life labs the day they had agreed to try friendship on for size. So far, it had been a good fit. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, already thinking up places he could surprise her. The beach immediately came to mind and was just as soon discarded as too cliche, but the kitchen, maybe, late at night. One of the libraries. H's desk.

"I'll allow it," Evan said, "on the condition that you let me take you somewhere that warrants wearing it. Somewhere nice, at least one night." They would have the better part of the week to order room service--and, perhaps, the entire dessert menu--but dinner was nice, too.

Evan considered Sasha's question with a contemplative hum. "Sometimes. Sometimes it's hard to remember what normal's like," he admitted. This type of mission was certainly not the normal he had become accustomed to; no sand, no immediate danger, no overwhelming wave of blood lust--too easy, he thought, and then tried to unthink it. This was nice, regardless of how abnormal it was. "Is this what you do with your time off the island?"

"Sounds good," Evan agreed, eager, now, to get this shopping over with so they could move on to the good stuff. He hadn't had much time to review the file before Sasha had gotten them out of H's office, but he was looking forward to seeing how she would have them proceed.

Mostly he hoped he had an opportunity to use some of the shiny, explosive toys he had brought along, but he always held out hope for that.

Dimly, he remembered the fluffy pink and green robe Sasha had wrapped herself in that time she had dragged him away from Tuck's pod. He had thought it was a strange thing to see her in, but he hadn't given it much consideration at the time or anytime since then. He hadn't known it was a thing. "Chocolate and frogs," he said, humming contemplatively. "I'll have to keep that in mind. Chocolate I get, but why frogs?" She hardly seemed like the frog type.

That was actually kind of sad, and not at all something Evan had expected to hear from Sasha. She didn't seem like the kind of woman who would do something just to do something. He thought he could understand, though, a little; with the far from normal lives they led, any shred of normalcy helped.

Frogs, though? And it didn't sound like Sasha liked them much, either. He didn't know whether helping her collection along--because frog figurines were everywhere--would be helping her or hurting her.

He didn't have time to question it, though. He heaved a resigned sigh as he placed their luggage next to the chair Sasha settled in, shooting her a not-quite-pout as he was led away. A few minutes later, the tailor came back out, fussing with the racks as he looked for things in Evan's size. Evan chose to use that time wisely.





Eventually, the tailor wandered back towards the fitting area. Another handful of minutes passed before he came back out, content that he had given Evan enough pairs of pants to try on.

Evan was actually 100% serious. The zipper of the pants he was in the process of trying on was stuck halfway up and Evan didn't want to risk tearing the delicate fabric. He hadn't expected Sasha to actually come help him, but he greeted her with a wide smile as he opened the door for her. After quickly peering out to make sure the tailor was nowhere in sight, he reeled Sasha into the fitting room with an arm around her waist and closed the door behind her.

"Hi," he whispered before leaning in to give her a long, thorough kiss.

"Yes," Evan admitted, completely unashamed. "I'm being spontaneous. And if you have to ask, I must not be doing it right." He tugged her close and proceeded to try harder.

Evan was suspiciously amenable for the rest of the trip, even agreeing to a couple of ties. Subtle, neutral colors, because the entire point was to blend in. There was room in the pockets of the jacket for his phone and wallet, but nothing big enough for the runic grenades he had brought or the bayonet that lived in the side of his boot, and all of the clothes he had walked in wearing clattered as he packed them into the bag he had brought.

He felt, despite the well-made clothes he was wearing, utterly naked. He moved stiffly and hesitantly, too aware of the fine fabric he wasn't at all accustomed to wearing. This was, by far, the nicest thing he had ever worn, and he really, really hoped he didn't embarrass Sasha. He could do this for her. It was all just a part of the mission, he told himself. At least it wasn't the desert.

(He wished, very briefly, that it was the desert, but that wasn't a place he wanted Sasha to ever have to visit again.)

It was a relief once they got outside, and Evan took a deep breath--but not too deep; the shirt and jacket were well-fitted, and he he could feel it tighten around his chest. "Thank you," he said on the exhale, grinning softly down at Sasha. "A lot. Seriously. This is...do you think you can expense it? It's for the mission, after all." Though he had to admit that they matched a little better now, less like a woman and her muscle and more like a woman and her...friend.