the quick answer? yes, he was being interrogated. a friendly interrogation, but an interrogation nonetheless. it was important to know those around you, in rogue's opinion ; and when you had time to make up for in general, let alone with a stranger who seemed awfully comfortable in your space, a little interrogating was the quickest way to get things done. ( it was also a good way to judge personalities, and so far this man seemed to handle himself well ; smart enough not to give everything away , but comfortable enough to come close. )
the quick answer obviously wouldn't be her actual answer though, as rogue would simply smile as the question was posed, nodding along as his answers came to light : a FREQUENT enough visitor to be familiar with the city. ONLY in town for work. WILLING to come back on a case by case basis.
as far as facts went this specific set was perfect when it came to making a rollercoaster out of her own personal alert system. he came in as a threat, momentarily made it sound as though he was not a threat, and in the end it turned out that the word ' yet ' was the most important potential addition she'd need to keep in mind.
no. he, the visitor, isn't a threat - Y E T - but those contracts which may or may not have him rolling back into town time and time again could easily sway things in that direction. an out-of-towner one day is competition living next door in the blink of an eye. all the more reason to make nice now.
" interesting. well, as the unofficial-official tour guide let me say that i hope you're finding time to see the sights, taste the food, and blahblahblah in between jobs. people are harsh when they talk about us, but really we aren't so bad - even to those who only roll into town to cut our numbers down, we're a welcoming bunch. "
somewhere, in the back of her mind, rogue was bristling at the embarrassing overuse of 'we'. in night city no one was a we, and yet part of her clearly needed to claim her space, that one little word as far as she could go when in reality she wanted to lift her leg & piss from watson all the way to pacifica if that's what it took to make the point. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmetaphorically.
knowing that an actual answer couldn't / wouldn't be provided for a plethora of reasons, the energy with which rogue would ask her next question was that of someone who knew perfectly well not to expect much in return ; it would almost sound like a joke, a sentence forced from her mouth which even she thought was funny.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ " who're you working for right now ? "
as if answering wasn't a death sentence in and of itself. but who could say for sure -- for all she knew things worked differently where he was from, and he'd slip up by offering an actual name or two. ( not that she'd do anything with the information. it would just be fun. a little secret shared between two newly crowned besties. )
