Revan flopped down in a chair at a table, setting her drink on top of the table and leaning forward. 

"Why did I volunteer to hang out here," she muttered to herself, motioning for the straw to turn in her glass without touching it. This world was so unlike her own, completely foreign ... completely weird. 

She pulled out her datapad, hoping it'd be similar enough to the things other people were using, and started to make notes to herself. She'd need to pop back over and either bring T3 through, or at least assure him she wouldn't be long and to put the ship in safe orbit somewhere. She sighed, straw turning in her drink again. 

She didn't want this, she was actually against it. That wasn't surprising though, oh no. Steve knew her arguments, and like usual he ignored every single thing she said. Why? Because Sharon couldn't take care of herself. Her body was broken, from her collarbone down to her right leg. Her ribs were cracked, arm splinted, and the wounds from the gun shot.. Well, they still weren't nearly healed.

Cue Share sitting in Steve's New York apartment, in his bed, eyes glaring at a wall. "I'm not a child." she mumbled to herself, knowing he could hear her. Hell, the blonde girl wanted him to hear her. Yes, they'd worked out some of their problems. But in the end, Sharon didn't know how to trust him. Could she trust him to protect her in a fight? Yes. Without a single doubt. Just when it came to her and him and their hearts... Sharon was simply terrified she was going to be left again.

"Rogers, what brings you to my humble abode? And by that I mean my extremely awesome and intricately built laboratory." 

Share quirked a brow, "can I help you, Steve?"