Mr. and Mrs. Smith... The hotel clerks look gave away the fact that person didn't believe the name. Well, who wouldn't? She kept close to Mr. Nice while they were in the lobby and in the way up into that room. Sleep was the last thing on her mind. After witnessing four deaths, who would? Well, she also did slice through a man's ankle, knowing that image would be stuck in her head for a while.<span style="font-style: italic">Not as bad as the time your brother broke his arm and the bone stuck out...</span>She told herself this, knowing she had seen worse.<br/><br/>The small hacker walked into that lavash hotel room with him, relaxing at the bag boy left. She was soon reminded that she didn't have a change of clothing, and she realized that compared to him, she probably looked like a slob. She took off her coat as she watched him, the black tank top underneath clinging to her slender frame, the fabric pulled against her large breasts. She listened to his suggestion of sleeping, though after a few minutes of failing, she just gave up on it.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"Blackjack?"</span>She smiled a bit at the suggestion, stretching her arms over her head slightly. "I never learned how to play poker." She said with a small laugh. "Blackjack sounds like fun to me." She added.