<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">Her quarters were her sanctuary - a safe place for her to retreat to when things simply grew to be too much and she couldn’t think of one person that she had brought back there. Ever. And when she thought about it, she had never thought about taking someone to her quarters. It would almost be liking opening her soul up to someone - at least that is how she looked at it. If you wanted to learn more about a person, just look at where they lived. You could learn a lot that way. What their personality was like, what interests they had, what kind of mentality they possessed. All that without ever having to ask a question.<br/><br/>No wonder then that the thought of bringing him to her quarters actually had her feeling anxious. There was a lot that she did not share with others - well, alright, more than a lot. But if she was going to work with him, the walls had to come down a little bit. “Ve can go to quarters of mine. It is quiet there.” It was a big step outside of her comfort zone to invite him, but in the interest of making the crucible work, she had to sacrifice some of her comfort, yes? Besides, the cafeteria was the only other place to go to and she really did not like going there. Too many people that stared and the random materializing of people tended to stretch her nerves just a little too much.<br/><br/>The weight of his hand on her shoulder brought a small flinch, those somber eyes flicking up at him before a weak smile was offered, dainty fingers lifting to tug lightly at the thin long sleeved shirt closer to her neck. It was a bid to hide something from him though she had learned long ago how to make such moves seem casual - normal. <br/><br/>Turning, she started down the hall, leading him quietly through the maze of corridors and up the elevator to the floor her room was on. It wasn’t hard to memorize, nor was it long before she had the key card out to unlock the door and open it. The small room was organized to the point of fault - nothing was out of place and every drawer was labeled to tell what was inside of it. The small bed was meticulously made, the books on the shelves arranged from largest to smallest. It was a sterile environment that told everything and nothing about her.<br/><br/>No pictures of family hung on the walls or sat on the flat surfaces, no posters of things she liked hung on the walls either. It was bland - and she kept it that way for a reason. “Ze privy iz there if you need. I vill get plate and glass for you.” The most telling aspect of the whole room was the fact that there was nothing of that seemed to be what most would consider ‘relaxing’. </span></span></div>