Franka's answering grin came instantly, even her eyes lit up, that she would finally get her hot shower cheered her up visibly. She was more relaxed inside this building than Hackett had ever seen her, and to be locked into a bathroom with an armed soldier apparently caused her no unease. She peered at her blood smeared reflection, pulled a face, met Hackett's eyes in the mirror, and raised an eyebrow. "Glad we agree on that one." She stepped away from the mirror and bent down to fumble with her wet shoelaces. The knots were so tight she could barely open them, and she hissed between her teeth in impatience. "You can take all the risks you want, but not where I'd have to clean up after you. I'd be really pissed if you got yourself infected, and had a nice little chase, smash and blood bathing session all over the house."<br/><br/>Looking up at the approaching woman, she grinned broadly, an echo of the carefree girl she once had been. She had finally managed to open the laces, straightened up and shook the wide open heavy boots off feet that looked surprisingly small now. "Sounds fatalistic rather, I'd say." Her cotton socks were soaked, too, an odd sight on someone like Franka, even more so in their blood stained, dirty state. They were striped in red, pink and white, the edge was ruffled, and rows of pretty bows, butterflies and cute Hello Kittie cat and bunny faces completed the picture. Franka looked at them with an amused expression, wiggled her toes and smirked over at Hackett. "Na? Jealous? Wait till you see my knickers!"<br/><br/>Her exasperation had disappeared with the promise of hot water, real shampoo, shower jelly, now she was all eagerness. She quickly opened her belt, unbuttoned her thick leather trousers and peeled out of the wet, clingy fabric. Compared to her socks, her panties looked old and hardly spectacular, simple black French knickers, but at least a nice fit. With the unconcerned air of one to whom the idea had never occurred that undressing before another woman might create the awkwardness of sexual undertones, Franka went about her business, struggled out of the trouser legs, pulled off her socks, dropped all of it right where she stood, and furiously scratched a fresh mosquito bite on her thigh with fierce concentration.<br/><br/>She saw Hackett cross her arms, caught some of the tension in her stance, and wondered what unpleasant things she wrestled with getting out this time. They stood just a few steps apart, and in the bright light of the room, they could see each other more fully and clearly than ever before. Franka studied Hackett's face with open directness. what she heard perplexed at first, but then the soldier's struggle for words and her embarrassment got under her skin. "It's alright. We're good. It's a damn tough job you've got there, a hell of a responsibility. These people, and no idea what you'd find here... And - I am an outsider. What fool would have trusted me right away? It's good to know you're smarter than that."<br/><br/>She smiled tentatively, felt she should say more, something meaningful, to show she appreciated Hackett's words, her sincerity. But what? "I - ahem... Well, ah - thank you." So much for that, she thought, I'll be damned if I'm not bloody brilliant at this sort of thing... Giving her attempt up as a lost cause, she rubbed her neck and looked around, for a change of subject as much as for an escape from the awkwardness that had gradually taken a hold of her. "I'd better hop under the shower. You prolly want to get back to the others quickly..." With one swift movement, she pulled the top over her head, rubbed it a few times over her wet hair, and dropped it onto the pile of clothes on which she stood.