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[And she's approaching from about his 4-o-clock, one hand on her pistol until she's close enough to recognize that he's sitting rather than crouching. At that point, she's crossing her arms and casually offering:] Only a couple of things sit that still. [She's stepping up beside him now, though she's still a good six or seven feet away.] Statues and snipers.

[Though since it's obvious by now that he's neither, this is more of a 'just so you know, you worry any armed individual in sight distance' than any sort of accusation.]

[Brody isn't particularly fond of armed strangers coming up on him in the dark, but if she wanted him dead, she probably wouldn't be striking up a conversation. Probably.

So, although he stares at her blankly for a full second, his lips eventually twitch into something like a smile. However, his brow is still furrowed with uncertainty and, although he isn't looking at the weapon, he's very aware of it.]

Maybe I'm in deep contemplation. [He shrugs a shoulder.] Or, I'm a statue.

[Compared to her usual, this is closer to unarmed than armed. Not that it'd make much of a difference to him, probably. And though he's not looking at her pistol, she'd be a fool to think he isn't paying attention to it.]

The statues sure are lively, around here. [Because if he's making a joke, why not humor him?

On a more serious note, though:] If you're out here to be alone, I can leave you to that. Really, I was just making sure you weren't out here with night-vision and a rifle. [It's nothing against you, Brody, that's just a normal weekday for Shepard.]

[He chuckles quietly. So, she doesn't recognize him. Or, if she does, she's pretending not to, and he's happy to play along. Not everyone watches the news, after all.]

Not tonight. [He leans toward her a little, as if confiding.] Anyway, we work with a partner and mine... isn't here, so. You're safe.

[She tries, but her news is intergalactic. Not that something like that's going to come into play because lol it's a little complex for SWS voicetesting.

EITHER WAY, she seems equal parts amused and casually intrigued by his words.]

Thought I pegged you for military. [But up until now, she hasn't had anything solid by way of proof.] With all due respect, though, I'm thinking I'd be safe either way.

[The smile is tight, almost pained, but he maintains it, and his eyes give nothing away.]

Probably. He's dead and I'm retired. Which I guess is pretty much the same thing; neither of us are much of a threat.

[Lying to strangers is even easier than lying to his wife or his children, and more enjoyable. The smile is becoming more genuine.

He nods toward her weapon, finally acknowledging it.] What about you? I haven't been kept up to date the last few years, but that doesn't look standard issue.

[Her jaw tenses at the first part--she's been military long enough herself that she knows exactly how that is. The 'dead partner' part, not the 'retired' part. Just between you and me, she's more of a 'keep fighting or die trying' sort of woman. Either way, she's not going to bring it up. He doesn't want some stranger's sympathy, no matter how much she understands.

At his question, she's glancing down to her pistol, then back at him.] Ten years formal military, six months freelance. [She's also not going to bring up that this is the least of her arsenal. This is a conversation, not a pissing contest.]

[He lifts his eyebrows.]

Freelance? [This is getting into dangerous territory, and he kind of likes it. Might as well; every day is dangerous territory these days.] I wouldn't say that too loudly. Some people get a little nervous about that kind of talk.

[Her eyes narrow just a little, but in appraisal more than disapproval.]

Like I said.

[She's crouching now, setting her palms on the grass.]

I'm not so worried.

[And she's shifting her feet out from under her to sit down too, almost as if to emphasize her point.

Shepard glances his way a second, though.]

Unless by 'some people' you mean 'you'. In which case...

[She's sliding her pistol out of the holster (with two fingers and the others curled in, DEFINITELY not a position she can get a grip on the pistol with, and thus theoretically utterly harmless) and underhands it about four feet to her opposite side.]

There. Breathe easy.

[Brody isn't going to make the mistake of trusting her, but she seems all right. Guarded. He gets that.]

I didn't mean me. Some people, though. [He shrugs.] Freelance is a good way to put it, though. Sounds harmless, if you don't think about it too much.

[If she wanted to sound harmless, she wouldn't wear her pistol on the outside of her pants. But clearly, he's seeing it from a slightly different perspective than the one she's seeing it from, and that strikes her as wrong but she can't put her finger on why. So he's getting fixed with that appraising stare for a few more seconds, though sitting down seems to have given her a slightly more casual demeanor altogether. Then, abruptly:]

You should've left the hiding behind when you retired. [A little bit of a headshake, and she's looking up at the sky now.] A guy doesn't put years of his life into being the strongest goddamn thing he can be just to turn around and put just as many into convincing the world he's weak. [She quickly amends:] Harmless. That's the word you used, isn't it?

No, I guess he probably doesn't.

[Oh, if Brody couldn't handle this kind of thing... Well, a lot of things would be different. He'd probably be dead, for one thing.]

He does get to a point where he doesn't give a fuck about proving it anymore. Anyway, the wife prefers the harmless version. I get the feeling you're not married.

[She echoes:] 'I get the feeling you're not married.' [A half-laugh.] Did someone put out a memo? Because I get that an awful lot.

[After a second, she offers another slight headshake, dismissing her question--it wasn't a serious one anyway.] No, I'm not married. But I guess that would change a few things, wouldn't it? [She can't quite process voluntarily becoming 'harmless' just because someone liked her better that way, but then again, she can't quite process being harmless in general. It's just... not something people look for, in the woman out to save their galaxy.]

A few things.

[He shrugs a shoulder.] I don't know. You probably have the right idea. You go over there for a few years and when you get back, your kids don't even recognize you and this girl you've known since you were a teenager doesn't know anything about you anymore. And if she did... [Yeah, he doesn't want to think about what it would be like if Jessica really knew him now.]

But it's easier on them--family, friends--it's easier on them if they don't know you. You can call that weak, but. At least when you're out there in the shit, it seems straight-forward. Kill them or they kill you. It's different now. Don't always know your objective. [He pauses.] Or your enemy.

[And she hates how much sense he's making, how much she can relate, because that means maybe she miscalculated a little. She didn't factor in a family he might've left behind. She's not used to soldiers having something to go home to. Her squad doesn't. She sure as hell doesn't.

Either way, she's soaking it all in, casually watching the sky as she sorts her thoughts out in her head.

Eventually, she confesses:] Guess I'm in over my head on this one. Family... It's not exactly my area of expertise.

But I do know this: When you don't know your enemy, all you've got left is to weed out who isn't. Because when it's you against the world, the demons catch up to you just a little bit faster.