"Don't look. One of us has to keep watching the street."
Switch rolled her eyes in Apoc's direction in mock defiance and turned back to her original position, ever watching the desolate street from her spot in the door frame. Dust, broken things. Behind her, she caught once again the sound of something thin and crinkly being manipulated. Paper? The sound was crisp, like cool spring the week after the last snow, and it made the ghosts of little sparks dance on her tongue.
"Finished. Eyes ahead, but give me your hand."
Carefully, she transferred the gun to her left hand – the perks of being trained to almost full ambidexterity – and stretched her right hand out in the general direction of her companion.
Something light and slightly edged was placed into her palm. Gingerly, she closed her fingers around it and brought it into her field of vision, an exercise in complete trust clashing loudly with the rest of their situation and surroundings, blending weirdly into her alertness. Interesting. File that thought for later.
It was a paper crane, not perfect but sharp in its white creases, a tiny cloud made of edges and wings as she held it against the blue sky. She chuckled with glee. "Lovely. Thanks, I guess?"
She wanted to keep touching the edges, enjoy the corners against the first joints of her fingers, but tucked it away under her holster, then passed back the weapon into its usual hand almost as an afterthought. Still on the job, she told herself. "Too bad it'll disappear when we get out."
A smug voice in the back of her mind suggested hiding the crane in their spot, leaving behind a secret message of their time here, an artifact of their odd human habits; but she knew she had to resist. She would have to ask Trinity about the exact mechanics of what did and did not dissolve automatically when brought in from the loading program and then left behind in the Matrix, not touching any of their bodies or technical equipment.
"I'll just make more."