How the frick is he so chill? Seriously? She squeezes his hand back and mentally thanks whoever stuck him with her for their epic judgement on that call. The walk home is filled with much lighter conversation as they make their way back into potential earshot of whoever-the-fuck. It helps. Her eyes are only the slightest bit red and puffy when they get home, but she audibly chalks it up to allergies.

Outwardly, she's looking almost as calm as Rumlow. Internally she's trying not to think about Bo while simultaneously clinging to the memories she's gotten back. Dwelling on it isn't going to do anyone any good. If Bo is here, she hasn't seen her yet. If she's not here, finding her is going to be something Kenzi wants to keep quiet.

There's also the inevitable talk she needs to figure out a covert way to have with Bucky and Steve. Something tells her speaking in Russian won't make much of a difference.

Kenzi is grateful to be home. Home. It kind of feels more like she's just playing house these days, but there's still that element of belonging that she feels here more than anywhere else. She unlocks the door and shoves it open, trudging heavily over the threshold and kind of just wanting to curl up on the couch or in bed. Emotionally exhausted much?

"Can I just faceplant into a soft surface or do we have plans?"