He thinks he sees a flicker in her glance. His answer must have been wrong, but he’s not sure why. Clearly she thinks it’s needed intelligence for him - and Steve, quietly observing while he makes inroads on breakfast, must agree - but isn’t it a violation of her privacy? Then again maybe it’s not since he wrote them originally. Or the man he was before the Winter Soldier did, anyway, the man who knew how to laugh and love and care and who never murdered any of his friends.

“Okay,” is all he says. “If you’re sure.”