Her eyes clock the look. She looks down at her own holster and, amused, looks back up at him. It stays there for two heartbeats before it shutters, her expression fading back into something assessing. There's a visible process going on in the way she stands there, thinking something out, and part of that is on purpose. There are times when she can't spare the energy to make a conversation comfortable with a stranger. This, despite the setting, isn't one of those times.

"Think the wall is sturdy enough to keep it out?" But it's mostly a rhetorical question, considering the fact she unholsters her gun and— offers it to him grip-first.

Natasha adds, mildly, "Try not to miss. Or dinner's on you."