His humor–wink included–causes her to almost roll her eyes though she refrains, simply raising an eyebrow instead. Really?
Still she'd said nothing more, simply nodded and then listened as he gave her instructions as to how to reach the safehouse.
As they'd walked to the elevator, she had scanned the area around her, gaze sharp and watchful. She'd just met him but in her mind duration has little to do with anything.
From the moment he jumped into her vehicle, he has been under her protection.
Of course, it was only a matter of time–as with most mortals–before the questions began and the nature of the question, likening her to a superhero, is what causes her to reflect upon the ways she had reacted to the entire situation.
Too calm. Too even. She'd created suspicion simply because she had been too preoccupied to force reactions as she usually would, hadn't pretended to be more human than she is. While she mentally berates herself, her expression remains mostly indifferent.
"You're welcome... Jai." There's a beat as she tilts her head to the side, allowing the faintest trace of amusement to enter her voice. "Superhero name? Well I don't know about that... but you can call me Mati."
The tightrope of half truths that she walks. Tell a mortal that your name is Maat and you'll get some strange looks ('like, the goddess...?'). Even her alternate name, Mayet, will occasionally raise eyebrows to those who know the connection. And so the only option left to her, as she can only speak in truths, is the name that her uncle had once called her...
Not wanting to dwell on the thoughts that would bring up, she is thankful when the doors of the elevator ding open and she can simply follow Agent Wilcox–Jai–to a door, keep watch around them as he unlocks it. Stepping inside just behind him, she closes the door and locks it, taking the opportunity to almost silently utter a word in Ancient Egyptian as a ward, set to warn her should Chaos approach.
This in place, she turns from the door and glances around at her new surroundings until her eyes fall on what looks like a medical kit. Good. She'll deal with that shortly.
First things first.
Reaching out, she firmly but carefully places a hand on his shoulder, the one belonging to his uninjured arm, and guides him to a chair.
"You need to sit down," she states, matter-of-fact, tone leaving no room for argument. "You said that you have keys for these cuffs, yes? Where?"