There's something to be said for swill. Natasha likes a cocktail and expensive liquor as much as the next person. But when the chips are really down? She wants cheap beer or bottom shelf vodka. It reminds her of being on the run in the middle of nowhere in Eastern Europe. It tastes a little bit like freedom.

"Bullshit," she answers without hesitation, her smile matching his. "Isn't this coming from the guy that - what was it, ripped off the arm of his jacket and jumped out of a plane without a chute?" Oh yeah. Sam told her all about that.