Elle doesn't flinch, but it's a near thing. She only barely manages to keep herself from doing it. She still doesn't know who he is, doesn't even know his name, but between his clear disappointment in her and the way he's mocking the amnesia... Elle just -- She... She doesn't even know what to do any more. She wants to cow, she wants to fight that instinct and hold her ground, she needs to not let it show how much this is getting to her -- How does he know her? He has to be mistaking her for someone else. He has to be. He guessed amnesia right based on his own assumptions, not because it's obvious, or something. That's all. That's all it has to be.

... and yet, despite how she's trying to convince herself of that, it isn't working. Because she's answering his questions without any kind of preamble or resistance, giving in, going with... this fucked up flow.

"New Vegas," she mumbles. She catches herself here, too, and repeats herself louder. "I'm from New Vegas." Kind of. "I was out in the desert, on my way to visit some friends..." It's a good thing she can refer to the Think Tank as friends and still be truthful. "I'm... I'm really sorry, but I've spent the last year in the Mojave, and I really just -- don't know who you are or what you're talking about. And it's not because of -- amnesia." For once.

(Oh, how she doesn't even know she's partially wrong...)