Then think about it like this: [Sombra draws her closer, pulling via the grip she's keeping on Amélie's arm, her fingers curling with a gentle pressure.]

We're stuck here for who knows how long, with no reliable way to get home. I could screw with you, sure, but if I did? I wouldn't get anything out of it.

[Her opposite hand slips in, fingers lacing through Amélie's own in a gentle show of sincerity- her eyeline dropping to watch the slow slide of her neon claws. Not focused, not malicious, just... there.]

We're an entire universe away from Talon, LaCroix. I've got no ploys.