Acacia regarded the sun beam with vague curiousity. She'd seen police baton's before, but not one like this, it was somehow more lethal looking, but with guns (loaded ones that is) wielded couldn't see how it could really be useful except in the hands of a strong person. Perhaps someone from the wrestling club (was there a wrestling club? She'd never thought to ask). Then her eyes widened.
Instruction manual! She hadn't even thought of that, and immediately dropped to the floor to begin rooting through her bag, again. Clothes, diabetes kit (shit, what was the time? She had no idea what her glucose levels were like, probably too high since, unless the... people, whoever they were, had injected her with insulin while she was unconscious, something she seriously doubted, she wouldn't have had any for... hours. Generally she was on a pretty loose regimen, injecting as much as she needed with regards to how much she was about to eat or exercise, important in her life, and that would be important now), a small notebook and pen, half a pack of chewing gum, anything useful taken away, and no instruction manual.
"Damn," she muttered, sitting back on her heels, "of course, that would be too easy," she said, surprised at finding her voice shaking on the verge of tears, She sniffed and wiped her eye with her left forearm, before leaning forwards to close the bag again, defeated. Her fingers lingered over the kit, debating whether to test her glucose levels now and reveal her weakness, to risk it and do it later. She chose to risk it, if she were to suddenly faint she hoped Roman would see her bracelet and know how to act. How good was he at biology? Acacia had no idea. She zipped the bag up, leaving the kit inside, for now.
"I think they just wanted to see the dumb blonde struggle with a gun," she said irritably, while she weighed up Roman's offer of opening the 'breach', whatever that might be, so that she might be able to load it. The gun was entirely useless to her while she couldn't load it, other than some intimidation purposes as had apparently worked before. And it was useless to Roman if she gave it to him to open, seeing as she would still be holding the rounds. After a pause, looking both at the gun, then at Roman, she held it tentatively towards him to take.
"Thanks," she said, her voice a little more steady. "I promise not to shoot you," she added with a shaky laugh, though meaning what she said. Actually, she didn't have any intention of shooting anyone, the thought of doing that terrified her.