She's watching him out of the corner of her eye while he puts the pistol back together, until halfway through the motion the rifle she's holding is lowered and her full attention is on his hands. Although she had since figured out how modern handguns were built, they were still different enough from her flintlocks to pique her curiosity.

Then he mentions having her on her knees, and she can't help the incredulous laugh that bursts out of her. "Wrong again, doesn't fuckin' matter what way y'got me or how loud I scream, I'm still runnin' things." So she thinks, anyway. Putting the rifle back down, Apollo then seats herself on the edge of the table where there's a spot of free space, crossing her legs and leaning over the pile of weaponry as she continues to inspect all of his toys. "Suggestion sounds like an awfully soft word though, doesn't it?"