She leans back herself, the perfect picture of patience. After all, while she trusts the hotel staff enough with this, there are other guests, and the last thing she or he needs is to be caught making out like teenagers in an elevator. She's far from that age and that excuse won't work for her.

It's not a long wait, all in all. Though perhaps to Chuck it feels longer, as they slide up the floors. The elevator stops finally, door opening with a ding and Sasha leads the way out, and up the hall to a room. It's not huge, nor is it opulent but there's a bed and that will do. The bed which she throws her bag on, slipping carefully out of her jacket, mindful of her shoulder, before she speaks.

"What are... your limits?"