Sigma clears his throat, diverts his eyes as though embarrassed to be seen through - but the corner of his mouth curls into a knowing smirk. Don't mention it. Albert had already paid him a similar favor, after all. He senses a solidarity connecting them that he cannot explain, something beyond the crucible of cybernetics. Perhaps it was that Sigma knew how it felt to choose between a calling and a lover? His expression settles, cybernetic eye whirring nervously.

The prospect of becoming a Capitol wind-up toy makes Sigma almost sick to his stomach, so he decides he might focus on making a once-ally a permanent one. "Albert Heinrich. ...I saw your husband," he begins tentatively. For the first time between them, his voice is soft. "It is a shame. I understand how difficult it is to be separated, truly." And this, too, is the only way he can voice his condolences with the proverbial microphone at his neck and a gun to his head. He dares not study Albert's expression. There are some things that strangers are not supposed to see.