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Deacon reached over and patted her on the head, scrunching up her hair a little as he did. He told her, "Good job on the supply run today," with the tone you'd use to praise a dog.
Surprisingly, she didn't swat him away or snap back at the sarcastic snide like he'd expected. Instead, she just sat there, letting him pet her, her eyes closed in contentment. It was too much for him and he told her so, "You're too much for me. Do you actually like that?" He kept going with the bit, genuinely amused, "Will you go do this dead drop for me if I tell you that you're a good girl?"
Her face suddenly turned red and her expression dropped into a pout, as she let out a huff. Her response was clearly flustered.
He wasn't sure what to do with that? It made him the slightest bit uncomfortable seeing how obviously she wore her emotions towards him and he really should have deflected it; but, spurred on by the invisible timer that measured a witty response against an awkward one, he made the split second decision to carry on the bit.
"Oh, what's wrong Coco? Did someone step on your tail?" He cooed at her, reaching over again to muss up the back of her hair.
Oh, wow — He didn't think she could get any more red than she already was, but apparently he was wrong.
As he'd said it, she'd continued holding her exaggerated pout — which he now realized was covering an embarrassed smile — staring down at their floor. But now, redder than a rotten tato, she looked up at him directly in the eyes, before darting away again. Then, without saying anything, she turned away and started walking off towards HQ.
Oof — A lot to unpack in that one...