For a second, she's caught up in the sweetness of the gesture, in his simple concern for proceeding to volunteer for a thing like this in front of her, wordlessly asking her permission as subtly as he can without trying to arouse suspicion. It endears him to her all the more, and she finds herself gnawing on the inside of her cheek to try and force down the grin that's threatening to spread across her cheeks. If that doesn't give her away, she's not sure what will.

She inevitably settles for gently resting her hand on his arm, cupping the underside before her fingers sweep back to graze his elbow and she drops her hold on him altogether, nodding once. "It's okay," she quietly promises. "You should probably be the one to - "

This would normally be such an amusing situation - and she can't ignore the part where it is pretty hilarious, but there's so many undertones entwined throughout that it makes the situation way heavier than it would probably be otherwise. As grateful as she is to see Joan, some kind of authority to refer to, she can't help but wonder what it means for everything else.