He would preen if he weren't still standing on the battlefield (so to speak). Honestly, there's a fierce sort of pride, of warmth, when she says "good boy". Embarrassingly enough. Not that it's something that needs to be discussed until later. When everything is wrapped up. "This is what we have to do for a warm-up anymore... What's the world coming to?"

Right, moving on.

Hunkering down, he picks up the whip again, and steps over to the conscious bandit. The others won't be moving any time soon, but this one might. It's not the best option, but it's what they have. So ... he sets about tying the guy up with it.

And if his hands freeze when she trips over his name, this way, neither of them have to pay attention. Archangel. He'd have to be an idiot not to read between those lines. It would be so much easier to attribute the slip to Omega. To his poorly done stint as a hero. But he can't. Not anymore. He clears his throat, forcing his voice, the echoes of it, to stay calm.

"I say we ask our new pet," he says instead. Purposefully drawing out the last word. And then roughly jerking the man to his feet. "Think he'd be willing to chat?"