Irene takes the offered spoon and lets the mask slip slightly, intentionally-- "You don't seem touch and go to me," she says easily and softly, companionably, keeping her eyes trained on her for just a second too long before she cracks a smile and returns to her act with just a hint of self-aware wryness.

We both know what's going on, don't we? But it's more fun this way.

"I'll let you crack it, shall I?" she says, tapping the spoon against her lower lip, half thoughtful and half flirtatious.