"That would be nice. We'd make better time on the way out." Danse is just going to sit right down alongside him, taking advantage of the temporary pleasure of having normal legs again, because it is not actually that nice to be Some Kind Of Fish even when it's useful. But considering the drawbacks of not being one, he'll count himself the luckier of them anyway.

It feels good to see Deacon smile right now, and Danse has to examine that unexpected realization for a moment. He hadn't realized, until just now, that he would have cared about such a thing. But it's not difficult to remind himself of the mitigating circumstances; he thinks he'd probably be glad to see a smile on anyone who'd been thrown for that painful of an emotional loop earlier, unless he really hated them. And he doesn't.

For now, Deacon's a friendly enough acquaintance to make the silence feel pleasant as they rest. That's more than good enough.