Asami reaches up to slide her helmet off, shaking her hair out as she does. It's sticking up a little; she reaches up to smooth it down automatically, a force of habit. She's been driving for a long time, she's used to helmet hair. Her body feels a little sweaty, in a good way, in a hard-job-done way, and she lets out a content sigh. There is nothing, nothing like just letting go and driving, in the end. "What do you think?" Asami asks, turning to look at Iroh. "Not bad, huh?"
He's staring at her.
"You want a go next time?" she asks, smiling. "There's room for two."
He keeps staring. The faintest brush of pink is starting to show on his cheeks. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling; he looks younger than before like that, and a lot less... impressive. Ah. So it's like that.
Well, never let it be said Asami Sato looks an attractive gift horse in the mouth.
"Uh," he manages finally, "sure. Good. I mean- that'd be good. Fun. Right?" he asks, helplessly.
"Right," Asami says, smiling reassuringly. She'd smirk, but he's so endearing like this that it's hard to muster it up. "Fun. C'mon, let me find you a helmet."
He trails after her like a turtleduck after its mother, and Asami lets her giggle escape this time.