It's refreshing for Caspar, too. Too often he has to hold his tongue, tamp down on his sarcasm, not say what he wants to say because any time he's too honest, people get bent out of shape. Not that he's terribly successful at that, anyway. It's easier to not say anything, to fall back into the old and familiar habit of keeping his face a blank mask, his mouth turned down just enough to discourage anyone from talking to him, Cylon or human.

Josh gets him. He's human and immature and has committed the mortal sin of loving flannel, but he gets him.

The comment on teal makes him smile.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have great taste." He shakes his head a little at the question. "No, dark colors have their place. But there's no reason to blend in if you don't have to. Besides, if I can't literally punch people in the eyes, I can at least let my suit do it for me."

He grins to show he's joking. Mostly.