Carol had no idea what was going on in Rand's head, otherwise she might assuage him his concern about her (apparently) going cockadau in a fit of rage. She loved this country and the military was a close second - she had nothing but utmost respect for the uniform and the chain of command. So, if her superiors told her to sit, that's what she was going to do - sit and not kill anyone.
Her eyes narrowed a fraction as Dan powered up his hand. She hadn't paid much attention to the super-human population, something she was going to have to correct in the future now that she was one of them. She couldn't help but note the similarities to her concussive blasts, the way the energy pooled around his hand and wondered if it hurt, likes hers did, the way the very bone felt like it was on fire.
"Kung fu? What, like Bruce Lee? A little 'Enter The Dragon'?"
She snorted a bit of a chuckle through her nose, which wasn't conducive to chin-ups, not when you wanted your abs to be tight to accomplish the task. She asked, dropping from the bar and letting herself hang there for a moment.
"That's generous, don't you think? Uh, no," she said almost proud of the fact that she was ten to fifteen pounds heavier than his estimate. What kind of woman was this? Clearly not the effeminate type. Danvers was a soldier first, woman second and never the twain shall meet - something she'd blame being raised with brothers on.
"Lightweight." Then, marbling her resolve once more, Carol clenched her jaw and resumed the pull-ups. "But you're right about the hand."