That he had managed to navigate the question regarding his haircut without triggering concerns that his programming was faulty was an accomplishment of which Agent Barnes felt he might be proud. He had had the answer his handler wanted to hear, and he had found it without infuriating his handler in the process.
"Yes," he said, intentionally leaving off the sir. He could follow a simple command, couldn't he?
He wasn't actually sure that he had followed Agent Jefferson's description of the haircut he was about to receive. But he trusted that whatever his handler intended to do to his hair, it was clearly not going to be disagreeable. He seemed to put a significant amount of stock in personal appearance and hygiene, and as they shared their appearance, Agent Barnes was wiling to assume that this meant he would put a great amount of stock in Agent Barnes' personal appearance as well.
Agent Barnes reached into his holsters and one by one began to remove the weapons that seemed to offend his handler the most. Knives, grenades, and guns went down on the table in precise order. Nothing out of place, not even so much as a bullet out of line.
When he finished, he sat back in the chair and waited for Agent Jefferson to begin the haircut.