This has gone beyond charming and into-- into something else, that he can't readily identify. Which is weird, because he's fairly emotionally adroit. Grief?? Lllloyalty??? Are those things? He tilts an ear back, perplexed and profoundly--something, but declines to comment on that specifically. Are contracts on napkins even legally binding?

"A week, huh. Guess we better get started then." He keeps most of the Doubt out of his voice. Was she always supposed to be here a week?

Sure, whatever, it's as good a goal as any, for all its unachieveability. Her motivations might not stand up to any logic based scrutiny, but more skills never hurt. Come to think of it, he's not sure why this is one she doesn't have.

"Just, uh, crack those eggs into a bowl," he says, sounding more like he's negotiating a hostage situation than giving instructions. "And then you can get your whisk on. Gently."