[At least the amusement on his face makes her feel a little better about the insinuations she hadn't meant to make. What do they call it? A Freudian slip. But she doesn't think he's slipping at all with that "helping hand" line, and she can't help but chuckle. She feels less awkward, thankfully.]

There isn't much to canvass yet, fortunately.

[Or... unfortunately. Gods, she misses having a place to get good coffee.]

Until we figure out how to get home, we might as well try to live semi-comfortably. Anything you can think of might help.