There's not really a word exchanged, just Leonard holding the door to his room open so she can walk in. Of course, she'll have her own room, but it feels right to let her in here. Perhaps especially because their other roommates - and their various, numerous pets - weren't allowed inside.

The room is relatively barren. The bed is big enough for two people, in theory. There's one side that looks slept in. There's a desk with several brochures piled on top of it, most of them from art galleries or museums. Everything more interesting is in the drawers and everything even more interesting hidden even more carefully. He's not about to leave his heist plans out in a house full of white hats.

There aren't any pictures and the walls are empty, white, apart from a few scorch marks. There's a lighter on the nightstand for no discernible reason and some books piled next to it. "Home sweet home. Come in, sis."

First he closes the door, then he makes sure to lock it and then he steps up to her, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "Just got done with something, actually."

That said he reaches for her ear, not quite touching, but a slight of hand later and while pretending that magic tricks like pulling something out of someone's ear aren't the least cool thing anyway, Leonard offers her a pair of golden earrings on his palm.

"Still your style?"

"Perfect fit." Might have looked overdone on just about anyone else, but she was definitely making it work, as he'd known she would. Maybe he is biased in his own way. Whatever. He's just happy to see her smile.

"Didn't have anyone in mind. They were shiny." Who needs more reason than that? Certainly not him. He ends up sitting on the other side of the bet, one foot propped up on the mattress and the other still on the floor, leaning back in what is his version of comfortable. "Now they're yours."

"What?" He frowns before looking at the lighter so he can make the connection, then he just shakes his head. "Nah. Just pocketed it somewhere, you know how it is."

Compulsive stealing. Although right now, it's mostly lying that he's doing, but it's not a lie he'd even consider feeling guilty over. Yes, fire make him think of someone and there aren't a lot of recommended ways to grieve over leaving people behind, so this works as good as any.

"What job did they stick you with?" In his head he already goes over what money he has at the moment, just to figure out how much he can give her, so she can get settled. Force of habit.

"I'm a Zamboni driver." It's very much in his tone that he considers that to mean that she has lost any right to complain about her job. But it doesn't surprise him that their jobs fit together. He has come to expect that kind of coordination from this place. "I don't know what you'll do with it, but we're in Florida. It's hot. So, personally, I just never let anyone else into the ice rink and lie down on the ice eating popsicles."

It was a better way to pass the time than anything that involved actually being exposed to the Florida weather.

"I'm tan enough." It's a contest he's likely to win, because Leonard barely even smiles, giggling isn't really something high up on his list. Especially not with how he's feeling right now, with how he's been feeling for the past few months. Just being able to see Lisa again touches on the parts of him that he's been trying to push back. "I'll just take vitamin D drops to make up for the deficiency."

How health conscious of him. "Kids ain't that bad."

"You could shave it," he offers, obviously teasing, in response to apparently reading her thoughts. He gets his hair from his mother, the most obviously black thing about him, but the reason he keeps it shaved is that little curls look adorable on him and that doesn't go well with his image.

Her plea makes him smirk, which might not be the reaction she's going for. "Nah, sorry. I got my plate full." Which he might eventually share with her, but right now he doesn't have anything concrete in the works. "You met any of our roommates yet?"

"Yeah." Where does he even start with that? He glances towards the door, which is closed - as almost always. He doesn't welcome his roommates into his room, not that they seem very eager to come in anyway. "Gonna sound a bit weird for a minute there, sis, but keep an open mind. The guys we're rooming with, they're from alternate universes. So somewhat familiar, but different."

Lifting a hand, he counts them off on his fingers. "There's James Jesse, but he ain't like the psycho from back home. He's harmless by comparison. Annoying, but even a good guy these days. All of our roommates are. Reformed." He lifts another finger as he continues. "Hartley Rathaway. Not sure if you've ever heard of him back home, used to be heir to the Rathaway family, before they disowned him for being gay. Never met him, just came across him in research. The one here is nice enough. Idealist, socialist, very philanthropic. Nice hair."

Finally, the third finger. Last but not least. "Mick's here. Not our. A different one."

Apparently that's all he intends to say on that particular subject without prompting.

"With those three?" He pauses, actually considering, then just offers a shrug. "Don't joke about wanting to play Monopoly with Rathaway. He goes by Piper, by the way. Pied Piper." Is there any actual danger coming from any of them? Len looks at his sister, wondering just how any of this would affect her. He's not an expert on emotions, not exactly his forte.

"Mostly harmless. Mick is... sweet." Adorable, really. So different and still Mick somehow, with undeniable similarities, even putting the pyromania aside. "They couldn't get over how I look for a long time, so that might be a thing with you too."

"You'll see." Honestly, Len even considers the Mick they both are familiar with to be sweet sometimes. Sweeter than he is with ease, not that there's much of a contest there. But in case of the Mick here, it's just an undeniable fact.

As for what was wrong with his looks? Leonard smirks, because what else can he really do? "Too good-looking."