Of course he's more than capable of doing a load of laundry... But now and then everyone needs a hand, and she had one to offer. There's not much she can do to actually help-- not in a deep or meaningful way-- but she can do this.

She smiles at him as he comes into the room, pleased to see him-- doubly pleased, maybe, that he's taken the opportunity. He looks lighter. More like-- well, like himself.

"I wouldn't say no to lockpicks," she says with a shrug, putting her ridiculous phone into the pocket of her blazer. It barely fits; how do people deal with this?