She catches that grin but doesn’t feed into it, happy for Sir Look-But-Don’t-Touch to suspect she’s not one of those people without having her confirm it. Kenzi might have grown accustomed to not having to beg, borrow and steal to survive these days, but she wasn’t a stranger to having to struggle her way through life. Sure, she might not like the idea of having to chow down on potatoes for the foreseeable future but when you were hungry? You didn’t much care so long as it was edible… and even that was up for negotiation.

Well, already with that description, it was a step-up (or six) from her most recent digs.

“I’ve had worse.” Shrugging it off. She might love the clubhouse but when you had to share it with a Succubus whose bedroom saw more action than the starting five of the Lakers? You learned to appreciate walls. Insulation. Ceilings that didn’t rain dust down upon you.

“What’s your definition of crazy weather? Rain of frogs or just… actual, bad weather?” The question asked in all seriousness. There wasn’t a lot of amphibian rain back home but when it came to the Fae? Very little surprised Kenzi anymore.

“Oh, honey. Rarely do I get lucky.” Only too happy to play into the double entendre. “But I can smell alcohol a mile away. Just give me five minutes and a deck of cards.” She wasn’t stupid enough to believe that anyone was going to just give it to her if it was as scarce as all that.