Sinclair shrugs, "Suit yourself," and goes back to the dishes.

Come to think of it, he can't remember the last time he had a guest in his place. Which is probably why he doesn't have anything to accommodate one. Or maybe it's the other way around. At this point he can't think of anyone he would want to have over anyway. It used to be that he could go other places when he wanted a little company, but there isn't really much company to be had anymore.

He makes a mental note to keep his house topside better stocked for guests than his apartment down here. Just in case.