Daniel stands and joins him, head tilted sharply to one side as he inspects the fridge's contents, like trying to view the whole thing at a ninety-degree angle.

"I can work with that," he decides with a nod. "If you're up for letting me commandeer your kitchen."

He pulls out the aforementioned carton of eggs, flips it open, sets it on the counter by the stove, then goes back in to retrieve a carton of milk. He sniffs the contents briefly before depositing it beside the eggs, having apparently deemed it passable.

"You got onions?" he asks, moving with more confidence than he feels as he sets about looking for a pan.