[ He'd probably be more apologetic about it if a. he knew how to be, and b. he realised precisely how deeply it was effecting her. Obviously, he can tell it's a big thing, but these versions of themselves don't actually know each other and it's hard enough working out the issues when he knows the ground he's standing on.

But hey, downstairs is more his element anyway. More distractions, he can play with his robots, look at his holograms, dis- and reassemble his car, let her look at stuff too, it'll be great. ] She builds awesome things. Some of them are over there, some of them are in cyberspace - [ gesturing, a flick of the wrist pulls up files in the air ] - and I don't. I think help makes stuff easier, not possible.