Numbers isn't expecting any visitors. He's been standing in his kitchen, staring blankly at the concerningly empty fridge when he hears the knock at the door. His head jerks to the side, eyebrows raised in surprised, before he slams the fridge shut and staggers to the entrance. Before he gets there, he takes a moment to comb his fingers through his hair and straighten his posture. With confidence, he strides forward and opens the door.

Ah. It's the...astrophysicist? Engineer? The woman from the far-flung future, according to her testimony at the dinner party. Numbers never actually introduced himself at the party--mostly because he was too preoccupied with ranting about a potential revenge plot against Norman Pollock. Numbers raises an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. He's dressed casually, wearing a blue button-up and slacks and shoes inside the house--which might be an egregious sin for some.

"Maybe." His tone is polite and subdued. It's definitely a contrast to his previous behavior at the party. "What is it?"