The smile, however terse, read as a good start to Sitwell, who welcomed, "Miss Maximoff, come in!" with a wave of his arm and a wide open door that was supposed to be grand, but quickly became stilted and poorly executed and he really should have practiced or maybe limbered up before she arrived. Okay, no, this was still going okay. A smaller, more manageable wave invited the Avenger to make herself comfortable, his smile something of a grimace but a well-meaning one, and Sitwell got himself together to move swiftly to the next task on his action plan.
"Coffee or tea? Or something else?" he offered, moving into the kitchen himself where some fumbling and a little crashing happened, but was quickly followed by, "It's alright!" With drinks set to brew, he returned with a tray of assorted, well, foods of no obvious persuasion, which obviously gave him some regret once he set it down on the coffee table and he had to clear his throat to explain himself. "I didn't know if you would eat or..." he started, hand waving vaguely toward the windows which might have indicated the awkward mid-meal hour, sun set so early in the winter, but they weren't only covered by curtains, they were completely blacked out in a distinctly permanent way. Maybe he shouldn't have drawn attention to them. Sitwell's hand snapped back to his chest where his gestures were restrained as he continued, "So there's, so, well, this side is all vegan, if that's, you know, and this side has a lot of cheese, sorry if you don't like cheese, and that's, um, well that has nuts in it..." She seemed like a smart lady, she could ask the questions she really needed to. Sitwell nodded, apologetic for that, and made his way around the table to sit back on the couch, offering, "Please," to his tray.