"Have at it," Elliot waved a hand in dismissal, he could have that little victory. Heels had been on her feet less than five times, and it was always because someone made her. Same for skirts. Anything that made it difficult to fight in or get under a car was a no go, "I like my women a little less bony but I'm sure you'd suit someone. And you're lucky I was told to play nice, I've hurt people for calling me that." It was a very casual threat, especially because against her better judgment she was actually sort of enjoying this. It was nice to trade casual insults back and forth with someone, especially when everything else around here gleamed unnaturally.
Chicago had her hackles raising, suspicion flaring like a bonfire. Of all the cities. The buttons comment was weird though, and that distracted her, and she found herself glancing down at the buttons on her jacket. In his defense, they actually were recovered from an antique mall when her's turned out to be more fragile than the rest of the jacket, but still. It was fucking weird, okay?
"What the fuck? Are you high? Who notices that kind of shit, and tries to buy bits of strangers' clothes?" Her hand not holding the cigar rose up automatically to cover the top button closest to her collarbone, because of course she had gone the extra mile to button every single one. But then an idea occurred to her, "I'll tell you what, I'll give 'em to you if you drop the personal questions for the duration of my stay." Man, Ethan really was rubbing off on her (heh) normally she wouldn't have turned this into a negotiation to make herself more comfortable while they were here, since possibly decking a coworker wasn't the best for long term employment.