He snorts once, and shrugs; she can disagree if genius if she likes, doesn't make her right! (...well, she is right, but who can argue with that propped up ego?)

"She wanted to learn. I'm willing to teach," he says simply picking up one of the scraps to dance over his knuckles; he had long nimble fingers. Good for a con man -- if he ever had the patience enough for a proper con. He hasn't, in a while. Not flashy enough. Not amazing enough. "You?"