The description of his arrival got a little quirk of a smile out of Eliot. He was doing his own conversational calculations — breaking things to someone gently had never been his strongest suit, but there wasn't any telling about the man's comfort level with things like magic and inter-dimensional travel. Best to err on the side of caution, no matter how non-freaked-out James appeared.

"Kind of in the middle of something," he echoed. "That's sort of how it works."

Actually — an idea. He reached into his pocket for the silver cigarette case, flipped it open, offering. "Smoke?"