Kyle tilts his head and is halfway into agreeing with her when the pot water spills over, jumping into the pan and almost immediately spitting hot oil in all directions. He turns down the heat on the boiling water, cursing under his breath and flicking his hand as a spot of oil lands on it. His expression tightens with the pain, not from the actual injury but from intruding memories that accompany it.

"Back up," he tells Alex, turning around to dig in a drawer for the lid to the pan. Kyle's great at delegating in a crisis, but only to people he knows and can trust to understand him. Otherwise, it's a hell of a lot easier for him to tackle the emergency himself when he can. In an effort to hide his brief trouble, he adds, "Hot oil bad."

Kyle manages to get the lid on the pan, the boiling water now simmering thanks to the lower heat. Then he turns to offer her a smile. "First, save yourself. Then save the food. Then the stove, I guess."