Lambert's getting accustomed to tuning Strange's bitching out, having recently confirmed that 90% of it doesn't requite any of his input or consideration and that the magician will carry on regardless of what he says or doesn't say. He's already comfortably deaf to the mage's complaints, holding the door open for him to step inside with a desperately bland expression on his face, though he blinks and glances between his sister and Strange when the mage suddenly turns chirpy.

What the hell?

"You two know each other?"