[Hank tosses Connor another incredulous look, albeit brief.]

Obviously. And, I mean — hell. If we run out of room? We’ll figure it out.

[Connor could start giving some away, maybe. If he wanted. Although part of Hank is selfish and would rather hoard them — who knows when there might not be any more? — but if they manage to fill up a whole apartment...]

It’s homey, y’know? [The painting itself, as well as the thought of more.]