Alec huffs out what might be a laugh if he weren't too Tough and Stoic for that sort of thing. (Around anyone but his fiancé, that is.) He copies her by glancing down the length of his own strange steampunk clothes, following the look with a hand because the black fabric obscured any particular holes.

His frock coat is not long for this world either, apparently. But better the coat than his skin.

"Alec." He tosses one of his knives into the air and catches it with his other hand in order to free up one to shake when she offers. "You're pretty good with that." You know, that stick. Alright, so maybe he's fishing for an explanation without trying to sound as outright nosy as he's being.