[ Becky lets out a huge sigh of relief when Richard finally opens the door and doesn't even notice his haggard appearance until after she's pulled him into a rib-cracking bear hug. She might be a little overzealous with the physical affection, but she's immensely glad he's alright. Especially in this business.

She pulls away more prematurely than she'd like when she catches a whiff of the stench of Red Bull. Sure, she understands the need for caffeine — she dated Chuck for five months — but couldn't he at least drink something that doesn't smell so awful?

She's distracted from his state of being momentarily, his somewhat delirious flattery making her blush. This really isn't the time, Richard, she's supposed to be upset that you clearly haven't been taking care of yourself! ]

And you look awful.

[ She purses her lips into a pout, looking him up and down just to make sure he's not injured or anything. He mostly just looks exhausted. ]

He called me in the middle of a con. It's a miracle I even heard my phone ring. You know how awful the reception is at cons.

[ She sets her hands on his shoulders and attempts to guide him back toward the only bed in the room. ]

Anyway, come on, mister, we need to get you into bed.