[He's not sure how to reciprocate the hug all that well, his arm crooked around her and palm flat against her back. He stares off past her shoulder once she speaks, knowing just what she's talking about with a cold twist of his fake body's gut. He wants to protest but - they don't have many options. They barely have a few.]
I can talk to Cisco. Make a move on things by the next morning's greeting, maybe a little after that. It'd be dangerous, Mary. But we have no other choice.