Roy looked up from the box he was packing, listening to the door. Bad guys never knocked, but he was jumpy about things. Sliding the safety off quietly, he passed the boarded up living room window and peeked into the door's viewer before quickly opening the door. "You got the message, good. Are you alright?" he asked and swung the door open for her. He put the safety back on and stuffed his gun in his ankle holster. "Need a drink?"