"Did I hear a 'yes' in there?" Tony asks, even though he obviously didn't. With over-the-top cheerfulness: "Great! I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." He gives Gene a teasing grin, but squeezes his shoulder comfortingly before getting up.

He vanishes downstairs to raid the communal fridge, and returns several minutes later with some kind of poultry, salad, a baked root that approximates a baked potato, and a few small fruits. Everything is cold except the baked fauxtato, which he'd tossed in the oven for a bit, on the theory that cold food will be easier to take on an unsettled (or at least unenthusiastic) stomach.

"Here you go. Room service," he says brightly, setting the tray and a glass of water down on the nightstand.