"Wh--" Greta starts as Iman beams up at her, less an objection and more a general expression of confusion. There's certainly nothing objectionable about a hug, either, and she returns the gesture more or less automatically. Her smile widens, though it's no less baffled than it was when she first opened the door.

Then Iman wraps her other arm around her.

For a beat, all she registers is that the hug just got nicer. Then it hits her, and she lets out an entirely undignified squawk of delight. "Your arm!" It's warm, and it's working, and Greta tightens her hold for a few moments before taking Iman by the shoulders so she can pull back and look at the prosthetic. "It's all fixed?" Without bothering to worry about propriety, she takes Iman's left arm in her hands. It feels alive again, and she runs her palms down Iman's forearm to her hand, pressing it gently between her own. "You can feel with it and everything?"

Rush's droll aside earns him a look that is far too pleased to reach exasperation. "What are you still doing out there?" He helped; surely he ought to be part of the impromptu celebration.

And speaking of. Greta grins back down at Iman, feeling so happy she could burst, and pulls her into another hug. It's not even about what this might mean for her; she knows how much this means to Iman. She hasn't really been herself since she lost the arm; now that it's back, everything will be better.