"Any circumstance is a good circumstance if I get to see you again, Psychana." The detective smiles broadly, eagerly eyeing her. "Wow! I love the new costume!" He says, voice genuine. "Don't worry about it - you saved the goods, that's what matters. We'll get 'em eventually. I'm just glad it's not Jetstream - the guy's been quiet so far, but every call I get I worry it's that maniac." The detective shakes his head. "These girls don't seem violent, which makes them low priority." As he talks, Psychana feels the gold of the idol on her skin, pleasantly warm where it should be cold, and sending a tingle over her skin that makes her shiver, muscles relaxing where it travels. For the briefest of moments, almost too brief to register, an image flashes in her mind - she sees herself lying on her bed, the hulking detective atop her, naked, as her husband stands watching, moaning, manhood painfully hard in his hand.
"You okay, girl? You look like you've seen a ghost." Jackson's voice stirs her from her thoughts. "Alright, so it's just the stuff in the van, and that idol, right? We should be able to get it out of the lockup and back in the museum soon." He slips on plastic gloves and holds out his hand for the idol, though Psychana gets the impression that it doesn't want to leave her. Though not overriding her will, Jenny feels an urge to keep it, at least for a little while - nonsensically, it feels like it's hers to keep as long as she wishes.