"Oh!" Oh, she knows him. "Yes, I--I remember." That dream had been rather a mess, and Tim had been worrisomely ill for at least part of it, but he seems to be doing well enough, now. And she takes it nothing in Bee's apartment is going to fall apart the moment one of them touches it. "It's good to see you again," she says, rather than touch on the ridiculous circumstances of their first meeting. This can be something of a fresh start.

Though it doesn't really help that there's still a bizarre problem that needs solving, and with none of them necessarily equipped to handle it.

Well, at least she can offer something. "I was telling Bee--I sort of stumbled upon a way to see Jay, at least a little. I could show you." She digs out her flour bundle, which is already leaking just a little. The cloth she used to wrap it isn't that finely woven, and it must have endured a fair amount of jostling in her pocket. "Jay, if you wouldn't mind standing just here," she gestures to her own right side, "and giving me a tap when you're there...?"

A beat or two, and then a familiar freezing sensation drifts through her shoulder. It's not as sharp a sensation as it was to begin with, probably because she's used to it, but she makes a mental note to check later and make sure all these icy touches haven't done her any actual damage. "Right," she murmurs, lifting the improvised bag over where Jay's head should be and giving it a few gentle bats with her hand.

A little flour showers down, drifting to the floor by way of Jay's outline, his head and shoulders temporarily but unmistakably visible. "He surprised me while I was baking," Greta confides with a grin. "Scared me half to death, though I'm sure he didn't mean to."