Jenni was indeed the mother of a two-year-old, so she was likely familiar with some version of the expression that briefly flitted across Suicide's face. It was similar to the one any small boy got when a parent would tell him to stop poking a helpless squishy animal with a stick. Fortunately, Suicide was not the type to pout (although there was definitely an aura of 'taking away my toys' about him), and he offered Jenni his arm with the kind of perfect, studied gentlemanliness that suggested he hadn't in fact been threatening people with gleefully non-advanced field surgery only moments before.
"Nice to meet you all," he said, giving them his best "I'm not crazy, really" smile, which was about as close as he got to being normal in polite company. Once they were out of the room, though, he dropped it for something slightly more genuine, albeit definitely of the shit-eating variety.
"You're right," he continued contemplatively as he walked down the hall with Jenni. "I wouldn't want to stay here forever. Being surrounded by psych professionals means they might wind up curing me of my unsociable impulses, and then where would I be? Talk about curing yourself right out of a job. I can't see me going in for late-in-life retraining, getting one of those degree things."
That was a little loquacious for him, but hell, the world could sue him. He was in a good mood: he'd spent the night with a fascinating and quite flexible woman, he'd helped said woman scare her coworkers, and best of all, there was a good chance of a repeat. He liked her: she was a good woman, though there wasn't a way he could properly articulate that to her. The braid was a mute testimony to what had happened there.
It was getting on for what passed for morning in the PPC, and FicPsych was beginning to stir. Reluctantly, Suicide crossed the threshold. After a moment's hesitation, though, he turned and flicked the end of Jenni's braid lightly. "I'll be around," he said, risking that notorious moment of sincerity again. "Say hi to Henry and Ilraen for me, okay? And tell Ilraen that if he's gonna make a habit of psychotic breakdowns on missions, he and Nume need to work out some kind of buddy system. When he went to pieces on 'Ring Child,' it was a complete mess. No form at all." If Jenni squinted, she could possibly guess at how this was Suicide's form of trying to be friendly towards the other agents.
"Thanks," he added finally. A good night was at an end, but he had the sense that something even better might be getting started.
((If you want to cap this off, you can, but otherwise we can end it there. Michigan is beautiful, BTW!))