"I think it will make things really fucking weird," she points out. It's still weird to her that Jack's basically having a conversation with himself. She takes one of the outfits he's built and disappears into his bathroom so she can change. She works very, very hard at not seeing the dick between her legs, but she has to touch it, she realizes, to adjust how it . . . rests, or something, in her underwear.

Right.

She opens the bathroom door and leans just her head out. "Jack," she whispers. "I don't know what to do with . . . it."