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Jeremiah would definitely have words if he knew just what Zac was planning but thankfully he was unaware. Thankfully. This, on the other hand, was only mildly more disconcerting (because paintings of past selves always were, especially after meeting one.)

The detective looked chagrined, at least, at the mention of the marriage. He thumbed the new wedding band on his finger, Algie's bloodstone ring on the other hand now. "Mm, spur of the moment since we weren't sure when we'd be back over there and for our parents." Also a couple of crazy friends but that was beside the point.

"I am planning something here, you know, something that isn't just in front of an official." Jeremiah leaned in to nudge Zac lightly.

Jeremiah leaned a little more, the top of his head tilting against Zac's before he straightened back up. Just another reassuring gesture. "It wasn't exactly planned and I would prefer to have something with you there."

He meant it because Jeremiah did want a ceremony here with those few that were close.

"A little bit, yes," his lips curved upward into a small smile, "because we needed the air." A hand was smoothed through his hair, then rubbing the back of his neck a moment (because obviously it was a gesture they both shared). "Coming back into the area was not something I enjoyed." Which probably sounded like he did not want to come back but it was rather-

"The magic faded," he said a breath later, "while we were gone. It gradually disappeared until there was nothing." So Jeremiah had been without a chill, without the pain, for a few days and had come back to it.

"I would not worry about it as much," Jeremiah replied. "Finding something. It's ..." He shook his head. "It's something I'm going to start working with instead of against besides," his lips twitched up into a small smile, "when I'm around Alg it's not really an issue. Something about his magic ... It's not a problem when I'm around him."

Speaking of the portraits-

"It'll be interesting to see what they have, if there are any familiar faces." A hand was raked through his hair. "Any information about the artist would be helpful as well. Ah," a brief pause, "now that I'm back I will actually be looking into the files at work. To see if there's anything there."

About anyone really, not just himself, but for now the focus was on the visit. "He does know we are coming?"

"I've only heard of him by reputation, never met him in person." Jeremiah looked amused at the thermos and inclined his head in a way to say it would be more than enough. "To be entirely honest, I have to frequently keep some of the more exuberant officers away from the Shore estate. They were harassing the interns and it almost turned into an incident."

The detective shook his head in annoyance but let it go. The mentioning of Sunny, of her being crazy, of all of that ...

"He is not the only one to advise against dealing with Sunny, though the first to say that she is ..." His fingers flicked to imply crazy. Jeremiah would not say that about her. "I am certain that she may not have eaten in the past but I believe she can now.

"As it stands, he may just be trying to keep appearances that he knows nothing about what is going on by saying what he did. I doubt he's unaware."

"It's not active anymore," he replied easily. "Remember the fliers? The ones that were all over town when we got back after being stuck? Apparently something got around that his interns were at fault and the department had to look into it."

Jeremiah had spent a fair time trying to get them to stop because everything was based on rumors with no hard facts to back it up. There was, in this case, no reason to go after someone who had been a part of the community for so long - the Shore estate - with anything else than concrete proof of guilt.

"Sunny wants to be born supposedly," his voice was quiet as he spoke, "and probably be human just like us, as you said." Though they were obviously losing bits of their humanity in all of this, as far as he was concerned. His mind flitted to Aleksy who was now-

"Ah ... it's something to look into." That story always unnerved him because of the nightmares it had caused. For a moment the memory of Algie's body floating dead in bloody water flickered but he quickly shoved it away. "If you listen to what is said, then it's true. All the old stories are but I think ... I do know about it. Some of it, at least."

"Felt as if someone was touching your neck," Jeremiah responded immediately, "and yes, it did." It was, in fact, the first time that he had ever met the Burning Man. The being that made him think of his father so much that it was ridiculous.

That was neither here nor there.

He nodded in agreement about what they could find out about from the paintings. "Ah, yes. I'll be mindful." His eyes glinted. "Unlike my men, I actually possess tact." Honestly that was an issue with his officers (some of them) and he was forever working on it. They just got overeager and tried to hard.

"After this, I'll make a point to go look into the old police records to see what can be found." His gaze flicked ahead as they were reaching their destination.

There was a delay, as always, before Renard opened the door. "Mr. Bantock," he said. "Detective Lieutenant. Here to see the paintings, I assume."

Without waiting for an answer, he shut the door behind them and led them past the velvet rope on the main stair. The space upstairs was a neatly-kept hallway, an antique clock set against the wall on a fine table and a chinoiserie vase in the nook behind the stair rail. There was no time to look into the other rooms; Renard led them directly to the storage space above the kitchen, where a roomful of canvases and several strongboxes full of sketchbooks lingered. Renard stopped by the table in the center of the room, put one hand on a box of rubber gloves. "You will not touch anything without gloves on your hands," he said, flatly. "You will consume any liquids you have outside of this room. And you will not take photographs. Are there any questions."