They're quick. They slip inside, relieved to find it empty, and set about getting clothes on. Starting with some goddamn socks. They hate being barefoot, almost more than being naked in the more traditional ways. They leave the door open, as much for expediency as because it seems rude to just leave her outside.

They also have to deal with a little floating, plastic ghost zooming across their bed to rattle its chains in distress at them. They pause in their hasty process of tugging on clothing to pet its round little head. "Hey, hey... I'm sorry, little guy. Shit, I shoulda had somebody come in and look after you, huh."