Jake stands there and listens as she lays out her plans, plans of vengeance and violence, and he makes himself smile and he makes himself nod. Honestly, it’s not unlike any other night he’s spent with Janey lately, right down to the pit of misery gnawing somewhere below his belly button. All of it is made worse by the occasional wry glint in her eye, or moment of self-deprecation in the slant of her mouth. It reminds him of the Jane he used to know. Or the Jane he thought he used to know.
Then there’s the ghostly presence of his former beau and best bro. That’s different.
At first Dirk stands at Jake’s elbow, a one-ghost support staff, before he appears to lose interest in Jane’s rant and wanders off across the office, reading the spines of books and spending way too long staring at a startlingly phallic piece of installation art, the provenance of which Jake doesn’t know, but could hazard a guess it wore a codpiece. Then he settles on Jane’s desk, propping his ghost butt there and sort of just...well.
Here’s a picture of what he does.