Wolfgang's sense of relief when they burn is visibly palpable -- the strange tugging sensation he felt looking at them, like water circling down a drain, stops abruptly. He feels a lot better knowing they won't just be lying around for someone to stumble into.

"Do you get paid for this?" he asks, apparently on the same track with that line of thought; if she doesn't, she ought to. He's eyeing her gun. "I don't suppose someone's out there handing those out." He can dream, okay.

(...Actually, maybe he'll skip the dreaming. He'd rather not wake up and discover he is also secretly an alien or something.)