His eyebrows go up, though nowhere near as arched as sleeping blueshirts - just faintly, knowingly incredulous. Those are different people?

Life, man.

"Jim," he clarifies, and his expression skews, his half-present smile more wry than anything. "I'm asking you, Kathryn, as - I hope - your friend."

They can take a hatchet to the details later. Write imaginary reports, silently make contingency plans around exchanged information. They're always going to be officers first; it's why this conversation took so long to happen. But that's not all they are.