Jim lets him lean, a tiny smile curling one edge of his lips.

'I rarely comply in the ways expected,' he murmurs, and watches the approach with a hint of curiosity. Ganymede's admittance is interesting, because in company such as this, why would he need to be coy about murder? Either he doesn't like thinking of himself doing it, or he doesn't think Jim is as comfortable with it as he is.

'The pertinent thing is - - why do you want to know? And what would you do if I told you?'