"Yeah." His gaze drops from her shifting shoulders and to his own hands. Jim can face down danger with nothing more than an excited swoop in his gut, but things like this...it takes regrouping.

He does know what she means, though it's less that he's never wanted it, and more that Jim accepted long ago that he couldn't have it. Loving someone like that had ruined his mother's life, ruined Jim's when his father's death extinguished all hope of an ever after. Jim's been through enough. He's not eager to invite more, especially when he knows how it all too frequently ends.

"I guess," he says, piecing through all he's just seen, "Future you changes her mind?"