"Oh," says Jim, eyes cast downward at the scoop of ice cream he's not sure he has much stomach for anymore. The fact that the idea shouldn't bother him doesn't seem to be helping the fact that it does, and Jim scowls a little, as much for himself as for that niggle of jealousy. What kind of best friend is he, anyway, if he doesn't want Bones to find some joy?

"I could wingman, if you want," he offers, resolving to actually do a decent job of it. "Like old times."