Crane was probably the only person he had actual, regular conversations with. Even if it did orbit around crime as their shared sun.

“I’m not at liberty to go too deeply into it,” Aslan hedged, “but … I’m concerned about more sadistic crimes against humanity.”

Sharp eyes locked onto Crane when he coughed, though he let his gaze meander back to the file … keeping him in the corner of his eye.

“Relax,” Aslan laughed. “I’m Anglican.”

He had stopped flipping through the files, instead letting his eyes slowly skim the same few top lines that kept Crane’s face in better view.

“Friendly? How so?” he asked nonchalantly.