His eyebrows just about go up into his hairline when she mentions the vinyl pants and bustier -- not because he judges, but because it's hard to imagine her in those things -- but he says absolutely nothing.

It's also hard to connect her words to himself at first, actually, and it's not like he doesn't know that's what she's doing. But even if he has been finding some solace in splitting his own mind, he hasn't done anything so extreme. Although-- Although it is true that the division in his mind runs more along the lines of Ben and Constable Fraser, and if that's the case, he supposes there is one side being presented a lot more than the other. And not necessarily the one he wants people to see more of, at that.

"I see," he says with a thoughtful frown, clasping his hands behind his back. "I think I take your meaning. But..." He glances around the closet again, his gaze alighting on a hat very much like the Stetson. "I'm not on duty. I'm not a Mountie right now. I don't..." This is starting to get vulnerable enough that he hesitates to share it with her, but deciding that train has already left the station, he sighs and admits: "I don't see how I could be, as an inmate."