Ned nods, strangely relieved. Not only because he wouldn't know what to do next if Ginsberg had agreed that striking first was the best strategy, but also because it's a kind of comfort, knowing that it's a line the other man would never cross. Part of that comfort is selfish: he knows things about Ned that he'd never thought he would allow anyone to know. The fact that he would stick to a kind of zero-tolerance policy on blackmail, even for someone like Bob, is reassuring. If (and in his mind, it's an if that is shaded in a fear that he ought to think when) Ned fucked up badly enough to make Ginsberg hate him, maybe he'd still keep his secrets. Maybe.

"Okay." He lets out a breath that's only a little shaky. "Okay. You're right. I'll just... keep the recipe ready." Which is to say, the two of them can cross that bridge when they come to it. "It was a bad idea anyway," he admits. Then, without exactly meaning to, he adds in a softer voice, "I like that you don't have it in you."

Because Ginsberg isn't like the rest of those people he works with. In a way, he isn't even like Ned. Ned knows that, underneath the harmless surface, there are times when his moral compass doesn't exactly point to true north. There are situations, scenarios he can imagine, where he'd have it in him to do a hell of a lot worse. Nice to think that Ginsberg is different. He doesn't much like feeling that potential inside of him, and isn't sure if finding it in Ginsberg wouldn't... sour his view of him, a tiny bit.