"Don't." The word's like a whipcrack. Una knows his voice better than most, but he's had nearly two decades of disguising it to suit his purposes. Alfred would be proud. Bruce doesn't move from where he is, it's always unnerved people more to remain completely, inhuman still, though he does drop a batarang down into his hand. Even without the Starlite lenses in his cowl, Bruce has always had exceptional night vision - he knows the calibre of firearm she has wouldn't penetrate his body armour - but it'll hurt like hell if she shoots him, and he has six different vectors planned to knock it out of her hand if she draws it.

"What are you doing here?" It's the low snarl he uses when he's conducting an interrogation. Usually implemented against people he's dangling by their feet over cracked pavement thirty stories below.