[Oh Bruce. Monet tilts her head just barely: this isn't something she expected him to say, though it is a logical question to ask. It seems every time she thinks she's got a grip on him he dances just out of reach. It's puzzling. She's not interested in him, he's not interested in her. What else is going on?]
[His thoughts are still maddeningly mundane.]
We're private, Mr. Wayne, we decide which cases to take.
[But it goes unsaid that somebody like her hardly has any inclination towards philanthropy or public service of any kind unless the people were particularly special to her.]
no subject
[His thoughts are still maddeningly mundane.]
We're private, Mr. Wayne, we decide which cases to take.
[But it goes unsaid that somebody like her hardly has any inclination towards philanthropy or public service of any kind unless the people were particularly special to her.]