[She nearly says something about Tony Stark to tease, but the force of the image (death, darkness, fear) makes her press her lips together. At once she wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, scream at him, why didn't you do anything after that? because she knows she'd be consumed by vengeance, she wouldn't rest or stop until she'd torn that creature to pieces, nobody dared take anything from M. and no one ever would. She'd made sure of that.]

[And at the same time she wants to put a coat around his shoulders, promise him that even if he does nothing, she or one of her team will (provided there's the right fee, he's no mutant as far as she can tell but he is in need of a detective), because every victim deserves closure; whether that's justice or vengeance, Monet doesn't care. There's monsters in the world and hell of all kinds; she pushed too far and she's seen a glimpse of his gilded cage.]

[She's in check, though she wasn't aware they were playing. She concedes.]

[As easily as she stepped in front of him, she returns to his side, walking on the ground now, heels clicking. It's barely perceptible to an outsider, but to Bruce's sharp eyes, she is now more subdued, and no longer openly calculating.]

You'd find my colleague Longshot an excellent partner in that respect. [Luck powers. Annoying when she wanted to hit him, sometimes.] Any other deep-seated character flaws we should discuss? Beautiful women, perhaps?

[God, is she going to regret giving him an easy out.]