"No," she admitted, having no delusions about the few that she knew making any sort of respectable basis to judge from. That wouldn't stop her from judging. It also wouldn't prevent her from admitting as much. Hayley liked to be honest about her shortcomings when it didn't hurt her to be so.

A laugh was a good sign, in her mind. Making people laugh endeared one to them, gave them all the more reason to keep one around. It was an in, a way of teasing her merits before having had opportunity to prove the better ones, like her intelligence and resourcefulness. Her hands found the edge of the bench, forgetting for a moment that it was made of shadow and might swallow her whole at any minute - she'd seen enough horror films to know how it worked.

"What happened to your leg?" Tact was a thing that Hayley chose to have, when appropriate. An 'appropriate' time was only when she felt she couldn't get away without or worried she might unnecessarily upset whoever the victim of said tactlessness was. The rest of the time, she enjoyed pushing boundaries. "Is it that thing where it's asleep and you can't tell if it hurts or if it's just tingling too much?"

She really needed to spend less time with Bart.

To the latter, she smiled to confirm the identity. The story seemed comical, yet she had no reason to doubt its authenticity. How tragic for Skulduggery. The kind of tragedy that had no real personal impact for a third party listener like Hayley.

"Of course." She was pretty sure she understood his meaning. "So, wait. You two work together?"

She couldn't help but sound skeptical. Which, in turn, lead to sarcasm. "Right, totally. Because why wouldn't you be a creepy magical detective too?"