Maria arched her eyebrows as she transferred a few pieces of chicken drenched in some sort of sauce onto her plate, then gestured with her chopsticks at him. "Spinal injuries are nothing to dismiss, shrapnel or not," she told him. "You take your goddamn leave and spend it in close communication with your drugs."
She fell silent as he continued, almost delicately using her chopsticks on the rice and chicken. "Alright," she finally said, and when she looked up, her eyes were carefully flat and professional. "What have you got on the Riddler?"