Quick to take in the gear, the experimental paraphernalia, the suit, Bruce turned back to Zoe. He was surveying her form, this time. She moved easily, with a strength and confidence one gained only from the sort of work the Batman required. And, he noted, she wasn't moving to favor one appendage or the other. He wondered if, underneath all the clothes, she carried any of the scars he did.
"How long?" he asked her.
Alfred had not told him this.
The niggling sensation of shame burning a spot against the back of his neck began to assert itself more firmly. It did not seem to matter that it wasn't he himself who saddled this woman with his own responsibilities.