A single nod and Bruce drops back down over the other side of the wall, stealth wards coming back on as he does, effectively disappearing. He figures Logan will know to get the fuck out of Dodge on time; he always does.

Later, he shows up at the bar, and by this time in their ... whatever it is, relationship is probably not the word, their association, it's odder to see him in plainclothes than not. There's always a sense that this is the costume. Tom quietly slinks onto a barstool next to Logan, tossing him a look and a barely-there slightly tired smile as a hello. A reddish bruise is blooming on his right cheekbone, but he wears it well enough.