"A lot of the girls that work those rooms do so deliberately, and have the physiologies to enable it," he tells Tim, still not looking directly at him, as if the lack of eye contact will somehow give him more space. "She wasn't one of them. I'm sure you saved her life."

For the first time, Bruce wonders if he's wrong. Maybe this isn't anyone he truly recognizes, and maybe Tim doesn't recognize him at all. But he can't be completely wrong, can he? It's too much of a coincidence, even if he'd like it to be. He should have sent Tim off by himself. (He couldn't.)

"That toxin'll wear off in about six hours." Bruce doesn't ask him if he's okay. He doesn't really look okay, but talking about it - especially with him - isn't going to be much help. At least, not in this little cab. So he keeps quiet besides that, and is thankful for the small miracle of the nearness to their destination.