This is where aimless pacing halts so he can stand squarely and look at the other man, and-- Logan's expression kind of settles into a scowl no matter what, curled around his cigar and eyes studious through the thick haze of smoke exhales produce. Bruce probably shouldn't take it personally. He's just how his face goes, but more importantly, he's thinking. Taking out some obviously corrupt, reprehensible bad guys is one thing--

"Yeah?" he says, cigar lowering. Pause. His chin lifts, indicative. "Who're you?"