"Mmm," he says thoughtfully, drumming his fingers on his knees as he tries to come up with the right words.

"The Bat isn't really a person," he starts, his gaze wandering across the ceiling. "The Bat is a legend. A myth. She's trying to scare the law into all the bad little boys and girls in Gotham, and y'know what? It was working for a while there."

He takes a breath, straightens, shakes his head.

"But you heard the way she was talking. She knows how to play it," a fond smile curves his lips, "does she ever, but she still thinks she's playing. Like it's something she can just put on and take off. Like she can be this lurking angel of terror and still pretend she doesn't understand what it means to be," he makes an expansive gesture with both hands, "outside."