[Someone did bat an eye at a big red cloak but it seems Tim had the sense to not dredge that back up. In the same vein, he almost can't stop the interjection of] I'm from Jersey, Doctor. There's always a snitch. [which wins him no favors if he's going to even try to reach for a Drake-Wayne approach. He's settled into a nonsensical and light tap-tapping of his foot on the ground.

Is that how he's playing it, in this place? (Isn't it a little too late to be asking that?)

He's not so high-strung anymore. But the following heat in his words is nearly practiced, like Tim figures he'd need some flavor to be some shade of convincing.] You use magic; that's why you went to Bonnie's, isn't it? The ring on your fingers isn't therapeutic, it's a part of your uniform. You have every intention to break ADI's very sensible rules.

[He's guessing.]

A lot of us don't have that kind of convenience.