"Piss someone off at the gala?" Speirs was lounging in Lucius chair, drinking a beer. A cigarette was hanging from between his fingers and he looked decidedly more relaxed. He took a long swig off the beer and shifted in the chair, shirt riding up in the back.
"You know how those crazed socialites get. Try to institutionalize them and all of a sudden they're breaking out the family silver and trying to bust you over the head with it."
Bruce walked over and hauled himself up onto Lucius' desk, which was suprising devoid of paperwork. Apparently Speirs visit had been productive.
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"You know how those crazed socialites get. Try to institutionalize them and all of a sudden they're breaking out the family silver and trying to bust you over the head with it."
Bruce walked over and hauled himself up onto Lucius' desk, which was suprising devoid of paperwork. Apparently Speirs visit had been productive.
"Celebrating?"
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