"People can always make trouble..." he muttered, staring down into his coffee. He swirled the mug and watched it wash around and around and around.

Metody shrugs. Probably, he should not voice the opinion that one criminal was a lot like another.

"Vigilantes - I mean, the kind like you. You've got a secret life, don't you? There's your job, and then there's the public face, and maybe somewhere in the middle, if there's a bit of space, there's you, maybe . That's not entirely different from the situation I'm in, back home. I've got my secret life, too."

He grimaces a little and takes a sip of his coffee.