“Oh, for a second I was worried you wanted pictures of Spider-Man,” she deadpanned.  “Look, I’m not the best judge of worthiness, personally.  And don’t worry, I’m not that desperate for work.  I’m hurt that you don’t trust me, Hill, but I won’t go home and cry about it.”

Jessica shrugged.  “You could always try standing outside and yelling for them to open the Bifrost or whatever it is they do.  That might get you somewhere.”

There’s a flicker of a smile, so brief that it’s barely noticeable.

“Don’t take it personally, I don’t trust anybody.”

Something tells her the dark haired woman might hold the same sort of creed. Brows raised, Hill tilts her head, an incredulous expression painted on her features. She hopes that’s a joke.

“Yeah, I’m not about to do that. Luckily it’s not really my problem- this is more of a favor for the police commissioner, but he already owes me anyway. Still, if you’re interested in chasing down a lead–”


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