"No, you?" Marcus says, thinking, Yep, no doubt, and wondering exactly how inappropriate it would be to make a point of meeting Damian. Whether it goes against what he promised Tim, what he's mostly stuck to. He's got that nosy, hunting impulse now, the sort of itch in his fingers that leads to him opening people's letters or rifling through their wallets. Hands in his pockets he saunters in Bruce's wake, abandoning his glass to leave marks on the chaise longue. "Doesn't seem like you're hovering right now. You must trust him with some of the socialising going on downstairs." Back past some of the portraits. Marcus carefully doesn't look. "I dunno. Don't have my own, and working with kids is different from raising them."