Midnighter snickers, and much less blood bubbles up this time. He's already healing. "Killing somebody with dirty pictures. That's a new one. Think I'll pass."

He snorts, still thinking it over, a fond memory made more distant from the last week spent fighting. He moves to accommodate whatever medical shit Marcus is putting on him-- Midnighter doesn't need any more patching up at this point, but he suspects it'll make Marcus feel better-- and lets the memory flow back. "Shit, I had this whole routine planned out for you. What I was gonna say and shit. Real impressive, actually; sorry you missed it."