( New places were inherently suspicious. In the short span of time he'd been here, he'd come across a handful of things that made him pause. The glowing sprigs of mistletoe happened to be one of them.

He'd spotted it first on his trek back from his casual "stroll" around the residential areas. He'd seen it again through a window of a restaurant he'd tucked himself away in to watch who might pass by. The next time his eyes caught sight of it, he was heading back from the restaurant.

By the time Bruce spotted it this time, it a glow in the edge of his vision, just barely visible where it bounced against the rim of the baseball cap pulled low on his head. He realized a split second too late that he was stuck in his spot with a shadow of another person at his back. His eyes narrowed slightly, thoughtful and just slightly annoyed, as he glanced up at the glowing sprig. The damn plant he was sure was responsible for the interruption in his walk. )

This happen often? ( Bruce prompted, barely turning his head over his shoulder to acknowledge the person behind him. His voice was calm, seeming undisturbed by his immobility despite the way his thoughts fiercely closed around this sudden, frustrating knowledge in his thoughts. Kissing someone, he thought bitterly, hadn't exactly been on his agenda for the day. )

( The list of places Bruce had to survey and explore was shrinking, slowly. And the number of pages in the notebook he'd been scribbling in seemed to shrink ten times as fast.

While the few places he'd encountered so far had seemed - mostly - harmless, he found himself repeating a few words to himself in a steady mantra. Don't let your guard down. His attention shifted constantly from one thing to the next, taking note of even the smallest details no matter how mundane they seemed at the time.

The one thing that caught his attention the most was the snow. How deeply his footsteps pushed into it, the weight of it as it collected on his shoulders and brim of his hat, how much heavier it fell here than in other areas. It was the latter that made him cut his trip short, but he hadn't made it far before he resigned to the fact that going any further was more trouble than it was worth.

The first cabin he found open with no sound coming from inside had become his temporary shelter. Instead of settling, his eyes scanned the darkness for any sign of movement. )

Where's the best view of the city?

( It's a question meant to give him perspective - not on the city itself but on the inhabitants. )

( Hit me. )