He blinks at her, alarmed, perplexed, paralyzed in uncertainty by the confusion that sentiment evokes. He does not know, entirely, how to interpret the point of escalation she has escalated towards, nor is he quite sure he can accurately deconstruct the ethos behind it.

The implication buried there is not so much buried as it is bladed and bared, something bright and fierce and difficult to look at.

Rush looks away.

He cannot look at the water.

"I very much doubt it will be an issue again," he says, evasive and unworried in the absence of finding anything remotely adequate to say in response to that. "ROMAC is unlikely to be an obstacle in the future."