[ She rolls her eyes mildly when he glances back at her, but it's mostly for show. Sure, sure — she gets it, the whole "bad boy" thing. Can't be damaging his reputation. Whatever he wants, as long as the civvies get rescued and fire gets put out. That's good enough for her. ]

Don't worry, tough guy. [ Dryly, as she climbs out the window after him: ] Your secret's safe with me.

[ Crouching down, she sets the unconscious bank teller onto the sidewalk before turning away briefly to speak into her radio, probably coordinating an ambulance. Then, she finally glances back over at Guzma. He doesn't seem worse for the wear. She doesn't either, now that she's healed — except for the sleeve and shoulder of her uniform, which is now little more than singed tatters. ]

Not too late to try and kick my ass. You probably got a good ten minutes before the calvary shows for clean up.