"It's cancer." Selina makes the statement matter-of-factly, letting it hang in the air for a beat before continuing. "No, I'm kidding. I mean, I know it's not cancer. It's just lingering Joker Gas, or..."

She's not usually the sort to ramble. Maybe that speaks to her current level of unease. Look, she just felt... off, okay? The past couple weeks. Something felt wrong, and it wasn't going away. She'd been ignoring it, for the most part, telling herself she was imagining things, but... well, can't really ignore losing her dinner to a random sudden nausea spell mid-patrol. Selina Kyle did not throw up on the regular. That was unusual. She'd have gotten herself checked out at that point anyway, really, but the fact that it happened in front of Bruce kind of meant that got fast-tracked.

Perks of having a billionaire philanthropist who also happens to be a vigilante crime fighter tech genius for a partner: you get to take advantage of his resources. ...And his stuff. Just. In general. Like his rather extensive medical set-up. Because let's face it, there's a not-zero chance that whatever ends up wrong with her, it could've come from her own costumed activities - not something you walk into a public clinic for, no? So now she's lying on one of his weird little medical beds, waiting for answers.

"Uck, but I've done the Joker thing, and it's not that. It doesn't feel like that... but..." She glances over at Bruce, who's been looking at the scanner in his hand for what feels like a very long time. She wishes he'd say something, damnit. The longer that silence stretches, the longer she's got to work herself up. Paranoia is usually his thing. Maybe she's been hanging around him too much.

"It's cancer," she declares, after the silence goes a bit too long. "Is it cancer? ...F*ck."

Which finally gets his eyes off the scanner. And really? She's got no way to interpret that smile - that warm, amused, joyous smile - but that, well, it's not cancer. Option two?

"No. Nonononononono. Absolutely not!"