Oh, she certainly will ask about him with an invitation like that, and yet, Joan knows well the perils of the gossip machine. "I prefer my information straight from the source when it can be had. Less distortion, unreliable narration aside," Joan tells him, but there's a warning in his words that troubles her.

A gust of wind catches the edge of her coat and she's abruptly chilled. "Maybe you'll join me for some tea and we can discuss the things I'm not willing to accept. I'm not close-minded, John, just from a world in which magic and metahuman abilities are either a myth or a very jealously guarded secret."