Bartholemew sighs, and winces as if physically struck at Scarlet's rebuke. "....Shit, I'm sorry. Amnesia? The- Right, after we got seperat-  but I-" he looks crestfallen, and his smile fades away, as a realization rocks through him. He winces, and sighs- looking up to her with a frown. By now, his pants have been joined by a heavy longcoat of the same material.<br/><br/>"...I'm sorry. That.. this is my fault, then- I thought I could buy you enough time, but apparently... they must have.... damnit!" he says- lashing out in to air- thankfully not hitting anything- as he closes his eyes, and forces it back down. Then looks up to her. "....Midnight fucking.. Project Fucking Midnight caught up with you, then." He says, and sighs. "Not that I expect you to remember that either- but the name might ring some bells you don't know it should yet.... I'm sorry. Okay.. where to start."<br/><br/>He sighs, and looks to her. "We were partners for about... thirty, maybe forty years, of Merc Work, bounty hunting, and... less savory shit to boot."