"Ha!" Dick laughed, pointing at Helena. "Don't get me wrong; I'd thought of it! Just... fearless leader here..." He forked a thumb at Barbara. "She just rolls her eyes at me. Like she did at you just now."
In reference to the loud noises she wouldn't be able to identify, he rubbed the back of his neck with a bashful air. He hadn't been doing as much of that, or hardly any, since Barbara's accident. He'd not said anything to anyone, partly because it was no one's business but also because he wasn't ready to talk about why yet. He'd started to see what all that gallivanting had been: escapism from how he really felt. The first incredibly angry and weepy bout of sex he'd had with some random chick after first hearing about Babs made him have to reassess. It was the one thing he truly hated, looking inward, and the answers proved themselves difficult and remained so.
He took his coffee and sipped at the piping hot drink, glad for the sudden distraction. "I'll keep the communicator somewhere safe and easy for access, though I imagine I'll look just as ambiguous with a bird pen at my throat. Very matronly." He snorted at his own joke. "Speaking of, what's on our plate? Anything?"