Doug had been about to hand her the filled glass of waer, but stopped. The way she worded it, he might as well have turned scarlet. Lowering his hands before his lack of concentration at that moment could stand to make her cut worse, he leaned back against the kitchen counter. "It's not like... I mean... it's..." he had nothing. He quickly handed her the new glass of water. "I'm not that kind of... things are very complicated." And I'm really in over my head here. I shouldn't be talking to anyone about her.
And she wanted a name. "Doug." He said. Screw a last name. Suddenly this felt like a bad idea. "Just Doug." Of course, he hadn't even gotten to the point of figuring out a name for when he was planning to be out, on the Gotham skyline like a crime-fighter. Which at this point felt more like a pipe dream and less like a real possibility. Not that he'd given it up, but he'd hit a wall with what he could do, and with the moves that Batgirl had taught him. "I'm not... like you or them. Not yet."
He wanted to sound confident, but even Doug could hear the tone in his voice, like he didn't quite believe himself either.