"You know where to find me," Doug said, shrugging off the comment. Tea seemed... unlikely, but it was the thought that counted. He absently wondered if he should be worried that run-ins with costumed vigilantes and criminals (or ex-criminals) was beginning to feel normal.
Who chooses this life? He hungered to make something of himself, to never feel like a victim again, to control his path and make a difference. He was training to fight, as best he could. Eager to learn, to adapt. Even if he spent most of his time lost, wandering in the dark.
He gave Catwoman a shy smile at that last comment. Doug knew well the trouble of being tangled up with someone you cared for, who was out nightly putting themselves at risk to help people. Wanting to be with them but separate by a gulf of secrecy that was meant to protect her. She was another reason he wanted to enter that world, because it would be unfair to ask her to leave hers. Doug folded his arms into a hug, keeping his feelings at bay. "Trouble? You get to make all kinds of interesting new friends." She's worth the pitfalls.