"Eddie?" There were a few confused seconds of silence as he tried to think of who she was talking about. "Wait ... The Riddler?" So many more questions needed to be asked but he didn't want to come off as a nervous hen to his trustworthy wife.
So instead, he focused on the basket again. "The coffee will be nice in the morning," he agreed, again thinking of the phone call he'd get from Bruce, the lecture, the brooding grumbling... "That is if you'll share it with your adoring husband," he finished, finally smiling just a little bit. It disappeared at the mention of poker night. "Uh ... yeah... maybe avoid gambling with Gotham's Not So Finest, honey. I bet they don't like to lose, and you're really good at that."
A conversation from across the bullpen (too far away for her to hear), made him turn his head a little. "...I think you're missing a bottle of bourbon from that," he said, looking at at the basket again. "Lombard is talking about a bottle of it and I assume he didn't bring it himself."