Dinah fell over laughing because wow. Memories of Helena bitching about her father's absence in one breath and complaining she couldn't live up to his legend in the next, and Barbara carefully critiquing certain adventures and yet, her role-model was still Batman. Commissioner Gordon, and the press hating him and holding him up as their only hope and... yeah. There were prats. And there were your prats.

When she got her breath back, Dinah said, "Merlin? I get it. I can't explain it very well. But I won't ever make fun of you for it. Or question it again." She grinned a little wider. "He's not my Prince Arthur. Or my prat. And never going to be. But I do get it."