They slept until after nine, and when they crawled out from under the covers, they looked like two confused bath flowers.
Selene staggered off to change clothes, while Bruce sat on the edge of the bed staring blankly. It took him three minutes to remember to put on his shorts.
Then they gradually woke up, only to disagree over what to wear.
"You'll get roasted alive." Leaning against the bathroom door, Selene pointed at Bruce's outfit and said, "Put on your sun sleeves, wear long pants, and bring a hat and umbrella."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm finally going to enjoy the sunlight I missed out on for the first twenty years of my life."
Selene looked utterly speechless. She raised her hands, then let them fall. "You really have no idea how intense the UV rays are in a normal coastal city. I'll say it again: I don't want to see my boyfriend turn into an overcooked shrimp."
"Come on, darling. Do you really think I'd get sunburned? Gothamites don't do that. We aren't rednecks from the Midwest."
"But you're still white, and you look very purely bred."
"Aren't you?"
Selene rolled her eyes again. "Don't tell me that after dating me for so long, you never noticed I have brown ancestry mixed in. Haven't you noticed I'm not that pale?"
"I thought you'd deliberately tanned yourself to a wheat color, but your features look white too."
"I told you, I'm mixed-race. Just not mixed very much... I'm finding it harder and harder to reason with you. Put on the sun-protective clothes already!"
Selene pounced on Bruce—or at least, that was how it looked from Bruce's perspective. Then she tried to pull an ugly jacket so thin it might as well not exist over him. Bruce had never worn anything