"I don't know, Edward. Working all year with you? I'd get sick of your face sooner or later."
"C'mon, B," he smirked. "You in tights? We could do it in the Batmobile, too… heard they build it bigger these days."
She rolled her eyes, throwing a rolled-up sock at his head, "You're sick."
He scoffed, throwing the sock back at her, "I can always get together with Catwoman."
She laughed lightly, pulling him forward by the front of his t-shirt and kissing him, slow and lazy, "You can try."
"Well," he grinned when they pulled apart. "I guess I'm packing."