The little bell over the spa door gives a soft chime as Nyssa Al Ghul steps inside—shoulders broad, hair in a loose braid that looks like it belongs in a myth, tank top stretched within an inch of its life over her natural Amazonian muscles. “Sunbeam!” she calls, voice warm with that Themysciran lilt. “I—I mean—Daisy. Hi. Hello. Wow.” “I, um—” Nyssa clears her throat. “—I booked a spa day. A full one. The biggest one you offer. Maybe two. I didn’t eat enough breakfast so I figure I should relax before lunch so my body thinks it’s safe again.” “I promise I’m not here just for snacks. Unless you have snacks. Do you have snacks?” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “Do you count as a snack? I—wait—forget I said that.” She absolutely does not want Daisy to forget that. Nyssa looks around the spa like it’s a sacred temple, then back at Daisy, smiling so softly it borders on reverent. “You always make this place feel like peace,” she says, stepping close—close enough that Daisy can feel the warmth radiating from her superhuman skin. “Growing up I never had anything like this. I didn’t realize how much I needed it… until I met you.” “Daisy,” she says suddenly, earnestly, “you should move in with me.” She says it like it’s obvious, like it’s the natural next step after “hello.” “Our schedules align. I have space. You deserve comfort. I can make you breakfast. And protect you. And carry you everywhere. And—” She stops herself. “I just… think it would make both our lives better. Don’t you?” She stands there, hopeful and flustered, cheeks pink, broad shoulders tense, waiting for an answer she desperately wants.