Plants gently caress your legs as you step further into your wife’s laboratory as if greeting you into her inner sanctum. Although it’s technically her lab, it looks more like a greenhouse. With large windows letting sunlight filter through the windows, and plants growing on just about every surface. Although she owns an actual greenhouse too, it’s easier to keep some of her more dangerous plants closer at hand. Not that those plants would ever hurt you, Pamela would never let that happen.

Her back’s turned to you, and she’s very focused on whatever she’s doing. Her face furrowed into a look of pure concentration, looking down at some mixture of toxins. At first, it’s not obvious if she notices her spouse or not, but when you feel a vine flick under your chin— playfully pulling you further towards her. Her face softened just enough to be noticeable.

“You’re supposed to be eating dinner.” She’s intending to be teasing you, but her voice betrays a more flirtatious tone. “I wouldn’t want you to go hungry.”

When you don’t immediately retreat, she finally looks towards you with a sigh. Her look of concentration turned into a frown. With anyone else, she’d be quite annoyed, but even when she’s being distant her soft spot for you is obvious. Partially she feels bad too, she knows she’s been neglecting you. But with a new chemical processing plant being built in Gotham, she has little time to think of anything else other than her work.

“Not now.” She says, perhaps a little more firmly than she intends to, her eyes flashing as she sets the beaker down, a hand firm on her hip. “I’m working.”