Scott Free pulled back the curtain with a flourish. "Ta-da!"
Barda peered into the small tiled space, frowning. Scott watched her face, loving the little line that appeared between her eyes, loving everything about her. "What is this?"
"It's a shower!"
"A shower." She looked at him blankly. "What is its purpose?"
Scott turned it on and Barda stepped back a pace, her Megarod at the ready in a flash, as water gushed out of the head. "It's for cleaning yourself."
Barda looked dubious. "Don't they have sonobaths here on Earth?"
"Nope, just running water and soap."
The alarm on Barda's face had given way to puzzlement and a kind of wonder as she watched the pouring water, and Scott remembered his own amazement when he had seen a river on Earth for the first time. Apokolips had no clean water. "So I just step in and--"
"--you have to take your clothes off, first," said Scott hastily, as it looked like she might step in with all her armor on.
Her face hardened again. "A Fury would not make herself so vulnerable." She cast a look at Scott. "But...I am not a Fury anymore, am I? And you say this planet is safe."
"It's a lot safer than Apokolips, that's for sure."
Barda hesitated a moment more, then began to strip her armor off without any coyness or self-consciousness, leaving the mundane middle-America bathroom cluttered with bits and pieces of spiky Apokoliptian armor. She stood in front of Scott, entirely nude, her arms crossed. "Very well then. But shouldn't you be undressed as well?"
Scott yanked his eyes away from her. "Um, yes. Yes."
She frowned and twitched as the water hit her bare skin, sputtering when it got in her mouth. "This is--this is not so fun, Scott," she complained.
"Just relax," Scott said, joining her under the hot spray. "Get your hair wet."
She ducked to get her head under the spray, as she was taller than the shower head, and came up dripping. Scott climbed onto the little shower stool he'd bought--it made them close to the same height--and rubbed shampoo into her hair, letting the thick, unearthly weight of it slip through his hands. She made an appreciative, almost surprised sound, and the scent of lavender filled the air. "That feels good."
"Lots better than a sonobath," Scott agreed. "You have to rinse the soap off now." She bowed her head and let Scott comb his fingers through her long, black tresses; they brushed against his chest and sent rivulets of water trickling downward. She murmured happily as his fingers caressed her scalp, a sound of sheer bliss, reveling in being cared for and cherished.
After her hair was clean, she parted it like a curtain, peeking out at him and down. "Well, well," she said. "What have we here?" Her smile held a strange, godlike mix of innocence and sheer lust that made his blood heat. She stood, letting her wet hair tumble down around her, framing her glorious breasts, and reached out to him.
And that was how the Frees broke their shower curtain and cracked five tiles in their shower on their first night together in their new house.