“I’ll take your word for it,” Alessa said dryly, ignoring how Bruce eyed them suspiciously from his spot in the bathroom, having decided that he would shave for this particular occasion after remembering that that was what most men did in the first world. “You spend long enough staring at him that I bet you’d know best anyway.”

The rows and rows of clothing in the closet shifted, Tony’s few purple shirts floating off their hangers and presenting themselves.

“Too frilly.” She put one with lacy frills, probably from a costume, back onto its hanger. “Too shiny.” There went a silk one. “Too purple.” Goodbye, bright plum purple. “Why does this have sequins?” That’s gone. “He’d look silly in this one.” She got rid of one that was clearly intended for business, all sharp lines and hard corners and really not Bruce’s style. “This one?”

It was a light purple button-down, not as formal as the last one but tidy and wouldn’t look out of place in a professional setting. “He could wear a blazer if you think we really need to look nice.”

She paused, then looked down at herself in her stiff, starched school uniform. “Do you think I should change too?”