Laura looked up quickly at the sound of Albert's knock, the crease of concentration in her brow deepening slightly at the prospect of an interruption. A small smile flickered across her face as Albert pushed the door open, though, and she could feel the muscles in her neck relaxing a little. As strangely tense as things had been with her husband over the past few months, she was still glad to see him. She wrinkled her nose a bit at the sight of what he'd brought her. Fried chicken, of course. One of her secret weaknesses. The milkshake, which she knew had to be strawberry, was just the icing on a delicious and forbidden cake that would do awful, awful things to her already bulging thighs.
Nevertheless, she was hungry. The frequency of meals crammed into fifteen minute lunch breaks was beginning to take its toll; Laura looked thin, exhausted. "Lovely" was certainly not the first word she'd choose, especially after the many hours she'd spent poring over these files. She hadn't even had time to organize her desk that week. It wasn't exactly the season for colds or influenza, but the sudden upswing in the development of various children's powers was making her busier than she ever remembered. The scent of fried chicken was far too overpowering for her weakened body, and she couldn't help but laugh lightly at Albert's offering her the gloves.
"Yum, latex. Just flavor fried chicken needs." she joked gently, accepting them and snapping them on nevertheless. She gingerly picked up a piece of chicken, holding a paper towel underneath, careful not to drip any grease on her precious files. "You spoil me, Albert." Although her tone was light, the words themselves conveyed subtle messages about the state of their relationship: she'd chosen "Albert," not "Penn," or even "Al." Despite her politeness, and the clear relief on her face, an air of formality, slight as it was, hung around them. "So. What's the occasion?"