"IKEA's a good place," Maria said fondly. "I once shot a bookcase I got from IKEA." If she had to explain why that made it a good place in her book, frustration from instructions included, they hadn't been around her very much at all. (Hardly at all recently, a traitorous little corner of her mind prompted, and she shoved it aside.) Studying the draped chair, she shrugged. "How come when I have furnature from different sets, it's mismatched, but when it's you, it's eclectic pieces?" she had to ask.
She picked the IKEA chair, possibly to be contrary, possibly because, well, it might as well get use if they'd actually gone through the trouble of bringing it into their combined lives, cover and all. "Scotch," she said, because she and Lois had found the very excellent scotch at the wedding, and she was hoping they hadn't finished the bottle - her memory was a little fuzzy on that point. Dinah had something that looked fruity and fizzy, and Bruce never drank, and Maria felt herself settling down, comfortable in the little ritual, even before she took her first sip.
She raised an eyebrow as Dinah's teasing comment. "I would say that as he himself-" she jerked her head at Pointy-Ears - "knows a great many things that he doesn't tell me, I wouldn't be terribly surprised," she said dryly. "I will point out that if you dangle it over my head just to announce that it's a secret, I will punch someone." Probably Bruce.