Monster who wouldn't be caught dead in a seaside town. Which is what happens to people in seaside towns. Fog that eats people! Waves that eat people! Okay, yes, they're technically not one of those people, but they're not taking any chances!
"You like baths," Wanda says, entirely failing to hide her amusement.
"Does that looks like a bath to you?" Gemma growls, slid so far down in the passenger seat that she can't see over the dashboard to gesture balefully at the sea.
"Baby," Wanda says, "if all people can see is the top of your head bobbing around down there, they're gonna think things about what kind of day I'm having," and Gemma snorts.
"You wish," she says.
"C'mon." Wanda reaches into the driver's door pocket and lightly jingles one of their spare leashes. "Walk?"
Gemma gives her a look, crossing her arms. "Fuck you," she says grumpily.
"What have you got against beaches? And don't you dare quote the Star Wars prequels at me, Gemma, it's a rocky beach—"
"I took a girl on a romantic walk on a beach in high school," Gemma says, managing to slouch a little further down. "And then next day she went and told everyone I smell like a wet dog."
"Huh," Wanda says, casual. "Do you know where this bitch lives now? I just wanna talk. I'm gonna write all the talk nicely on bricks and deliver it conveniently through her windows—"
"You can't be mean back at all the people who've ever been mean to me, Wanda," Gemma says, but she's grinning a bit, lopsidedly, and slides herself up in the seat a little. "Also the sea's cold and deep and full of sea bugs and I don't want it."
"We're just going to walk along next to it a little!" Wanda says. "Maybe find a photogenic upturned boat or something and take a disgusting couple pic you can post online. Your fucking ex still stalks all your selfies, right?"
"You're so petty," Gemma says, opening the passenger door.
"Hashtag hot problematic bitch summer," Wanda tells her cheerily.
"Oh my god, you're such a cringe Facebook grandma, Wanda."
Wanda narrows her eyes, across the car roof. "Three years," she says. "You are three years younger than I am—"
"That's what makes it so tragic," Gemma says. "Lucky I like square milfs—"
"Who the fuck says square?"
"The kids online, Wanda." Gemma leans against the car, grinning angelically. "The youths. Cool people—"
"I'm going to make you swim," Wanda says, scowling.
"Well, it's your car, grandma," Gemma says, and bats her eyes. "I do smell like wet dog if I get wet."
Wanda leans across the hood. "You'd think I'd have noticed that by now," she says triumphantly.