Title: Not-Cleverly Named Character Meme
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Batman Beyond. Though, it would be fun bestowing certain things onto the characters.
Warnings: Slightly AU, tiny JLU crossover at the end.
Summary: Rather simple, really. Write a drabble or one-shot about a chosen character according to the age listed above it. Chosen character: Deidre Denis AKA DeeDee.

You grow up when you decide to do right.
And not what's right for just you,
What's right for everyone…
Even when it hurts.
-Lars and the Real Girl.

Age Five:

Sweet blue eyes stared up in awe as the tiny blonde girl in the cherry dress stood below where he sister with the slightly darker eyes in the emerald dress dangled from a particularly high tree branch. Their Nanna had told them at least a million times not to climb this tree with the yellow complexion and rarely growing leaves, there were plenty others to climb; ones with green leaves and flexible boughs that were closer to the two story house their Nanna had built before they were born and their mom had died. Deidre couldn't understand why Delia disobeyed so much.

"Come on DeeDee!" Delia called, still hanging upside-down and using that nickname the twins had started calling each other to drive Nanna Harley crazy without much success, "This is so much fun!"

Deidre wasn't so sure and stayed on the tree root closest to her sister. At least if the much more carefree of the two of them fell, Deidre would be able to catch her.

Age Thirteen:

"Delia, we're gonna get in trouble!"

"I told you not to call me that when we're in costume, DeeDee," The greasepaint faced, red wigged, short-shorts, tube top, red boot wearing elder twin snapped, pulling Deidre (dressed exactly the same) along the alley with a tight grip. Deidre's fingers were turning white under the pressure of her twin's manicured hand and she knew better than to say anything else when Delia told her the plan was to confuse the liquor store owner with their personas, knock the guy out, empty the register and then be gone before the cops showed up.

And it all worked out, in her sister's words, spectacularly. They made out with two thousand dollars in cred cards and were hidden in an abandoned building by the time the sirens sounded in the distance.

Deidre put a false smile on for her sister and the next day she left an envelope with the stolen creds inside the liquor store owner's hospital room when she was sure he was asleep. That, and a small apology card left blank.

Age Seventeen:

Tiny, broken nailed hands pressed down five times on the red symbol of Batman's chest before Deidre's lips, greasepaint and lipstick washed away from struggling in the tide, pressed to the Dark Knight's and forced air into his lungs. When she leaned back up, it was just in time before salt water gurgled forth like a geyser and Batman took a strong but obviously painful breath of air; his strong, much bigger hand clutching hers.

She didn't cry out when she felt four of her bones in the hand crack or break, but she did give a relieved sigh as he tried to sit up and look at his surroundings. The sea washing over the tips of his feet, the sand getting into the folds of his suit, the wretched bullets in his thigh, the wooden bridge just above his head…

When his eyes finally registered her presence, her tiny form hunched over him with a bleeding bullet hole riddled left arm holding his hand, it seems as if he did a double take. And when that happened, he let go of her hand and just sort of stared at her in a way that a Great Dane would look at a hare if it didn't run away from it at first bark.

She gave a sad half-smile that didn't make it close to reaching her eyes like her false smile, a shrug of her good shoulder and tried to answer what was obviously skittering around in his head, "I'm not like my sister. I don't want you to die and never did."

Age Twenty-Five:

"Darling, come on! Monitor duty's over and we're going to lunch."

Head jerking up at the call of her knew name that she wasn't quite used to, the young woman that looked like a cross between her former self (red wig with sailor cap, combat boots and white face paint) and her newer self (black shorts, black top and a loose white leather jacket to carry all of her lesser weapons) glanced up from the Watch Tower's computer monitor on deck and down at Batman and Warhawk, the two senior heroes waiting patiently for her. Batman himself was holding her huge wooden mallet tauntingly to get her down faster.

"But J'onn asked me to fill out this questionnaire!" Deidre groaned exaggeratedly. She didn't want to cross the Martian so soon after being offered this job. Him being one of the Original Seven carried a lot of weight and if he thought she wasn't good enough, she had a fear that he'd wipe her memory or something rather Men In Black-ish.

"That thing can be filled out within a week after him giving it to you," Warhawk said with a gentle smirk that practically screamed he'd made the same mistake.

Deidre glanced at the questions on the computer and giving a small chuckle she saved what she had already written and leapt from the deck, leaving Maxine and Static to themselves. It wasn't that she didn't like them, but even she, a regular street hacker, could only take so many hours of digital tricks and electric puns that seemed to span for eternity that only broke when they had to call one of the other League members in to go handle some disaster back on Earth.

Landing with a polished clumsiness indicative of her genes, the former girl from the Jokerz joined the other two, half-heartedly trying to get her mallet back from Batman while Warhawk kept up with them, but stayed two feet away so if he laughed at their banter he could side-step a punch to the arm from either Terry or Deidre.