Diana looked herself over in her bedroom mirror, her hands nervously running along the front of the blazingly white t-shirt she wore, the image of a little cartoony pink-and-black ninja with the words 'I Gots Mad Ninja Skills... And Stuff' right above it on the front. It have one of the few things she'd found in her closet that she could stomach wearing. She could, at the very least, pretend the little ninja on her shirt was a skilled fighter who talked like a baby in order to confuse her opponents. Much of her clothing was either in bright pinks or purples that hurt her eyes just staring at them or were cut in such a way that made them look more like sports bras than shirts. She silently longed for winter to arrive, as she'd found plenty of sweaters and pullovers that she could stomach wearing.

'The fact that I have, like, two or three shirts that I'd let Shayera catch me is like totally Future Diana's problem,' she thought to herself before her eye went wide. 'Oh Hera... tell me I didn't just think that.'

She glanced at her phone and scowled, silently blaming it for her current dialect issues. She'd done well to hide it from Clark and Bruce and the rest, but from the moment they'd gotten out of school she'd been receiving texts from Aresia and Artemis and Minerva, asking her how it was going and commenting on the silliest little things. It had been a punch in the gut to see her sisters, who she thought of as fierce and proud warriors, giggling about boys and trashing what other people were wearing. Even with Aresia, who had become her enemy, it was painful; Diana knew she was wrong (now especially as she had, in the words of Flash 'finally removed that stick from her rear' and realized that women weren't that superior to men) but still respected her as a warrior. It was hard to see Aresia reduced to being a catty cheerleader.

Remembering what Bruce had said about blending in, Diana had found herself lying on her bed, which was much too soft, and having to text back to the girls in a convincing manner. It had been hard at first but she'd found that given enough time she could go into almost a trance. The words came easy then and the silly little slang that her 'friends' used easily appeared on the screen of her phone. She'd talked about bands she didn't remember and celebrities she didn't care about with the same enthusiasm as the other girls.

The only time things had gotten awkward was when the girls turned their attention towards Clark. Texts about how hot he looked at lunch and how much they wanted to run their fingers through his hair and find out what his lips tasted like. Diana had gagged at that one; yes, Clark was very attractive but they saw each other as brother and sister and the idea of being with Clark in that way left Diana shuddering. It was bad enough discovering those… websites… dedicated to the league that had stories about her and Superman and their tragically beautiful love affair (or beautifully tragic… she couldn't remember which way it went). She'd tried to move the conversations and texts away from that kind of talk but her 'friends' wouldn't hear of it. Apparently Clark was quite a catch and, in this reality, she'd been trying to seduce him since Freshman year. She'd recoiled at that little fact, finding it to be more of something Circe might do. Worse, she got the sinking feeling that this world's Diana was only interested in having Clark on her arm as a prize to be shown off. That she could be that shallow horrified her.

It had taken her over an hour and 57 texts to finally get the other girls to leave her alone. She'd been polite but firm, claiming she had to go silent due to having supper with her mother. That much was true, so it wasn't exactly a lie.

Diana took a deep breath and looked herself over one last time. 'As much as I would prefer to wear something a bit more tasteful and professional, I don't want to raise any suspicion that I am not myself.' She struck a quick pose, one hand on her hip as she stuck her butt out a bit. 'And besides... this top does make me look super yummy-NO!' She glared at her reflection, jabbing a finger at it. "No, bad Diana, no talky like thaty... what in Tartarus' name is wrong with me?!" She shut her eyes and took focused. "I am Diana... I am princess of the Amazons. I may look like a teenager but I am not one. I do not use words like 'yummy' or 'howt' and I do not insert 'like' between every other word."

"Diana? Are you up there?"

The young Amazon looked at her door, relief and dread warring in her. Relief that she was going to get to have a simple meal with her mother... dread that she would be having dinner with her mother who might not act anything like her mother at all. "Yes, I'll be down in a minute mother!" Looking at her mirror one last time, she gave her reflection one last hard stare before turning on her toes and hurrying towards the door.

~JL~JL~JL~

Across town another member of the Justice League was sitting down to dinner with his mother and finding it just as difficult as Diana did.

It took all of Bruce's resolve not to fidget. His mother, who he hadn't seen in decades, was sitting right next to him. The old memories that had long faded from his mind had come roaring back when he'd gotten near her. She still wore the perfume she preferred, bought from a little salon she favored, over the more expensive brands her friends were always trying to get her to try on. Her laugh, which started off light and soft but could build to a raging howl if something really tickled her, returned with crystal clarity and had Bruce struggling to control his emotions. She'd patted him on the shoulder as she rolled in for supper and Bruce had found himself not the man he was mentally or the teenager he was physically but the small 8 year old boy who just wanted to hug his mommy and never let go.

Such feelings were made stronger by how close she was. It would have been different if they dined in the main dining room, where he himself had eaten many lonely and quiet dinners when he wasn't at the bat computer. But apparently after the death of his father his mother had found it too painful to have meals there and thus she'd converted one of the rooms next door into a family dining room with a smaller, four person table. That meant that Bruce and her were side by side, enjoying one of Alfred's amazing pasta dishes. There was no distance to act as a buffer between them and Bruce squirmed a bit whenever he caught sight of her from the corner of his eye.

It was like eating with a ghost.

If Martha Wayne feelings any discomfort she doesn't show it. Bruce had long come to see when smiles were fake and laughter was forced and neither of those things were happening when it came to his mother. She would glance at him from time to time and just… smile. It was a secret smile, one he himself had indulged in when he saw Dick or Barbara or Tim do something amazing. Only a parent could recognize it for what it was.

"This is delicious, Alfred."

"Thank you. Though I think I should have left the bread in the oven for a moment more."

Martha shook her head, chuckling. "You are too hard on yourself."

That is something else that was strange and different. Alfred, sitting just across from him, enjoying the dinner he had made. Bruce had hid his surprise well when, after Alfred placed the plates in front of Martha and him, the dignified butler had served himself and sat down at the table with them. He had done it so casually that Bruce knew this wasn't something new; this was routine, a common occurrence. It seemed that his mother found it too lonely to just dine by herself or with Bruce and had convinced Alfred to join them for their meals.

And to Bruce's shame, he realized just how right it was for him to be there, sitting at the table, enjoying the meal he'd worked so hard to make. Watching him Bruce couldn't help but feel like a giant ass. Alfred had been a second father to him and yet he never invited the man to sit down and have dinner with him or to enjoy the comforts of his study, sharing a brandy on a cold night. Oh, he'd cared for Alfred and hoped that the old man knew that… but still, in that moment Bruce felt it hadn't been enough.

He should have done more. Like his mother had apparently done.

"How was your first day back?" Martha asked.

"Normal for a first day, I suppose," Bruce said honestly. He knew he should be acting a bit more sullen or moody, as he could sense that such emotions were the normal for him in this reality as much as they had been in his own, but when he looked at his mother he couldn't bring himself to behave like that. Not to her. "Selina mentioned we might be doing Phantom this year."

"Oh!" Martha said in delight. "That will certainly be a nice change of pace. Yes yes, I know you prefer 'The Bard' but sometimes I like actually understand the words that are coming out of your mouth when you are on stage." She casually flipped her hand back and forth, a move Bruce remembered all too well from his childhood. She'd done the same thing whenever his father said something she found silly.

'My father,' Bruce thought, his mood darkening. He supposed it would have been too much to hope for that in this new reality the Wayne family might have been spared the horror of that night in the alley. But it was not to be. Joe Chill had robbed them of that hope. His father had been shot before his eyes. His mother too, only in this reality instead of being granted a quick death she had been cursed to live out her days in a wheelchair. Bruce's hand balled into a fist. He remembered well how much his mother liked to dance, how she enjoyed moving about with ease and grace. That had been robbed from her, along with her husband, by a punk with a gun. It seemed that even in this new reality of Anarchy's creation criminals-

"Oh, don't brood, sweetheart," Martha said gently, snapping Bruce out of his dark thoughts. "I was only teasing you." It took him a moment to realize that she wasn't referring to the thoughts he was having about his father but rather her presumption that he was upset about the Drama Club not doing a Shakespeare play for their Fall Season.

'What a strange, simple life I lead if that is my biggest problem,' he thought before answering his mother with a slight smile. "It is… ok. Besides, it might work out for the best." Seeing his mother raise her perfectly sculpted eyebrow at that, Bruce decided to kill two birds with one stone. "I'm thinking of taking a supporting role in this production. I'm going to need a bit more free time and I can't have that if I am the lead." The truth was that he wanted to quit all together but knew that such actions would only draw suspicion.

"Oh?" Martha said with a sly smile. "And just what might you need that free time for? It wouldn't be a girl, would it?"

Bruce had dealt with awkward moments. He'd had to give Dick the dreaded Birds-And-The-Bees talk, he'd once walked in on an epic Shayera-John fight that saw both of them demanding he be the moderator, and he'd seen the Penguin naked. But short of that one horrible night where he'd discovered Harley riding around on the Joker's back with a riding crop in her hand, this moment was the most awkward, painful moment of his existence.

Having to deal with his mother asking about his love life… nothing could prepare him for this.

'I suppose I could tell her the truth,' he thought sardonically. 'Well mom, you needn't worry, as I have actually slept with quite a few women, including 4 of the 5 last Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue Covergirls. At least three of them were supervillains.'

Bruce found that he didn't need to pretend to be a teenager at the moment; this conversation would have made him squirm even if he were in his normal body.

"Not… entirely," Bruce finally managed to get out.

"Oh?" Martha asked with a teasing smile. "And what is that suppose to mean?"

"Nothing, it's just… a study group."

"You, needing a study group?" Martha asked. "And how many girls are in this study group?"

"…two."

Martha merely glanced at Alfred, both of them wearing little infuriating little smirks.

"But there are three other guys also there, before you get any ideas. I'm not like Clark and his harem."

"Clark?" Martha asked. Bruce mentally cursed. He hadn't meant to let that part slip out. He was getting sloppy in his old age… youth… "So, who is this Clark who has a harem? I don't remember a Clark among your theater buddies."

"He isn't," Bruce answered. He'd found early on his career that a lie worked better when it was wrapped in as much of the truth as possible. "I had lunch with him and another guy, John Stewart, and we just got along well. It's a study group technically but you could say it is just an excuse for us to hang out. John's friends with Wally, Wally is friends with Shayera… and Diana and Clark…"

"Well, I think it's great!" Martha said as Bruce trailed off. "You know I think you need to relax more, sweetheart. The last few years your entire life has been going to school, rehearsing for plays, and spending time on your computer. Hanging out with other kids you wouldn't normally be around is wonderful."

Bruce let out a sigh of relief. Had his mother objected things would have gotten hairy. The 'study group' would serve as the perfect cover, allowing him to meet with the rest of the league and, once he had his new batsuit finished, begin going on patrols without having to worry about his mother trying to figure out how her son spent his afternoons and evenings.

"Besides," Martha continued, "maybe they can get you to like something other than the Bard."

"Now, Martha, don't be too hard on him," Alfred said with a smile, dabbing the corner of his mouth with his napkin. "I think it is wonderful that Bruce has a taste for the classics."

"Of course you would think that," Martha teased, flashing Alfred a smile. "Brits…"

"And what is wrong with being a Brit?" Alfred shot back, though he smiled the entire time he said it. "We are a nationality of culture and dignity that gave the world the Bard and wonderful actors and-"

"Harry Potter?" Martha asked.

"And him too!" Alfred said with a laugh.

Bruce remained silent as his mother and Alfred bantered. The world seemed to slow as he entered what Dick had once lovingly dubbed 'detective mode'. The world faded away and all the little clues that most men would miss suddenly appeared before him in stunning clarity. He thought back to the way the maids had behaved that morning, talking with Alfred not like he was the head of the staff but master of the house. He remembered how his mother had waved to both of them as they left that morning. Bruce stared at Alfred's suit and realized it wasn't the normal set of tails he wore; this one was more casual. Martha was laughing with delight as Alfred said something, her eyes twinkling. Alfred was seated at the table, positioning himself not only across from Bruce but at Martha's side, allowing her to reach over and take his hand in hers…

"You're dating."

Martha and Alfred both froze, their heads almost comically turning as one to stare at Bruce, who looked back at them utterly gobsmacked. A look of shame but also dignity, refusing to deny the charge, crossed both their features.

The three of them just stared at each other in awkward silence. Bruce didn't even flinch when Anarchy popped in behind his mother and Alfred, holding a banjo. His mouth was open to make a joke, only to see the situation he'd ported into. The titan-god silently held up his hands and, with a grimace, backed out of the room.

~JL~JL~JL~

Diana stole a quick glance at her mother and fought the giddy little smile that threatened to blossom on her lips. It had simply been too long since the two of them had actually sat down and enjoyed a meal, just the two of them. Growing up, Queen Hippolyta was always finding something to occupy her time, leaving Diana in the care of her fellow sisters. The queen didn't abandon her daughter at all; she always made time for Diana and the princess had never felt unloved. It was just that the ability to sit down and have a meal seemed to allude the two of them. It only got worse when Diana grew older and she ventured out of the palace. There was always an adventure to be had or an event she had to go to. That made the princess and her mother's schedules very hard to coordinate and thus left them spending time together when they could and not when they might like to. An odd 3 am meeting on a balcony or a quick horse ride to their respective destinations. It worked well for them... until that fateful night when Diana had heard the predictions of the oracle and stolen the bracelets, tiara and lasso and made her way to Man's World. New allies, new enemies, banishment and hurt feelings had separated mother and daughter and it had only been within the last year that the rift had begun to mend.

Tonight though was something different, something special. Just the two of them, enjoying a simple meal of roasted chicken and potatoes, with no distractions and no outside forces seeking to pull them apart. Diana happily listened to her mother, marveling at how she could be so different yet be the same. Hippolyta was not a Queen in this reality but an ambassador, representing Themyscira at the UN in New York. Hippolyta told Diana all about the recent rumblings over the increased isolationism of Kahndaq. The hero trapped in a teen's body merely smiled, biting her tongue as she fought the urge to give her own opinion on the country. There was no real need, anyway, as her mother was a sharp woman and seemed to think along the same lines as Diana.

"Ok," Hippolyta said, laying her fork down, "enough about me. Tell me about your first day back at school."

Diana's smile dropped a bit at that. "It was alright, I suppose. We had to do a routine in front of the whole school and I thought we did pretty good. Artemis thinks Minerva didn't stick her landing right but I thought she did pretty well. Math was boring as was science but I did enjoy English class. We are going to be reading some of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock stories…"

Hippolyta pursed her lips, staring hard at Diana. "Alright, who are you and what did you do with my daughter?"

Diana's eyes went wide with fear. "I... I..." Her mother's stare never wavered and Diana felt her teenage body's become flooded with fear. She'd stared down Lord Hades and Darkseid and Mongul and yet looking upon her mother had her rambling like crazy. "I am Diana but not the Diana you know. I'm really from another reality where I am 30 years old but this titan-god named Anarchy rewrote the universe and placed all of the Justice League, that's the group I'm with, we're heroes and we fight evil and save the planet and yes there are some men on it mother but you'd like them so please don't be too mad I am friends with them especially Bruce who I wish would be more than friends with because seriously, how can he not get the hint that I like him, what do I need to do shove his head between my breaths, but anyway Anarchy rewrote all of reality and forced us into these bodies-"

Diana paused, taking several deep gulps of air, watching as her mother twitched a bit, her lips curling up.

"Are... are you laughing at me?"

Hippolyta couldn't stop herself from bursting into a full body-shaking peel of laughter. "Oh, there is the little girl I raised!" She wiped away a tear while Diana just stared at her, slack-jawed. "I must say, I have never met anyone that could ramble as quickly as you! I think I might have gotten only every 5th word there!"

Diana blushed, suddenly finding her plate much more interesting than her mother.

Reaching over, Hippolyta playfully squeezed her daughter's shoulder. "Now now, I tease because I love. I wouldn't want you any other way, my little sun and stars."

"But... what if I was different?" Diana asked. "What if I... didn't want to be a cheerleader anymore? Or I didn't want to talk about boys and music and tv shows and movies? What if I wanted to focus on more serious things?"

"And what, exactly, would these 'serious things' be?" Hippolyta asked.

Diana took a breath, deciding then and there to take a risk. "My Amazon training."

She could see that she'd clearly surprised her mother with that one. "And here I thought you were going to mention a boy." Diana merely stared at her mother, trying her hardest not to scowl. "Diana... no."

The Amazon teen looked at her mother in utter disbelief. Of all the possible answers she could have gotten to her inquiry, a flat rejection had never crossed her mind as a possibility. Diana's brain tried to wrap itself around that answer, reasoning that maybe she'd misheard or that her mother didn't understand her request. There was simply no way her mother could just flat out deny her what was her heritage.

Her disbelief must have shown on her face because Hippolyta reached over and gently placed her hand over her daughter's. "Diana... to train to be an Amazon warrior is... it is one of the most difficult and brutal things any of us can go through. It must only be attempted by one who is willing to commit fully to the training. It cannot be taken up on a whim. If you fail, if you stop or find it too tough and give in you are never allowed to try once more. That is why it must only be attempted when you are truly ready."

"But I am ready!" Diana exclaimed, frustration tinting her words.

"Diana... you aren't. There is too much going on in your life right now for you to attempt this."

"I'll... I'll quit cheerleading!" Diana practically yelled. "And you can have my phone, I won't talk to Aresia or Artemis or anyone else. Only school and training!"

Hippolyta sadly shook her head. "And tomorrow you will begin missing your phone and complain that swinging a sword is stupid and you will stop. The training cannot be done on a whim."

"This isn't a whim!" Diana roared, slamming her fist against the table. "I am ready! Give me the trials if you don't believe me!"

"Now I know you are being foolish," Hippolyta calmly lifted up her glass of wine and took a sip. "You would not last a minute."

"I would outlast them all," Diana said firmly.

"Arrogance and rashness are not the marks of an Amazon warrior," Hippolyta chided.

"And fear is not one either, yet you clearly embody that!" Diana retorted, standing up. Her blood was boiling and she couldn't tell if it was her teenage heart or her adult mind that was fueling her rage. Perhaps it was both at the same time.

Hippolyta narrowed her eyes, looking at Diana like she was 3 years old again and caught tracking mud through the palace. "I will pretend that this outburst is because you are tired and worn out from your first day at school. Do not, however, expect my leniency to extend to a second outburst."

Diana, with an icy stare that would have made Killer Frost shiver, locked eyes with her mother. "And I will pretend it is your own maternal instructs and not you being a pig-headed, brain addled, thick-skulled fool that causes you to doubt your own daughter and treat her so poorly." She slammed her chair against the table and stormed off. "Goodnight, mother."

Hippolyta took a long suffering sigh when she heard Diana's door slam. "Teenagers..."

~JL~JL~JL~

Night had long fallen and the town of Happy Harbor had drifted to sleep. Few were up at that late of an hour, mostly a few drunks at the local bar, and a handful of emergency personal. None of them were anywhere near Keane Forrest, and thus none of them were witness to the newest arrival.

A large grayish blue ship streaked through the sky, its front glowing red as it burst through Earth's atmosphere. The ship trembled slightly, on a slight wobble, as it fought the gravity pull, before firing off several frontal rocket ports to slow its descent. Still, it had come in too hot and too quick and with a great boom it struck the forest, decimating a good acre of land. Dirt and timber flew into the air as the ship settled into the crater it had made, the metal hull hissing slightly as it cooled in the moist air of the forest.

All was quiet. All was still.

And then a green hand thrust through the metal hull, finger-like talons curled as an unearthly roar pierced the darkness.

Sitting in a tree, Anarchy tilted his head. "Well… that's flippin' ominous."

~JL~JL~JL~

Author's Note: Yes, I had Wonder Woman say 'yummy' in reference to herself. Feminists all over are screaming in outrage. In my defense, this is a parody of such character types and Diana is rightfully horrified. And, of course, it wouldn't be a comedy if I didn't have the League struggling.

I didn't mention it when it first appeared, but the idea that Barry is all 'into his emotions' comes from TheBlackCat's Batman and Sons series of comics. If you haven't read them, the premise is that Batman has Dick, Jason and Tim all as his Robins (with Dick being around 13 or so, Jason around 10 or 11 and Tim around 8). Bruce also has a son with Catwoman named Terry, who is a baby that wears the Batman Beyond suit (of course, for him, it is a onesie). The series deals with the League and their families (IE, Lois and Clark are married and raising little Connor, Kara and Chris Kent while Green Arrow has his own brood of kids). Barry in it is very emotional and trying to make the peace… but also fears Batman. When Hal decides to dump some water on Batman as a prank Barry screams "NO HAL, I WANT TO LIVE!"

I could make a joke about 'the bulter did it' but I think I am better than that.

And finally yes, Anarchy… that was rather ominous.