"You need to calm down," Karen intoned, fixing Anthony with a look from where she was pacing.

To say Anthony was offended would be an understatement. "I resent the implication that I am not—by far!—the calmest person in this room right now."

"Your Mother is asleep," Karen pointed out.

"No…no I'm not," Pam sat up groggily. "And I resent that imp—,"

"—I hate every single one of you right now, I swear to God," Karen continued to pace. "And that includes the world's most indecisive fetus. He didn't get that from me, either. That's a Quinzel trait."

"Karen, what are you talking about?" Anthony demanded. "You broke up with me and then two days later decided to take a cross-country trip just to apologize. You're literally the least decisive person I know. I, on the other hand, have been fairly blatant with my intentions from the—,"

"—motherfucker, I don't know if you're whitesplaining or mansplaining right now, but either way I. don't. like. it."

Anthony shrunk back, nodding. "Sorry, sorry, you're having a baby, I'll just shut up."

"Yeah, your baby," Karen pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Yours. You did this to me."

"Babe, I am so…so sorry," Anthony took her hand. "I hate myself, and I hate the baby preemptively." He let that ride for a moment as Karen nodded decidedly, satisfied with his statement.

…but Anthony could only let it go on for a moment before he had to set the record straight: "That's a lie, I love him already. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me and he hasn't even happened yet."

"OK, that's it!" Pam shouted, standing up. "We've been here 12 hours, I'm inducing labor."

They all turned to face the door as it was pushed open. "You were gonna induce labor before the midwife came back?" Harley asked, nonplussed. "Doesn't exactly seem like a smart move, Pamela."

"You're not a midwife," Pam pointed out.

"You're right," Harley agreed, setting her bag down. "I'm a doctor."

"So am I," Pam reminded her.

"No, you're a doctor," Harley put air quotes around the word. "Nice try, but an PhD isn't the same as an M.D."

"Fine," Karen groaned. "Two PhDs, an M.D. and an honorable mention," she nodded at Anthony. "We're all smart, yay us. Now, between the four of us, do you think we'll eventually be able to get this baby out of me, or…"

"Hey! Geez, sorry we're late," Jolene apologized as she yanked the door open, panting a bit. "Damian had to give me a ride…over here," she squinted, weighing something in her head before nodding quickly. "Anyway, we brought donuts!" She grinned, presenting Damian (who had funneled in behind her carrying a box from the bakery down the street).

"You brought donuts to a birth?" Anthony questioned, obviously bewildered. "Are you 10 years old?"

"10 and a half!" Jo stomped.

"And Damian," Pam pointed out, more critical than puzzled. "Donuts and Damian."

"Two of my fa—least favorite things!" Jo exclaimed, her shaky delivery only adding to the confusion in the room.

Pam raised an eyebrow. "Faleast favorite things?"

"Yes," Jo doubled down. "Faleast. Halfway between 'favorite' and 'least'…meaning donuts are my favorite and Damian is my least favorite, obviously. It's teen slang, Mom. I wouldn't expect you to be privy."

"Umm…shut up, how about?" Karen not-so-kindly suggested. "I'm in pain here? So…somebody make that different? Preferably the walking marijuana leaf over here?"

"Is that—that's me, isn't it," Pam acknowledged, making her way over to the kit she'd packed. "It's an incorrect classification of my anatomy, but I understand that in a more relaxed setting that could be been seen as humorous."

"This baby. Out of me. Now." Karen growled.

/

Pamela sat back once Karen began to push. Surprisingly, Harley did seem to have the situation under control, and was pretty collected given the enormity of this moment.

Pam watched silently as Karen gripped Anthony's hand and he smoothed her hair down, whispering in her ear and resting his forehead against her cheek as she sweat, moaning from pain and exertion.

If someone had told the Poison Ivy sitting in her cell on March 1st, 1997, that in three years, she'd be married to the blonde doctor whose credentials she'd just insulted…or that in 13 years she'd be asking Batman to help her have children with said Doctor…or that in 18 years she'd have two children that were biologically hers, and in another 13 she'd be sending her son to college, and her daughter would be on everybody's TV screen in another two…that three years after that their daughter would be Batgirl and their son would be holding his girlfriend's hand as she delivered his baby…Ivy would have probably told them that they belonged in that cell rather than her.

But here she was. And that had been the story of her life thus far. The young woman tied down to the table, the villain who fed men to her flytraps with a reckless abandon was now the happily married superhero sitting in one of the Justice League's hospital rooms—just a few doors down from the one she'd spent a week in suffering through her mutation—preparing to be a grandmother.

That was…odd. Odd for any parent, she assumed, to watch your child begin their journey same as you did with them…but it felt especially odd for Pamela because—she was Poison Ivy. The Poison Ivy, and—

—she was pulled from her thoughts when she heard him cry. The baby…

Pam remembered how frightened Harley had been when Anthony didn't cry when she first pulled him out of the incubation tank…but Anthony himself had nothing to be frightened of. His baby was here, and he was holding him with wonder and love in his eyes as he gently laid the boy down on Karen's chest.

They'd been wondering for months what he would look like when he came out given his interesting mix of heritage. Would he be green like his father or dark like his mother? Pam breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw the boy took after Karen…teaching Anthony pigment control had been exhausting, and she had not been looking forward to repeating that process.

But Pam did find that the baby took after her side of the family in one key regard: his eyes were bright green, glowing like Pam's did when she employed her powers. That was odd for a few reasons: one being their nearly supernatural appearance, and two being that with the amount of melanin evident in the baby's skin, his eyes likely should have been brown, and if not—blue, being that he was a newborn. But no—his eyes were green, and Ivy was already brainstorming ways to disguise them when Harley asked: "What's his name?"

"It's up to Karen," Anthony smiled, kissing her on the forehead.

"Duke," she announced. "His name is Duke."

/

"Oh my God!" Jo laughed, punching Damian in the arm. "You're such a pussy."

"I am not!" Damian caviled.

"No, you're right," Jo was still laughing. "Pussies are awesome. Karen's just stretched enough to let a complete human being through. Nah, you're a scrotum."

"Why?!"

"Because one little tap," she illustrated her point by doing just that, and grinned as Damian grunted in pain. "And you're done." She skipped on ahead of him. "Yeah, you know what?" she turned around, jogging backwards now and cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice: "I hereby decree being called a 'pussy' a compliment, and 'scrotum' an insult!"

The woman walking past her gave her a high five (to Jo's absolute delight) and Damian shook his head, although his smirk betrayed him. "You're an idiot." He told her.

"An idiot with a super cute fucking nephew, though." Jo grinned, stopping in front of the coffee shop and holding the door open for him.

"I think I'm supposed to do that," he pointed out, walking past her inside.

"Well you can shove your antiquated gender norms right up your ass, thank you very much." Jo stated matter-of-factly, getting in line. "I'll hold the door open if I damn well please, and you'll be grateful."

"Whatever," Damian exhaled, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes at how slow the baristas were moving. "What did Harleen want again?"

"Caramel macchiato," Jo said quickly, standing on her tippy-toes to see to the front of the line. "Can you believe my brother just had a baby?"

"Your brother's girlfriend just had a baby," Damian corrected.

"Pfft, OK, Mr. Politically Correct," Jo scoffed. "Sorry I'm not perfect all the time."

"You're not perfect any of the time," Damian casually reminded her.

"Ooooh, buuurrrrnnn," Jo mocked, bumping him with her shoulder.

Damian sighed, and was about to start in with something else when a woman (who was probably around 20, if Jo had to guess) tapped him on the arm.

"Excuse me," she said, clearly trying to tame her excitement. "Are you Damian Wayne?"

"Yeah…?" he answered with caution, eyeing her sideways. "Can I help you?"

"No—it's just—you're Damian Wayne!" Her smile looked like it was about to split her face as she blushed a deep red. "You're—oh my God, my friends are gonna flip! I saw you on the cover of CatCo and—you're even more gorgeous in person. Can I get a picture?"

"Umm…sure."

"Awesome!" The woman squealed. "Miss, could you—could you take a picture for us?"

Jo, who had been watching the exchange with notable amusement, blinked at that. "Miss?

"Could you take a picture of us?" the woman repeated, shoving her phone in Jo's face. "This is—he's Damian Wayne."

"Ya don't say…" Jo mumbled as she opened the camera app on the woman's phone, pointing it at them and waiting for Damian to at least attempt a smile. What he gave was weak, but…whatever, beggars can't be choosers. Jo snapped the picture and handed it back to her.

"Thank you so much!" the woman grinned, looking at her screen with the live action translation of heart-eyes.

Jo saw they were next and was beginning to move towards the counter when the woman continued: "This is crazy, I don't usually do this, but—,"

"Babe," Jo called behind her before she could think better of it. "It's our turn." Damian looked as confused as the woman did embarrassed as Jo took his hand in hers and pulled him forward. "Could we get a medium caramel macchiato, a medium green tea—but only if it's organic—a large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, a small black coffee and a small orange juice, please?" she asked the barista before glancing over at Damian. "And what did you want, Babe?"

"Oh—uh—black…just black. Coffee. I want coffee."

"And another black coffee—small." Jo instructed with an even tone, although she could feel her face getting hot. "That's all."

Jo sulked waiting for their order after Damian paid, scuffing her sneaker on the linoleum as Damian watched her with interest.

"Wait a minute…" he said, finally, and she could all but hear the squint in his eyes and the smirk on his lips. "Did you just get territorial?"

"I have no idea what you're referring to," she told him coolly, not quite meeting his gaze.

"Ha!" Damian laughed. "You got jealous just then! You felt threatened by that random girl."

"I did not," Jo snapped.

"Disguising," Damian was still laughing—a sound Jo wasn't even totally sure she'd ever heard before. "Absolutely disgusting."

"I didn't get jealous," Jo repeated, a bite to her tone as she rapped her fingers on the counter. "Why would I be jealous?"

"Look, Man, I don't give a shit either way," he was clearly having a lot of fun with this. "I'm just saying two and a half months of hate-fucking a guy is a little soon to be getting territorial, don't you think?"

Jo rolled her eyes, deciding not to engage any further.

"Pfft," he scoffed at her reaction, using her chin to tilt her face upwards. "You're so full of shit."

Their kiss was interrupted a few moments later when their drinks were set down beside them, and Jo's blush was so intense when Damian pulled away that she felt like dunking her head in a bucket of water.

/

Harley couldn't believe it. This baby—her baby had made this baby! And she was right, he was a boy and he was round! She'd totally called it!

Smiling like an idiot, she ghosted her lips against his little fingers again, closing her eyes as she breathed in his new baby scent.

"He's so perfect," Harley whispered. "Have you ever seen a baby so perfect?"

Pam shook her head. "Not since that one," she nodded towards Anthony, who was asleep on the bed with his arm around Karen.

"Duke," Harley pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "His name is Duke and he's my grandbaby."

"Our grandbaby," Pam corrected.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Harley chuckled. "I'm gonna hog him, though, I hope that's clear. Speaking of which…" she got up from her seat, pressing the boy to her chest. "We should probably go."

"You think so?" Pam was surprised.

"Yep," Harley nodded. "While they're asleep. Let's skedaddle." She grabbed another blanket off of the bed and headed for the door.

"Umm…aren't you forgetting something?" Pam asked, referencing the baby that was still in her arms.

"Why do you think we're leaving while they're asleep?"

Pam laughed. "Bring him back here. They deserve a chance to be parents just like we did."

"Noooooo," Harley whined, pouting as she languidly dragged herself back to her chair, prompting another laugh from Pam.

"You should probably at least have chocolate chip cookies mastered before you kidnap him," Pam suggested. "That's what Anthony wanted…" she trailed off as her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out.

"That from kitty?" Harley asked. "How far out are they?"

"No…" Pam sighed, annoyed. "It's a google alert. Bruce gave me the phone so, for some reason, whenever Wayne Enterprises is mentioned online I get an email. Can't figure out how to disable it."

"Huh…well I'm sure Anthony can do it for you when he wakes up," Harley turned her attention back to Duke.

"Damian Wayne is officially off the market," Pam read aloud.

Harley laughed. "I mean—I guess that's newsworthy…pretty sure that fucker's still a virgin." She looked over at Pam (who had yet to laugh at her joke) and found any traces of a smile had melted off of her face. "Who is it?" Harley prompted.

Without further warning, Pam turned and rifled her phone at the wall, shattering the screen into a million tiny pieces.

Anthony and Karen woke with a start, concern automatically etched into Anthony's expression. Harley held the baby closer to her and Karen still looked pretty out of it, but she was clearly unhappy at being awoken so suddenly from her well-deserved nap.

"Did she get her daddy issues from Bruce?" Pam angrily inquired. "How is that even possible?! He's not even her Dad! She doesn't have a Dad!"

"Pam, what the hell are you…" Harley trailed off as the door opened and Jo and Damian reentered, all smiles and rosy cheeks and—Christ. Really, Jo? Fucking really?

"Hey, good news! The tea was organic, Mom," Jo grinned, handing Pam her cup.

"Him?!" Pam was beside herself, taking the tea from her and slamming it down on the table. "Why, Jolene? Why?"

"I'm…what?" Both Jo and Damian looked thoroughly perplexed by this display. And that's when Damian's phone buzzed in his pocket. Still watching Pam, he pulled it out to check the notification, and just like Pam, his features drained of all joy.

"Fuck…"

"What?" Jo leaned over to look before her happiness befell the same fate. "OK, that is your fault."

"Whose fault? Mine?" Damian was incredulous. "How?"

"How? You're the one that initiated the fucking PDA!"

"PD…" Anthony frowned, examining the situation, putting the pieces together. "Oh Jesus Christ—Jolene, are you sleeping with Damian?"

Jo groaned, looking up at the ceiling, clearly wishing her powers included the ability to fly away. And when she didn't answer, Damian took it upon himself to announce something definitive.

"Yes, and she's head-over-heels in love with me to boot."