Batman sped the Batmobile out of the Batcave, already in a foul mood.

"Hey, can we stop at the drive-through?" asked Tim. "I'm hungry, and I didn't get much to eat since Dami hogged all the chocolate milk."

"We're in the Batmobile," Bruce rasped. "We can't go through the drive-through."

"I want another chocolate milk, father."

"I want spicy chicken wings."

"Can I get a-"

"Shut up. You can all eat when we get home," Bruce diplomatically suggested while pounding his fist on the dashboard.

"But Pennyworth won't have our after-duty meal prepared. Really father, it was quite short-sighted of you to allow him to take a vacation without finding a temporary replacement."

Bruce growled, and inwardly cursed the day he had decided Alfred deserved a vacation. "Fine. We can stop and get food. But I'm not driving the Batmobile through the drive-through. I'll park and you can walk."

There were sounds of protest until Bruce cut them off with a classic Bat-glare.

-x-

Twenty minutes later they all piled back into the Batmobile with their greasy food and crinkled wrappers.

"Hey look," Tim said as he emptied out his paper bag and got crumbs all over the seat. "I got a ninja assassin with my meal."

Dick laughed and picked up the tiny figurine with a sword. "It looks like Damian."

Damian started elbowing Tim in the ribs. "How dare you insult me by comparing me to a plastic figurine, Drake."

"Why are you blaming me? I didn't even say anything," Tim said and shoved Damian away forcefully enough that his head thunked against the Batmobile window. Fortunately the glass was breakproof.

"Hey, cut it out back there," Bruce roared, as he accepted a call to his Batcommunicator. Damian shoved Tim to the front of the Batmobile, knocking Bruce's arm and sending the communicator flying. Fortunately, Nightwing caught it, and took the call.

"What the $&#( did I just say about fighting in the Batmobile?" Bruce glared at Tim and Damian.

Damian glared back. "It's illegal to text and drive, father. You were breaking the law."

"I'm gonna be breaking something later all right," Bruce muttered under his breath. Then he remembered the call on the Batcommunicator. "Dick, did you manage to hear the call?"

"Uh, I couldn't hear everything, but Gordon said to make sure we checked on the large vine taking over Gotham's Sewage Treatment plant."

Bruce made a u-turn and pressed the gas. "Good," he said. Something was finally going his way. Maybe after pounding a criminal into the ground, the night would feel just a little better.

Dick sat back in his seat and smiled. "Sewage Treatment Plant. Guess that means we'll have to find the-"

Damian stopped trying to cut holes in Tim's cape and looked up. "Grayson, don't say it."

"Poop-a-trator," Dick finished, laughing at his own joke and dodging Damian's kicks to his ribs.

Tim groaned and facepalmed.

"Pay attention," Bruce growled while he jerked the wheel and crossed over the median onto another highway. "There's no time for any more nonsense. Nightwing, stop making pointless jokes. Obviously Poison Ivy is our main suspect at this point. Damian, try to behave, or tomorrow night you're going to stay home and clean the mansion."

"Poison Ivy, huh? Can't she ever leaf Gotham alone?"

Damian frowned. "Grayson, please refrain from murdering the English language, it's not amusing."

Bruce slammed on the brakes. "What did I just say?"

"Poison Ivy is the suspect, and the Water Treatment Plant is just ahead so we need to prepare," Tim supplied helpfully. "Oh wow, that's a huge vine!"

And indeed it was. Gotham's Waste Water Treatment facility stretched out in front of them, all gray buildings, huge winding pipes, and concrete tanks. The concrete was cracked in areas with deep fissures, and a large green vine grew out and around, twirling up to the top of the buildings.

"Looks like we found the root of the problem," Nightwing quipped.

Bruce ignored the latest pun and parked the Batmobile. "I have some Roundup in the trunk. Might as well keep this simple."

"It almost seems too easy," Tim mused.

"Don't be stupid, Drake. Herbicides kill plants. Or do you need to retake-"

"I meant the vine. Why would Ivy take over a Sewage Treatment Plant, and why isn't she guarding it?"

"Never mind that," Bruce barked. "Everyone grab a sprayer and we can finish this now."

So they sprayed herbicide on the giant vine until it drooped and wilted. Then they heard a scream from inside.

"Our work here is done," Batman said heroically.

Poison Ivy emerged from the building. Her red hair was dripping wet and she held a piece of wilted vine in her hand. "What have you done?"

"Defeated you again," Batman said. "Next we'll give you a complimentary ride to the Police Station."

Poison Ivy stomped her feet and shrieked. "I can't believe it. Do you have something against plants? Even when I finally get legal permission to grow my genetically modified super-filtrating vines here, YOU STILL KILL THEM ALL!"

Tim face-palmed. "Uh, Nightwing, what did Gordon say."

"Something about checking out a vine, and we all assumed-"

"That he wanted us to get rid of it, not 'check' on it," Tim groaned.

Batman called Gordon and confirmed the bad news: Poison Ivy did indeed have a contract to improve Gotham's sewage treatment with the help of plants that were genetically modified to efficiently filter waste particles.

Then they all stood around and glumly stared at the dead vine.

"Is there anyway we can…fix it?" Batman asked.

"Yes, but the dead vine and all the sludge that's contaminated by the herbicide has to be removed first." Ivy's frown turned into a malicious smirk. "Of course, if you wanted to make everything up to me, you could shovel all the sludge out of these pipes where the vine was planted."

Batman sighed. "Robin, Nightwing, go find some shovels."

Two hours later, Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Nightwing were covered in sludge, and the smelled like an outhouse that had been flooded, doused in herbicides, and then stored in a football team's locker room for two weeks.

Ivy, on the other hand was enjoying the show. She had pulled up a lawn chair, had a glass of lemonade, and smirked as she watched Batman and the others grunt and struggle to shovel sludge.

"Hey, I'm out of lemonade. Who wants to get me a refill?"

"I will." Nightwing dropped his shovel and went to bring the spare lemonade in the Batmobile. "It's nice to see you're branching out into more humanitarian projects."

Ivy winced at the pun, but accepted her lemonade.

Bruce leaned on his shovel. "You know, you could help."

Ivy's grin grew wider. "What, and miss all the entertainment?"

Three hours later, they all piled into the Batmobile, and Bruce headed home. "If anyone makes a joke, they're walking." No one said a word the entire ride home.

Five miles away, the Joker turned to his hostage. "Well Frankie, I guess Batsy doesn't value your life after all. What a shame. And I thought investment bankers were important."

Franklin Ross struggled and pulled at the ropes that bound his hands to a chair.

"We'll have none of that!" the Joker raged and kicked the chair out from under him. "Now where were we? I could kill you now, Frankie…" the Joker paused considering, then picked the chair back up and set it upright. "or you could help me make a huge scene that'll be sure to get all of Gotham's attention tomorrow. Whatya say, partner?"

"Please don't kill me," Franklin sobbed.

"Oh you're so boring." The Joker paused, trying to decide whether or not to chuck the unfortunate man off the side of the building. "But that's okay, I'm the one who comes up with the jokes around here. Oh and it'll be a good one tomorrow. I'm sure even a bore like you will laugh."