Pamela had always been a careful person. She had an analytical mind. A scientific thought-process. She had never been the sort of villain to break things just for the sake of it. She wasn't Joker. Her lifeblood was not chaos.

So it had taken some time. Taken a lot of time. But she had finally arrived at a decision.

She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head as she pulled up to the gate at Wayne Manor.

"Who is it?" A male voice came from the intercom.

"I know you can see me," Pam waved. "Just let me in."

"Who is it?" The voice repeated.

"It's Ivy! Who the fuck does it look like?!"

"Well…Aquawoman, sorta."

"Dick," Pam's patience was already gone. "I know it's you. Just open the fucking gate."

"You in a bad mood?"

"Not until this exchange, I wasn't."

"Fine." Dick's spirits had clearly been dampened and so he forfeited, opening the gate for her.

...but only halfway, trapping her car between the doors so she couldn't move forward.

"Dick! You're going to scratch my car, you…"

"Dick?"

Pam sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Yeah."

Dick laughed, opening the gate the rest of the way. "Come on in."

Selina was sitting at the kitchen bar eating a bowl of cereal when Pam let herself in. She had clearly just been through a workout as she was dressed in a pair of spandex shorts and a sweaty tank top.

"Hey," Selina greeted, not looking up from whatever she was reading on her phone as she took another bite of…Honey Combs. Jolene would spit that back on the counter, Pam thought. "This gossip rag thinks I had plastic surgery."

Pam sighed. "You have to ignore that stuff, Selina. It's all trash."

Selina shrugged. "I guess I'm vain…Oh, hey, did you see the Gotham Star this week?"

"No…" Pam sat down, tossing her car keys onto the counter. "Did Hillary Clinton pop out another alien baby? Or did they finally decide to leave her alone?"

"Ha," Selina scoffed, navigating to the magazine's homepage. "Like that'll ever happen. No, here…" She passed Pam the phone, who took it apprehensively. "They seem to think Batman and Poison Ivy are fucking." Selina translated the headline that was splayed overtop a picture of the two on a rooftop wherein Ivy had her hand on Batman's chest.

"That is such bullshit!" was Pam's immediate reaction. "I'm not sleeping with Bruce! I have never slept with Bruce."

Selina laughed. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. And what happened to 'you just have to ignore it. It's all trash'?"

Pam ignored her. "That picture is being taken completely out of context."

"So what was the context?" Selina wanted to know.

"I was…" Pam had to think for a moment. "Oh! I was telling him how ugly I thought my new suit was." Pam remembered.

"Yeah, not a fan of the teal." Selina agreed. "The black was a lot sexier."

"Thank you." Pam breathed a sigh of relief at their shared opinion. "And then I told him I didn't like his logo redesign either, and I had to show him where I thought the bat wings were too fat."

Selina laughed. "Makes total sense to me."

"Where do they get off reporting outright lies?" Pam demanded. "See, this is the true human condition. Just this festering—"

"You need to calm yourself." Selina said. "Just…chill, please." She waited until Pam was starring angrily down into her lap before continuing. "Now why are you here, bugging me on a Saturday? Isn't there a…child's soccer game you should be at or something?"

That seemed to turn Pam around rather quickly, because when she looked up to meet Selina's eyes, it was with a warm smile on her face. "Flag Football, actually. I never much saw the appeal, but Jolene is very passionate about it."

Selina chuckled. "Jo is the one playing football? Not Anthony?"

"Oh, no." Pam shook her head. "Anthony isn't exactly enamored by athletics. He's a fairly talented pianist, though. And a—"

"Pam!" Selina stopped her, looking almost terrified as the redhead threatened to rattle on. "Why are you here?"

"Oh—I…I need to talk to Bruce." Pam said.

"Mm." Selina grunted, dismissively, getting up and beckoning for Ivy to follow her into the elevator. She silently pressed the button and crossed her arms as the car took them up to the top floor where Pam knew Bruce's study was located.

"You…" Pam cleared her throat. "You look good…"

Selina stared straight ahead. "Thanks."

Then the elevator dinged and Selina led them out into the hallway, passing a few bedrooms and the library until Selina was opening a large oak door, revealing Bruce working at his computer.

"I'd appreciate a knock…" He intoned, not acknowledging them further.

"Noted." Selina and Pam said together…with the same snide cadence. They turned to look at each other, both with an arched eyebrow, and then Bryce was looking at them too, his eyes narrowed.

"What is this…?" She asked, cautiously.

"I don't know," Selina plopped down in the leather chair in the corner. "Ask Pam."

Bruce looked at Pam expectantly, and she swallowed. "Firstly…did you receive my memo?"

He sat back in his chair, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. Sighing, he asked: "Which one? If it's about your suit—I'm sorry the color palette is not to your liking."

"It's just—it's really ugly, Bruce!" Pam complained. "Booster keeps calling me 'Mera', and I can't even argue because the reality is I look like a goddamn seahorse in that thing!"

"I thought you would appreciate an updated color scheme."

"Why, Bruce? Why?!" Pam demanded. "Do I seem like the kind of person that appreciates a drastic change of appearance?"

"She's got a reputation to protect, Bruce." Selina helped her out.

"I've got a reputation to protect, Bruce!" Pam seconded.

Bruce was massaging his temples, his eyes closed in a clear attempt at something approaching 'zen'. "For you, Pamela, I will take another look at the design."

"Great," Selina pulled herself out of her chair. "Glad we got that settled."

"Where are you going?" Bruce asked, watching as she moved towards the door.

"To steal something." Selina had her hand on the knob. "And if either of your assholes try to stop me I'm going straight to the Gotham Star to tell them Pam lets you take her from behind. And by that I mean up the—"

"Selina!" Pam was horrified.

But Bruce sat with his brow furrowed, mulling that over. "I fail to see how that would reflect negatively on me." Before he'd even finished his sentence, though, the potted plant on his desk began to tremble, mirroring Ivy's look of fury as her fists clenched. "Oh…got it." He uneasily moved the plant to the ground. "Keep the price tag under one million."

"Two!" Selina negotiated.

"One and a quarter."

"One and a half!"

"Fine." Bruce waved her away and she shut the door behind her with a satisfied smile.

Pam turned to him once she was gone, her arms crossed, residual anger still marring her fair features.

"I always pay them back," Bruce assured her. He watched as the redhead rolled her eyes and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "So what do you actually want? Because there's no way you came up here on your day off just to complain about the shade of green I used on your suit."

"Right…" Pam cleared her throat and reached into the pocket of her jacket, producing her S.T.A.R. labs ID card. Silently, she slid it across his desk.

"What's this?" He asked, pointing to it without picking it up.

"I—I'm retiring." She told him. "For this lifetime, anyway."

"What?"

"I would like to forfeit my position at S.T.A.R. labs for the time being." Pam clarified.

"I don't understand…" Bruce sat forward. "I gave you everything you could have wanted."

"OK, first of all," Pam crossed her arms again. "You didn't give me anything. The PhD I earned qualified me for this position."

"Well, fine," Bruce conceded that point. "But this is maybe the premier position in your chosen field. How could you possibly be unhappy?"

"I'm not. I'm very happy." Pam told him. "But…I'm confident I can continue to make contributions to science without spending my days in a lab. I'd rather—I'd rather be at home for now."

"Pamela," Bruce sighed. "You know I can't allow that. In your release paperwork it explicitly states that—"

She cut him off: "My psychiatrist signed off on it."

Bruce stopped, looking at her with something approaching pity. "Pamela…"

"My psychiatrist, Dr. Harleen Quinzel, has given my proposal her blessing." Pam said, slower this time. "I hear she's married with two kids now, which is just…fantastic, don't you think? So glad she could move in a healthy direction after the tragedy that befell her in her early adulthood."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, but Ivy didn't squirm or waver under his judgement. Just sat there, one leg crossed over the other, her hands folded neatly in her lap, with the ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. "Dr. Quinzel is no longer employed by Arkham Asylum." Bruce reminded her.

"True," Ivy granted. "But she is still involved with their outpatient program, assigned to special cases of patients she, herself, helped to treat. The mentally ill aren't known for taking kindly to change, you see. Arkham didn't want to interrupt my healing, and Dr. Quinzel was more than happy to stay on as my doctor." She absently traced her finger over her thigh. "Some say she took a liking to me."

"Can't imagine why." Bruce gritted.

Ivy smiled. "Five years ago you offered me a deal. You said my family would be taken care of. That's not what I want. I don't need your money—although I have signed a few of my patents over to you, and those, in time, will repay the funds you donated to my…genetics project."

"That wasn't intended as a loan," Bruce told her. "We agreed it was a gift."

"Yes, well…that was then." Ivy stood up. "But now I'm beginning to resent the leverage you have over me."

"Is this even what you want?" Bruce asked. "Truly?"

Ivy smoothed down her skirt. "It took me two years to come to this decision, and it's not without some trepidation. But yes, it is what I want." She started for the door, leaving her ID card on his desk. "Oh!" Pam spun around. "I almost forgot—Harl wanted me to remind you that Jo's game is at 2 today, in case you wanted to come."

"Is that today?" Bruce sounded a bit regretful.

"Yeah, it's the last game of the season so we were planning to go out to dinner afterwards." Pam informed him. "Barbara is supposed to accompany us for that portion of the afternoon…and…Well, Selina didn't seem all that interested, but you've been invited anyway."

"I'll see if I can push something back."

/

The day was a bit overcast and windy, certainly. Gotham City wasn't exactly known for its pristine weather conditions, after all, and although spring was usually the exception, this day was not. Jo had refused to wear pants…or a sweatshirt…not that Harleen was modeling the best behavior, either, with her jean shorts and ¾ sleeve t-shirt ensemble. For some reason, even without the sun, she'd elected to wear a baseball cap over her ponytail.

"Are we going to watch Jo or your office softball game?" Pam asked as they approached the field, Jo skipping ahead of them and Anthony following just behind.

Harleen looked down at her clothing, at first not totally understanding Pam's joke. "Oh," She chuckled. "No, I just left my 'I'M A LESBIAN!' sign at home. Needed some other way to communicate that."

Pam laughed. "I think your shorts would have to be a bit longer to make that explicit."

"Damn it, you're right." Harley set her lawn chair down by the edge of the field and quickly pulled Pam into a kiss that may have lasted just a bit too long. "In the spirit of explicitness…" Now Harley was looking over Pam's shoulder and animatedly greeting a couple that was starring. "Hi! I'm Harleen."

"Y—yes, we know," the woman stammered as Jolene pranced back over to Pam for a final hair adjustment.

"Oh, of course!" Harley acted like she was embarrassed. "You're Simon's parents."

"And you're Jolene's Mom," the woman acknowledged, eyeing the girl in question where Pam was tightening her ponytail.

Jolene herself caught the woman's wandering eyes and smiled, "And this is my other mom." She patted Pam on the shoulder. "I have two moms…which is sorta like having a Mom and a Dad, except for better because boys are terrible."

Pam smiled slyly.

"But not Anthony," Jo amended. "Brothers are the best."

Anthony was sitting down in his own lawn chair at this point, initially watching the exchange with some indifference, but now charmed by his sister despite himself.

Pam leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek once she'd finished. "Have a good game," she told her.

"Oh, don't worry, Mom. I will." Jo winked, before turning and sprinting across the field towards her team's bench.

And Pam rose to her feet, brushing off her skirt and smiling as pleasantly as she could muster. "I'm Lillian, it's a pleasure." The man was grinning stupidly, so Pam elected to shake the woman's hand.

"I've never seen you before…" The man said, dreamily.

So maybe Pamela could have reduced her pheromone output just slightly…but she'd always found this effect enjoyable. The woman was starring questioningly at her husband, who was basically drooling at this point. Pam ran a hand through her hair for good measure, and bit her lip just because she could.

Harley's attention had already moved to something else. "No way," she said under her breath.

Pam looked as well, to see Selina making her way over from the parking lot, her heels getting stuck in the mud every few feet.

"Hey!" Harley waved her over.

Pam could see her eye roll from here, but decided to sit down since Harley and Selina could handle themselves now. She was grateful every day that she no longer had to play the role of the kindly intermediary.

When Selina arrived, the first thing Pam noticed was the shiny diamond necklace she was displaying over her coat. At least she'd been productive. Pam had to grant her that. It became clear as the first half began that Bruce couldn't make it, so he'd tagged Selina in, which was just as well, being that she and Pamela's discussions of civilian life had always flowed more easily than with Bruce. Harleen spent most the game on her feet, cheering obnoxiously as Jo barreled down defenders. It seemed that Jo had missed the boat on this being flag football rather than tackle. But regardless of the ethics of Jo's playing style—she was successful with it, accounting for all of her team's touchdowns and most of their defensive stops.

Anthony sat and watched like Jolene's behavior was normal. Like it happened every week…which it probably did, Pam realized. In all honestly, it had been some time since Pam had taken a Saturday off to actually come and watch the game. Previously, she'd only seen Jo play through videos recorded on Harley's phone. But Jo clearly wasn't trying to be a bully…she wasn't overly aggressive, really. More just…physically dominant. Her movements were fluid, she was quicker on her feet and more coordinated than the other children—all boys, by the way. Harleen was extremely athletic, and by all accounts had been that way from a young age, but Jo seemed…enhanced, somehow.

Pamela looked down at her toned legs showing beneath her skirt, and then over at Anthony who, although only twelve, had visible separations in his arm muscles. Oh…Pamela hadn't really considered those implications before. Jolene was enhanced. They all were. Harleen didn't look out of place in their family, but that was because she spent hours in the gym every day and her nights running around the city. Jo had an unfair advantage here. Maybe that didn't matter today, but someday it might.

Pam filed a mental note to run further tests in order to determine the extent to which her DNA was affecting her children. She probably should have done that earlier, but most of her focus had been on how they would mature mentally and if they would appear human. She hadn't factored in Harley's athletic influence and their likely need to assimilate into that culture. But…she couldn't perform the tests at the lab because she wasn't employed there anymore…something she had yet to make Harley aware of.

Now she was staring at her wife uneasily from across the table at the pizza parlor Jolene had chosen. Pam's stomach clenched as she remembered the last big decision she'd made on her own…but Harley had asked for this one. True it had been two years since that late-night conversation, but there were things to put in place. Pros and cons to weigh. And…no, they hadn't spoken about it since, but Harley hadn't retracted her request…so…there was no reason for Pamela to think her honoring that would be met with any resistance.

"Mom…" Anthony nudged her gently, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Jolene wants to know if you saw her knock Simon over."

Pam blinked, shifting her gaze from Harleen to Jo, who was wearing an expectant smile on her face, her medal still draped proudly around her neck.

"Yes…Yes, Darling." Pam assured her. "Yes, I saw it."

"Whadd'ja think?" Jo asked with a toothy grin.

"Well, he was on your team, no?" Pam inquired. "Isn't the goal of the sport to knock the opposition over?"

"Yeah," Jo giggled. "But I didn't really like the way his Mom and Dad were lookin' at'cha. Because I don't think people should be surprised if someone has two moms…and I was just really happy you came to watch me. Did you…" she absently fingered her medal. "Did you think I did a good job?"

Pam smiled warmly. "So good, Jolene."

The girl's cheeks flushed and she had to turn her smile away from Pam, now starring down at the medal around her neck. "Thank you."

Tonight. Pamela would tell Harley tonight.