"Alright, you got all your stuff?" Karen prompted.

"Uh huh," Duke said from the back seat, looking apprehensively out the window.

Narrowing her eyes at him in the rearview mirror, Karen asked: "What's the matter?

"Maybe my flowers aren't good," he said, starring down at the yellow marigolds in his lap. "Maybe she will not like them."

"Baby, Grandma's never met a flower she didn't like," Karen assured him, pulling into the driveway. "Daddy and I will come back after work and we'll all have dinner here, OK? I'll be back before you know it."

"Yeah, OK," Duke mumbled, unbuckling his seat belt and waiting for Karen to come around and let him out (Anthony had enabled the child lock some time ago and now they couldn't figure out how to take it off).

His feet landed on the ground with a stomp to enable his light up shoes, and for a moment, he didn't seem so nervous. Then he reached behind him and grabbed the flowers from the seat, holding them close to his chest, careful not to spill even a speck of soil from the plastic container.

"You ready?" Karen asked.

Duke nodded silently, allowing her to lead the way, but keeping close to her side, turning down her outstretched hand and electing to dedicate all his attention to the delicate flowers in his hand.

Karen headed towards the side gate, the one that led to the backyard, using the key she'd been given to unlock it before ushering Duke inside. "Hey," she called out, shutting it behind her. "We're here."

Pam looked up from where she was kneeling in the garden—weeding, by the looks of it. She offered a warm smile, but didn't get up. And it was Harley whose voice they heard first.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed from her chair on the back porch. "Duke, where did you get those shoes?!"

"Daddy got them at the store," he told her as she rolled down the ramp towards him.

"Do you think they'd fit me?" she asked, stopping just in front of them.

"No," Duke shook his head.

"Oh," Harley feigned disappointment. "Is it cuz my feet are too small?"

"No, they're too big, Nana. Stop being silly," he giggled.

"Me? Silly?" Harley grinned. "Nuh uh, no way, no how, never."

"No, always!" Duke disagreed.

Harley crinkled her nose teasingly at him as Karen cleared her throat. "I should be back by like 7:00, if that's alright."

"You mean I get to hang out all day with this munchkin?" Harley asked, obviously more for Duke than Karen.

"I'm not a munchkin." He told her, frowning. "They scare me."

Harley bit her lip to keep another grin at bay. "The Munchkins scare you?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "And the lion. And the tin guy. And the scarecrow."

Karen sighed, she'd been through this more than a few times already, but Harley seemed to be having fun.

"Well what about the witch?" she asked. "Does she scare you?"

"No," he giggled like that was a silly question. "She's just an ugly Grandma."

"Yes, well, when you ostracize and misunderstand brilliant, green skinned lesbians, they tend to turn bitter." Pam offered from the garden.

Harley furrowed her brow, looking at Pam over her shoulder. "Elphaba was a lesbian? With who?"

"Glinda," Pam told her. "The blonde. But you don't need to have a female love interest to be a lesbian."

"The good witch," Duke corrected.

It appeared that Harley's mind had been sufficiently blown, so Karen nodded, taking a deep breath. "Sweet. I'll see you guys later." She leaned down to kiss her son on the top of the head. "Be good, Baby."

"Wait!" he grabbed onto her shirt, keeping her in place and lifting up onto his tip toes, Karen leaning down so that he could whisper in her ear. "Help me."

"With what?" Karen whispered back.

"Give Grandma her flowers," he said.

"Oh, OK," Karen kissed him on the cheek, putting her hand on his back and guiding him across the lawn to where Pam was kneeling, focused on her work.

"Grandma?" he said, his voice quiet, his eyes trained on her white sunhat.

She pushed the brim of her hat up on her forehead, squinting to look at him through the pleasant, 11am sunlight. "Yes?"

Slowly, he held the flowers out to her, watching her cautiously as he did. "I brought flowers for your garden."

Pam looked at the flowers, and then up at Duke, a smile growing on her face as she did. "For me?"

"Mhm," he nodded.

She sat forward on her knees to examine them closer. "Did you pick these out yourself?"

"Yes," he said, seeming to hold his breath.

"Marigolds," Pam reached out a hand and gently stroked the dainty petals. "Let's see…how old are you?"

Duke gingerly let go of the container with one hand to raise four fingers.

"Four," she smiled. "Well, when your Daddy was your age, I used to let him help me in the garden."

Duke nodded in acknowledgment. "Daddy's good at flowers."

Pam chuckled, stripping off her gloves. "What about you? Would you like to give it a try?"

Duke's eyes grew wide at the thought. "Plant my flowers?"

"Mhm," Pam confirmed. "If you brought your best listening ears and your gentlest hands."

"I did!"

"Wonderful," Pam smiled. "How about you say goodbye to your Mom and we get started."

/

Jo sighed. "What's this one for, again?"

"Orphans," Damian answered as the tailor went to retrieve the jacket he'd fitted. "And it's important to both our brand and my father, so wear the green, not the red."

"Not the—," Jo was offended. "OK, first off—it's salmon. But what's the matter with it? You bought it for me!"

"Besides the fact that you always get cold and we have yet to find a jacket that works with it?" Damian raised an eyebrow in the mirror as he began the practiced process of tying his bow tie. "If the gala was being held indoors it wouldn't be a problem."

Jo narrowed her gaze. "You just don't like having to give me your jackets."

"Not particularly, no." He admitted, frowning at the bow. "Does this look straight to you?" he asked, turning to give her a better view.

"Yeah, it's fine. Why are you being so weird?" Jo asked, more annoyed than suspicious. "Since when do you care what I wear? My job is to look hot and sophisticated, and that's what I do. Consistently. And I don't even buy my own shit, really. That shopper you hired does. So…"

"I just want you to be in a dress that you're happy with," he said quickly, clearly wanting to be done with the conversation.

"Well I'm happy with the salmon."

"Fine! Wear the salmon." He angrily threaded his cuff-links. "I just don't want you to regret it."

"Reg—OK, American Psycho. You need to take a chill pill," Jo glared, crossing her arms. "Thanks for your concern, anyway."

"Whatever," he mumbled, taking his jacket from the tailor when he returned and sliding it on. After studying himself in the mirror a moment he asked: "What do you think?"

"Of the tux?" Jo wondered. "It's nice. You did a good job," she smiled at the tailor.

"Good," Damian nodded…maybe a few too many times. "I'm glad you like it, as it's what I'll be wearing when I propose to you tonight."

"Oh, got'cha. Cool, cool, cool." Jo pointed two finger guns at him and casually got up, heading for the shelf of bottled water. "Excuse me," she got the tailor's attention, grabbing one of the bottles. "Are these free?"

"$5.00," he informed her.

"5? This better taste like Zeus' hand-milked tears." She unscrewed the cap, taking a drink…and then immediately sprayed out her entire mouthful. "WHEN YOU WHAT?!"

"Propose to you," Damian casually repeated, stepping down off the platform. "I'll pay for the carpet if you notice any water damage," he told the tailor.

"Wait, Damian—wait," Jo felt more confused than anything. "You…want to marry me?"

"Well…yes," Damian answered like he wasn't sure why it was a question. "It's been almost 5 years now, Jo. You weren't—I'm sorry, I thought you were expecting this."

"Uh—no, I—no," Jo shook her head. "Do—do 23-year-olds even get married?"

Damian shrugged. "Anthony was 24 when he had Duke, right? I'm not asking for that, I'm just…umm…will you marry me?"

"I mean…yes, sure." Jo told him, still attempting to process what was happening. "But why?"

"Well, I have a speech for tonight—and a ring," he informed her. "But cliffnotes: you're my best friend, you're the only person on the planet that I actually, truly care about, you make me feel like I'm not alone, my Father and Selina spent too long running in circles around each other, and I think we do enough of that already without actually drifting in and out of each other's lives. Also, I love you, and when I think about the future, in my head you're always there with me."

"Those are…all good reasons," Jo said, clearing her throat in hopes of warding off the tears she felt building behind her eyes. "OK. Yes, I'll marry you."

Damian grinned, and it was real and genuine. It was maybe the first time she'd actually seen him express true happiness in the 23 years she'd known him, and it was in reaction to him learning she would be his wife. And that…made Jo happier than she could express with words.

"Yes," she said again, quickly closing the space between them and throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him into an overzealous kiss. "Fuck yes," she whispered.

She felt him smile against her lips. "That's the answer I was looking for."

/

"We don't have to have spaghetti if you don't have pasta," Karen assured them. "Really, we can troubleshoot."

"But…but I like spaghetti," Duke quietly protested from where he was already sitting at the table, seemingly ready to be fed. "I want to eat some right now."

"You heard the man," Harley nodded towards him. "Pam can go to the store, it's not a problem. We need a new skillet anyway."

Confused, Pam said: "they sell skillets at the grocery store?"

"They do at Target," Harley reasoned.

"Well…OK, fine, but Jo took my car today," Pam reminded her, sounding like she was making an excuse.

"Where's hers?" Harley asked.

Pam got up, grabbing her purse, having apparently decided she wasn't getting out of this. "In the shop because she's a horrible driver. Do you want to go? We could take the van…"

"No," Harley said quickly. "No, it doesn't need to be a big to-do, just…how about you and Karen go? Take her car. I'll just wait for Anthony."

"Uh—yeah, sure," Karen agreed. "Duke? You wanna come with me or stay with Nana?"

Guiltily, the boy weighed his options, before ultimately turning to Harley and saying: "Nana, will it hurt your feelings if I go with Mommy?"

"Nope," Harley smiled kindly. "Moms are great, I get it. If you see anything cool at the store, tell Grandma she has to buy it on my orders."

Pam rolled her eyes, opening the door for them, Harley offering a double-thumbs up before she closed it behind them and headed for the car. "I suppose you should drive."

"I suppose," Karen agreed, buckling Duke into his booster seat and coming around the front to sit in the driver's.

Pam climbed gingerly into the passenger seat like it was some alien planet, going to adjust her hair immediately after buckling herself in, and only then letting herself relax.

"You good?" Karen prompted.

"You a good driver?"

"Mommy's the best driver," Duke assured her from the back seat, patting Pam on the shoulder. "You're safe. She's a superhero."

"Thanks, Baby," Karen chuckled, pulling away and starting on what she knew was a brief journey. "So…I take it you're usually the one behind the wheel." She said after a few blocks.

"Yes," Pam acknowledged, her gaze aimed straight ahead.

"Did you teach Anthony how to drive?" Karen wondered. While she was, at this point, more or less accustomed to having Pamela Isley as a mother-in-law, she was still curious about a lot of things. It was still bizarre to think that the permanently-disgruntled plant hybrid that roamed the halls of The Watchtower was the same woman who raised the impressively well-adjusted father of her child.

"No," Ivy was saying. "No, that was Dick Grayson. His Godfather. We saw it as an opportunity to promote some male bonding."

"Did he ever have a rebellious teenager phase?" Karen wanted to know.

"Anthony? Goodness, no," Pam laughed. "We hit a little bump when he was around 12, I think. That was when we finally explained to him what he was and what I was, and he was hurt for a moment. But then my mutation set in and things just…fell back into place. But even without that, I'm confident we would have been fine. Harley always knew how to talk to him. To both of them, really."

"He didn't talk to you?"

"Oh, no, he did, it's just…I'm an easy target for anger," Pam told her. "I think—for the most part—well-loved children don't truly want to hurt their parents, even when they're angry. But they want you to think that they do. To think that they're capable of that." Her gaze turned out the window. "But if you listen to them and try to understand their concerns as they see them, they pull their punches. And Anthony never had much fight in him to begin with, really, so the few times he did attempt to test out his anger, it was on me because…well because I'm Poison Ivy, frankly, and being an immortal meta-human meant they didn't have to pull their punches quite as quickly." She drummed her fingers on her thigh. "Does that answer your question?"

Karen nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah…" and for a moment there it was like she was just getting some parenting advice from her mother-in-law…not from Poison Ivy, which was…nice.

She pulled into a parking spot and Pam got out, slinging her purse over her shoulder and helping Duke out of the backseat.

Duke grabbed onto her hand, doing a big stomp to get his shoes going before he reached for Karen's hand as well. "For extra safety," he said.

Karen smiled, both at her son's thoughtfulness and at the fact that Poison Ivy seemed to have no objection to the request.

Together, they walked across the parking lot and into the store.

"OK," Karen glanced around. "So…I think the groceries and the kitchenware are in the same general area, right?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Pam admitted, looking a bit overwhelmed. "I don't—I don't frequent these sorts of establishments."

Oh, right. Industrialism bad. "We'll figure it out," Karen tried to sound as cheery as possible. "What do you say, Duke?" she asked. "You want to go on an adventure?"

"Yeah," he grinned, letting go of Karen's hand to pat Pam's. "It's OK, Grandma. I'm a good explorer."

"Well…lead the way, then." Pam forced a smile and they were off. Just…two superheroes and a four-year-old wandering around a Target at 8pm.

"So what are the two things we need?" Karen prompted.

"Pasta." Duke said matter-of-factly, stopping to try to see to the end of an aisle before determining they weren't buying what it was selling. "Pasta and pans. One more cuz we already got one," he smiled up at his Grandmother.

"No, Sweetheart, my name is 'Pam'. 'Pam', not 'pan'." She informed him.

"Oh," Duke looked disappointed (and maybe a little embarrassed) as Karen stopped them.

"Pasta." She dropped Duke's hand to grab a box of angel hair.

"And kitchenware," the redhead pointed in the opposite direction, and Karen turned to see there was, in fact, an aisle across from them filled with kitchenware.

Pam lifted Duke up onto her hip, as he was still wearing that downtrodden expression. While he was a pretty decent size for a four-year-old, he still wasn't too big to be carried, and Karen liked how he instantly rested his head against Pam's shoulder and wrapped his arms around her neck. He held onto Anthony the same way.

"We have to buy nonstick because Nana always forgets to add oil," Pam was saying. "Karen, would you…?" she nodded towards the wall of pans.

"Oh, yeah, sure." She stepped forward. "Which one?"

"The 10 inch is fine, thank you," Pam told her. "Now let's get out of here."

Superheroes, they're just like you! Karen chuckled to herself as they headed for the checkout. Luckily the store wasn't all that busy, so there was an open cashier waiting.

Pam set Duke down and Karen placed their two items on the belt, smiling politely back at the grinning cashier.

"What a handsome young man," the woman complimented as she rung up the items, looking at Pam as she was the one in front (and the one who'd been carrying him).

Pulling her debit card out of her wallet, Pam evidently noticed the woman's misplaced attention and corrected it with: "He's lucky to have such a beautiful Mother," she smiled quickly at Karen and swiped her card.

"That's so sweet," the cashier was still smiling broadly. "My partner and I are looking into adoption."

"How wonderful," Pam told her, sounding genuine, but also distracted as she keyed in her pin.

"Did you use a surrogate?"

Karen shook her head, although she found the question a little invasive. "No, I carried him myself."

"That's nice," the cashier processed the transaction. "We were looking into that but it's just all so expensive, you know?"

A puzzled expression creeped into Pam's features as she checked back into the conversation. "Yes…"

"How'd you decide who would be the—," the cashier changed her volume to a whisper and covered her mouth so Duke couldn't see when she said: "biological mother"."

Karen froze Oh, no. No no no. No no. No no. No, while Pam turned the color of the store's logo, and from her expression, Karen was pretty sure her internal monologue didn't sound much different.

"H—her womb, her baby. That was o—our decision," was Pam's forced response. "I need to take a shower now. I need to take many showers. Excuse me."

/

Harley and Anthony were in the kitchen when they heard the front door open.

"Took ya long enough!" Harley complained.

Duke ran through the door and into Anthony's arms and Pam and Karen stumbled numbly behind him, looking like they'd seen a ghost.

"How was your day in the garden?" Anthony asked his son. "I heard Grandma helped you plant some flowers."

"Yeah!" Duke began his account of the day, but Harley tuned him out, all of her attention focused on the two women standing an awkward 5 feet apart and starring down at their shoes.

"Mother-daughter bonding time went well?" Harley inquired. "Or…no?"

Both their faces contorted into something nearly surpassing disgust, and now Anthony had taken notice as well, pausing his conversation with Duke to ask: "Did you park in Ma's spot, Bee?"

"Please don't," Pam gritted.

"I totally would have let you borrow my pass for the night," Harley said. "Really it's all access. And all my gadgets are electric, so I really don't see the harm in—"

"Stop!" Pam suddenly shouted, startling Harley and Anthony. "Please, you have to—stop. I'm sure you mean did we park in a handicap spot, and that you would have let us borrow your sticker, and that your electric wheelchair makes it not too much of a bother to wheel across the parking lot—but we need some time and space to deal with our nausea, please."

"Uhh…OK…"

"The cashier thought your Mom and I were Duke's parents!" Karen blurted at the exact moment the door leading from the kitchen to the backyard slammed open and Jolene waltzed inside.

"I'm in love, I'm in love and I don't care who knows it," she whimsically spun around, ripping her beanie cap off of her head (the one that looked very out of place given the fact that she was wearing an evening gown) and tossing it at Harley, hitting her in the face with it.

The kitchen was silent then, aside from Jo's excited breathing and Harley spitting the hat's stray fibers out of her mouth.

…until Pam shook herself out of her stupor and asked, in a surprisingly casual tone: "With whom?"

"W—with Damian," Jo looked an odd mix of happy and confused now as she calmed down, although her wide smile remained prominent. "We're getting married!" she held out her left hand to show off the diamond ring on her finger.

"I think we should drink," Harley proposed.