Author's note: You'll find this chapter to be a bit more upbeat than usual...I promise I'll get back to thoughtful content in the next one.

"Isn't that a little cliché?" Bart asked. "And like…incestuous, maybe?"

Jo rolled her eyes. "We're not actually related, Dumbass. And what's it to ya, anyway?"

Bart shrugged. "Well…Nightwing married Batgirl, right? Now Batman's marrying Batgirl too?"

"Hellbat," Jo corrected. "And my parents already make enough ' ' jokes, alright? When I told you guys I was getting married, it was intended as a 'hey, you're my friends. Come to my wedding' rather than a 'I wonder what Bart Allen thinks about my relationship'. But thanks anyway."

"Well I'm happy for you," Suzanne assured her, patting her hand where it lay on the table. "And if Bart wants to be my date he's gonna knock it off and be happy for you too."

"I just think he's a little overrated, OK?" Bart responded like they were persecuting him. "It's always Batman this and Batman that—the dude doesn't even have any superpowers!"

"What does that matter?" Jo crossed her arms. "He'd still kick your ass."

"Pfft," Bart scoffed. "I'm the fastest man alive."

"Mmm…" Zachary narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure about that."

"I'd put my money on Wally or Iris, no offense," Jo said. "Or, actually—offense."

Bart looked disgruntled for a moment before coming back with: "Yeah, so what?"

"So…I'd beat you in a fight, Bro," Jo laughed. "Never mind Batman."

"Wh—what?" Bart was so offended he stood up from the couch he and Jo had been sharing. "There's no way!"

Jo grinned, sitting up. "How about we make a bet?"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Suzanne chanted.

Bart narrowed his eyes. "What are your terms?"

"If I win, you have to go up to Damian and ask him to autograph your suit in permanent marker," Jo proposed. "Right on the ass."

Zachary laughed. "I like this already."

"Fine," Bart agreed, after a moment's contemplation. "But if I win, you've gotta whisper in his ear that Batman is overrated while he's…uh…you know…"

"Inside of me?" Jo laughed. "First off: you're a pervert. But secondly: that's hilarious and yes, absolutely. Let's do it. Suit on or off?"

Bart raised an eyebrow. "You seriously think you can beat me without your suit?"

Jo smiled, already beginning the process of removing her suit. "I'm pretty confident, yeah." While pulling the arm off, though, her hand slipped and she pressed a button that sent a clear mist into the air. "Oh, shit, sorry! It's not poisonous, it's just my sweat, I promise."

"Gross," Bart complained. "Your suit collects your sweat?"

"Does it look terribly breathable to you?" Jo wondered, chuckling as she finished the removal process, leaving her in a pair of spandex and a tank top. "You ready?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm—umm…ha," he said, bashfully, his cheeks flushing as she crooked a finger at him, beckoning him forward. "I'm not—uh—," he attempted to clear his throat. "I'm not gonna take it easy on you."

"OK," Jo fluttered her eyelashes. "Show me what'cha got, Speedy."

"I'm…I'm pretty fast," he assured her as she circled him, a dopey grin growing on his face. "Better watch out."

"Well that's all well and good," Jo chuckled, trailing her finger languidly down his arm as she saddled up behind him, wrapping her arm around his waist. She felt his breath hitch when she trailed her hand down lower…

…until she wrapped that arm around his leg and upended him, spinning him head-over-heels and slamming him to the ground. She climbed quickly over him then, pinning his arms over his head. "Would you like to kiss me or kill me right now?"

"Kisses, please," he said, giggling.

"Mhm," Jo grinned. "Those are called pheromones, Bart. Little trick I picked up from my Mom. Unfortunately, the ones that I excrete are far less potent then hers, but my brother designed a system within my suit that collects my sweat and concentrates it."

"That's cool," he said, before leaning up and attempting to kiss her.

Jo stopped him with a hand on his forehead, pushing it back to the ground. "That signature's gonna look so sexy," she chuckled before getting up. "Sorry, Suzanne, didn't mean to encroach on your, uh…turf."

Suzanne and Zachary were both laughing. "You can have him."

"I think I'm good," Jo winked.

"Wait, hey!" Bart sat up, his head having cleared slightly now that Jo was giving him space. "You cheated!"

Jo put her hands on her hips. "Were you not just about to use your speed to beat me? Or was this supposed to be hand-to-hand? Because that would have ended even worse for you than this did."

Bart pulled himself up to his feet. "But Damian doesn't have any superpowers! That's the point we were trying to make."

"You're right," Jo admitted. "But he does have about 14 other gadgets that would leave you in a very similar state. You're sword, he's pen, and I'm boob. And everyone knows boob beats pen beats sword. Right, Suzanne?"

"Right," the archer agreed.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," Jo began, packing up her costume. "I'm in a fantastic mood, and have been for far too long, so I'm going to go see my Mother now to remedy that perversion of my nature."

/

"Mmm…I don't know," Harley said, narrowing her eyes. "I just don't know. Might it be too…let me see…" she dug her fork in for another bite of cake, chewing thoughtfully. "I just don't know—,"

Selina snatched the fork away as the blonde started her journey towards another bite. "You know what it tastes like! Save some for Jo!"

"No, see…this is white cake. Jo hates white cake," Harley informed her, snatching the fork back. "She likes chocolate, that's why I can eat this slice."

Now it was Selina whose eyes were narrowed. "I don't think you're old enough to make that cute yet."

"Bullshit," Harley slammed her fist at the table. "I've been adorable at every age. Just ask Pam."

Selina rapped her knuckles on the table, nonchalantly taking a bite of her own from the half-eaten slice of cake. "Do you and Pam still…are you guys still—uh—making an effort?" she tried to pose the question casually. "

"I mean…" Harley squinted with one eye. "Yeah…I guess. She definitely does, which is cute, but uh…I don't know. Sometimes it doesn't feel worth it. She's gotta work her ass off, I've gotta be totally focused and 100% into it…we're done with casual sex, that's for sure."

Selina sighed. "It's so fucking weird getting old."

"Mm," Harley set her fork down. "I take it things are cooling down?"

Selina snorted. "I'm 70 years old, Harley. Can you fucking believe that? Seriously. And Bruce is 75, so…it just is what it is. And the idea of becoming those horny geezers in a nursing home orgy someday is absolutely terrifying, so…yes, we're cooling down. We've cooled down."

Harley laughed. "A what?! That can't be a real thing."

"It's totally a real thing," Selina affirmed. "Eddie told me about it yesterday and I didn't sleep a wink last night."

Harley laughed again. "Why were you talking to Riddler?"

"He's got something I want to take off his hands after he croaks," Selina informed, sitting back in her chair. "And Bruce is paying the rent at his retirement community, so we catch up on occasion."

"That's…oddly endearing," Harley decided. "Well, anyway, you're hands down the hottest 70-year-old I've ever seen."

"Isn't Pam like 106?" Selina asked. "You've seen her, haven't you?"

"Yes, but she's cheating."

"So am I," Selina pointed out.

"Yes, but she's cheating more than you."

Selina nodded. "Alright, I'll accept that. So Jo's picky as fuck, so no white cake. But Damian's not a huge chocolate fan, so obviously, we've hit a snag."

"Ooh, me! Me!" Harley excitedly raised her hand.

Selina rolled her eyes. "Yeah?"

"What if they just didn't get married?"

"Will you knock that shit off?" Selina not-so-kindly requested. "Your kid likes a boy who likes her back. We should all be encouraging them—seriously. They make each other bearable. I caught Damian humming the other day! Humming 'Jolene' by Dolly-friggin-Parton, you monster! Support that, goddam it! You have no idea what a nightmare he was growing up."

"Christ, calm down!" Harley demanded. "Holy crap…" she allowed Selina to take a deep breath before continuing. "Obviously they're going through with it. We figured out a while ago that when Jo decides something we can't exactly reason with her. Damian seems like the only person she listens to, for some reason, so more power to em. But he's Talia's son, so I'm gonna keep making jokes."

"He's not Talia's son," Selina mumbled as a car pulled into the driveway.

/

"Pamela," Damian greeted cordially. "You don't drink coffee."

"Yes," Ivy acknowledged. "Which is why this is tea."

"Mm," Damian grunted, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Ivy stared at him a second before she couldn't take it anymore. "Why are you still wearing that fucking cowl? We're inside!"

"I…like it," he quietly took a sip.

"Do you ever take it off?" Ivy gritted, not totally sure why this particular issue annoyed her so severely.

"Only when I shower," he told her.

"Please don't tell me you make my daughter call you 'Batman' in the fucking bedroom."

Damian swallowed back a mouthful of coffee. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

Ivy lowered her voice slightly for their next exchange, as Donna Troy had wandered within earshot and she had zero interest in involving an Amazonian in their conversation (as it would likely get back to Diana and Ivy couldn't stomach the thought of Wonder Woman being involved in her family drama). "When you allow her to answer the phone while you two are engaging in—whatever you two engage in, it becomes my business."

"That was four-fucking-years ago," Damian hissed back. "Get over it, Pamela."

"Stop referring to me as if I'm your peer," Ivy snapped, less careful with her volume this time. "And only when you have a child will you understand the trauma of…oh God," she nearly gagged. "What a horrifying thought."

"Yeah, no, continue to think about that," Damian told her. "Think about it all night long. And remind me why you hate me, again? Because still being pissed I pushed Anthony off the slide that one time seems a little insane seeing as we're all adults now."

"Well conversations like this certainly aren't helping your cause," she assured him.

"You're the one that made this weird!" he slipped back into a volume that Donna definitely took notice of. "I just pointed out it was weird you were drinking coffee! That's it! You're the one that brought up me and your daughter's bedroom habits."

Donna was giving them a strange look from where she was placing an entire rotisserie chicken on a plate.

"Hi there," Ivy smiled to placate her. "You must be hungry."

"…I am," Donna said like it was the dumbest observation she'd ever heard. "I'm eating this chicken."

"No, I know, I was just…" Ivy started to explain herself before she decided it wasn't worth it. "Sorry—enjoy."

"I will," Donna said, still looking at Ivy like she had three eyes as she exited the kitchen, chicken in hand.

Ivy and Damian waited in silence for a moment as Donna left before Damian said: "Honestly, Pamela, what's the matter with you? Leave the woman to devour that entire chicken in peace."

Pam had to cover her mouth to starve off a laugh, but her eyes had obviously betrayed her amusement because Damian smirked into his coffee mug.

"Anyway," Ivy attempted to pull them back on track. "I have zero recollection of what our argument was about. But you know what you did, I'm sure."

"Something having to do with Jo."

"That's right!" she pointed an accusatory finger at him as she simultaneously dumped her tea into the sink with her other hand. "Now I have to go. Goodbye, you emotionally repressed nightmare of a human male."

"Well, takes one to know one," Damian sneered. "Except for the male part…and the human…just—nevermind. Goodbye."

/

"Hey," Jo greeted, smiling and leaning against her car as Damian climbed out of his. "You're cute. What's your deal?"

"I'm engaged," he said plainly, shutting his door.

"Well I'll make you forget all about him," she guaranteed him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him toward her.

He only let the kiss go on for a moment before he separated to ask: "he?"

"You're almost too pretty to be straight, Babe," she ran a hand through his hair affectionately. "I'm just playing the odds here."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just ask my brother," Jo told him. "He knows the struggle." Then she shrugged as he dropped his hands from where they were pinning her hips against the car. "I'm just sayin'—if we ever need to supplement our income, you could make a killing."

"9.2 billion dollars," Damian reminded her. "That's how much my Father's worth. And that's not even counting Selina or your parents."

Jo shrugged again. "Better you than me."

"You're such a fucking idiot," he grumbled before leaning down to kiss her again.

"Oh, hey!" Jo was the one to interrupt them this time. "You'll be happy to know I defended your honor today."

"If it was to a casting director I sincerely hope you told them I was a top," Damian warned.

Jo snorted. "Well look who's coming around to that joke…"

"Hey!" Pam slammed her car door as she'd just pulled up behind them. "You're going to scare the neighbors," she scolded. "Get inside or I'm getting the hose."

/

Harley sighed as she watched Jo and Damian through the blinds. "Remember when we were young and used to make out with people up against our cars?"

"Bruce and I used to fuck on rooftops," Selina mourned. "Now we just look at each other and go 'so, are you tired?' 'I don't know, are you tired?' until one of us falls asleep."

Pam had pulled into the driveway now as well. "At least you can walk," Harley pointed out. "And at least Bruce is getting old too. Do you have any idea how inadequate I fucking feel? Look at her, Cat! Seriously look at her."

Selina did, watching Pam follow Jo and Damian up the driveway, and…yeah. "Well maybe if she dressed less…unrealistically-sexy political campaign manager in an HBO miniseries all the time, that might let you off the hook a little."

"That wouldn't help," Harley grumbled, getting out her phone and scrolling through her camera roll until she found a picture of Pam from the back wearing a pair of Harley's old sweatpants and a plain grey tank top while she did the dishes, her hair up in a loose ponytail.

"Mm," Selina nodded gravely. "Yeah, I'd hire her to paint my house."

Harley was still starring at the picture. "Is that a euphemism?"

"A gay one, right?" Selina sounded unsure.

Harley frowned. "I mean…it sounds pretty gay…"

The front door opened then, and Jo burst through first. "Hi! What are you looking at?" she asked as Harley scrambled to lock her phone.

"Nothing," Harley assured her…at the same time as Selina was saying: "Your Mother's ass."

"Ah," Jo nodded like that was totally normal. "It's a good one."

Pam came in behind her. "If you wanted a closer look, Selina, you should have taken what I offered in 1995."

"Well isn't that some fun family history," Damian intoned, closing the door behind him as he was the last one.

"Hush," Selina scolded, although it wasn't clear if she was talking to Damian or Pam. "There are cake samples in the kitchen, Harley informed me—,"

"—I want chocolate," Jo cut her off.

"And I want red velvet," Damian dissented.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Red velvet is just chocolate with food coloring, Dunce Cap."

"Then that's what I want," Damian decided.

"Cool," Jo agreed. "Red velvet it is."

"That's…that's it?" Selina asked after a moment of silence. "Guys, Harley and I went to four different bakeries today."

"Cool," Jo repeated. "Did you get any red velvet?"

"Well…I mean, yeah," Harley said.

"Perfect," Jo smiled happily. "We'll have that. As far as music goes, if Anthony's up for it I'd love him to be there playing the piano—he can choose the first dance song himself, we don't really care as long as it's not Jason Mraz cuz, frankly, that guy can shove his fedora up his Jason Mrass—otherwise the wedding is mostly for the public anyway, right? So we trust your judgment completely. Go crazy, do whatever you want. Carrie will be my maid of honor and Dick will be Damian's best man. Ma, you've gotta find a way to walk me down the aisle because Mom is technically dead, and…oh! We're still on for dress shopping on Thursday, right?"

"Uh—yeah," Selina was at a loss for words other than that.

"Fantastic!" Jo's grin broadened. "Thank you guys so much, really. We're excited," she took Damian's hand. "Anything you wanted to add?"

Damian thought for a moment before saying: "I think you covered it."

"Well, we'd love to stay longer, as we love all of you," Jo told them, backing up towards the front door. "But because we both have two superhero jobs on top of a civilian job each, we have about four hours during the day where we get to decide whether to sleep or have sex. Of course, we should choose to sleep, but the other option is just more fun, so we're gonna go do that now."

"Have a good evening," Damian nodded before Jo yanked him out the door.

The three women in the foyer flinched when she door slammed shut, leaving them alone and in silence.

"Hm," Pam said aloud.

"Hm," Selina agreed.

"I…think our children might be adults," Harley realized.

Author's note: Suzanne is Suzanne King-Jones, aka Arowette, and Zachary is Zachary Zatara aka Zatara.

Realized they might be a bit obscure, so there ya go :)