Brown or blonde? Brown…or blonde…or black?
Pam stared at Selina's wig collection. Had been standing, staring, for a while now. She was aware of that. She was also aware they had to go, but she just…couldn't choose. Couldn't make up her mind. She liked her red hair. She didn't want to wear a wig. Not today, anyway.
"Pam?" Barbara called from the doorway. "We have to go."
"I know," she acknowledged, not removing her focus from the hair options in front of her.
Barbara cleared her throat, taking a step inside. "You look nice."
Pam glanced down at her suit. "I wanted to wear a dress," she mumbled.
"Why didn't you?" Barbara asked, now standing beside her, her arms crossed, examining the wigs as well.
"I don't know," Pam told her, reaching forward to pick up the blonde option. "Thought this would be a better disguise, I suppose. Harley does pants better."
Barbara cracked a smile. "I think you do everything pretty well."
"I know," Pam exhaled, setting the wig back down. "What do you think?"
"Mmm…" Barbara narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, looking at each wig and then glancing over at Pam. "Brown," she decided, finally. "The darker one. Blonde makes you look too much like Jo—you'll get 'how are you related?' questions, black just isn't your color, and the caramel is what you wore when you worked for Bruce, so obviously that's not going to work."
Pam nodded at Barbara's reasoning, but made no move to grab it from the shelf. "You're right."
The Commissioner nodded. "Can I help you put it on?"
"No."
"OK, well…Harl and Selina are already there, so…it's just you and me," Barbara patted her on the back. "I'll go start the car, alright?"
"Yes, fine," Pam agreed.
Barbara gave her one last smile—one that communicated a noticeable degree of pity—and headed for the doorway.
"I don't want her to get married," Pam stopped her.
"What?"
Pam turned to face her. "I don't—I don't want Jo to get married."
"Pamela," Barbara sighed, "Damian may be difficult, but—,"
"—no, it's not that," Pam cut her off. "It's just…it's all moving too fast. All speeding towards an inevitable conclusion that—I knew…I knew this would happen."
Barbara smiled once more, leaning against the doorframe. "You knew your kids would grow up to be with people they love? How wonderful."
"You wouldn't understand," Pam mumbled. "It feels like—like yesterday it was my wedding, and I was taking your cake away and telling you to wait until you were ready to be with Dick. Do you remember?"
"I do," Barbara chuckled. "And you're not alone, Pam. You're not the only one that feels like things are moving fast. You're just the only one that stands still to watch it all pass by."
"Then must you all continue to sprint?" Pam laughed—but it was sad, and she had to swallow back her emotions before continuing. "52…"
"Yeah, don't remind me," Barbara laughed in a very similar fashion. "I'm over the hill now."
Pam shook her head, "I'm not sure I'll ever be able to adequately thank you."
"For what?" Barbara smiled.
"For being the child I could never mess up, as you were never mine to begin with," Pam told her.
Barbara drummed her fingers on her thigh for a moment before making her decision and closing the space between them, pulling Pam into a tight hug. "It was easy. I didn't have you to live up to."
/
"When's this thing supposed to start, again?" Jo complained, spinning around in her chair.
Harley raised an eyebrow. "By 'this thing', do you mean your wedding?"
"Figured that was implied…"
Harley sighed, wishing that Jo was taking this more seriously. Marriage was…big. Marriage was marriage, and thinking of Jo married was just so…surreal. Or strange, maybe. Maybe just strange.
It had always been easier for her to imagine Anthony growing up, becoming a man, going to college, buying a house, even getting married and having children. In some ways, he'd always been a grownup, with his Windsor knots and logical reasoning.
But Jo was…Jo was different. Harley had been 42 when they had her, and yet, in comparison to where she was now, she felt like she'd been so young. And they'd done so much leaning on the job with her…see, she and Pam had sort of assumed that the experience they'd accumulated with Anthony would make raising their second kid easy, and the fact that she was a girl and they'd be able to relate to her better would do the rest.
Boy were they wrong.
Jolene was such a different kid. A challenging kid. Anthony was born with the weight of the world on his shoulders and Jo…well Jo accumulated it along the way. Stopping every few feet to pick up a new piece and place it on her back. And she hadn't even gone that far yet, really. 23 was…God, 23 was only two after Harley had won her National title, 23 was three years before she'd even meet Pam, and another two before she'd marry her. 23 was…something Jo was better at, maybe, as there's no way Harley would have been ready to start a life with someone back then. Those five years had been paramount to her development.
"What did it feel like?" Jo asked, pulling Harley from her thoughts. "When you were waiting before you married Mom. Was it, like, exciting? The idea of it?"
"Oh, geez, I was a mess," Harley laughed. "Selina had to go get Pam to convince me to put my dress on."
Jo smiled, sitting forward. "You know they're not supposed to see you in your dress beforehand, right?"
"Yeah, that's exactly what I told her. And do you know what she said?" Harley asked.
"What a ridiculous superstition," Jo guessed at the same time as Harley was giving her that exact answer.
"How'd you know?!" Harley laughed.
"I dreamed about it last night," Jo smiled. "You weren't kidding; you really were a mess."
Harley tried to hide her annoyance by glancing at her watch. 10 minutes. "Why'd you ask if you already knew the answer?"
Jo shrugged, popping a Jordan Almond into her mouth. "Wanted to see if you'd lie, I guess."
"Why would I do that?"
Jo sighed, spinning her chair to look at her reflection in the mirror again. "I find people tend to romanticize life's big moments. I was curious how you remembered it."
"Well…" Harley pursed her lips. "I remember feeling…scared. Scared and ugly and like—like the world was playing a trick on me. Like maybe Pam, Selina and Bruce were all in on this elaborate prank because…when I saw her in that dress it was just, 'in what world is she here to marry me?'."
"Hm," Jo said, taking in what Harley was saying with a thoughtful expression.
"And what about you?" Harley looked at her daughter's face in the mirror. "What are you feeling?"
Jo pushed a strand of stray hair back into place within her bun. "I'm not sure," she admitted, "maybe like…we deserve each other, but I don't deserve how happy he makes me."
Furrowing her brow, Harley asked: "why not?"
"Because sometimes I feel kinda stupid, caring about somebody like that," she confessed. "Especially that somebody. I mean…it's Damian, ya know?"
Harley couldn't help but smile. "Your person is your person, Jo. I definitely didn't expect mine to be my patient, nor did Selina expect hers to the guy messing with her jewel heists. Actually, out of all of us, your love story probably makes the most sense."
"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said about us," Jo murmured, keenly examining her nails.
Oh…
They both turned their attention to the door as it opened and Pam stepped inside, carrying a small box in her hands.
"Pam, we had a plan," Harley sighed. "You're not supposed to be back here."
"Yes, I know," she said, sounding regretful. "But I…" she opened the box and pulled out a white rose, "grew this, and I wasn't sure what you were doing with your hair, but I thought you might like to wear it."
Jo watched her silently for a moment, looking her up and down more than once. "You look like Talia."
"…what a terrible thing to say," Pam sounded demoralized.
Jo bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Did anyone see you come in?"
"No, I came in through the back," Pam told her. "Really, I just wanted to deliver this to you and…" she trailed off as Jo rose from her chair and crossed over to her.
Without saying a word, Jo took chestnut brown wig in her hand and pulled it off, followed by the wig cap, clearly being careful to avoid pulling Pam's actual hair which lay underneath. Once she could see red, she quickly ran a hand through it, mussing it to add volume where the tight wig cap had flattened it.
"That took me 20 minutes to put in place," Pam said quietly.
"After I say my vows and kiss my husband, I want to look out into the audience and see my Mom there," she tapped her index finger on Pam's chest above the neckline of her shirt. "And by my Mom…I mean Poison Ivy."
"Jo, Honey," Harley began to protest.
"Oh, come on, Ma. You two are such good friends, right? It's not weird Dr. Quinzel would invite Ivy to her daughter's wedding," Jo appealed before turning her attention back to Pam, looking at her with palpable sincerity. "I don't want you to have to hide."
/
We invited way too many fucking people, was all Damian could think as he waited for the ceremony to start.
Half these people he didn't even know personally. He recognized the mayor, though, who was likely only there because they'd donated heavily to her campaign in the last election. He spotted the Titans in the crowd as well, dressed in their civilian clothes, but not many of his colleagues from the Justice League, Jo was better at making friends…but Carrie and Cass and Tim and Dick were there, and he'd spotted Supergirl too, and Poison Ivy, of course…
Wait.
Poison Ivy?
She was wearing a well-tailored maroon pant suit over top a low cut black V-neck, which wasn't exactly a look he was accustomed to seeing her in, but his big problem was with her shamelessly green skin. Ivy sat four rows from the front on Damian's right, the people seated around her observing her with a mixture of fear and awe, by the looks of it. Ivy, herself, was staring straight ahead, though. Straight at Damian, so intently it was unnerving.
Lucky, he was saved when the music began up and Jo started down the aisle, biting her lip in hopes of containing her smile, which seemed to be a useless exercise as her happiness was blatantly obvious.
To his horror, Damian found he was smiling back at her and lifted his hand to obscure his mouth. But then he felt Dick's hand on his arm pulling it back down to his side.
"Let yourself be happy for a minute, Damian," Dick murmured behind him. "I promise it's not gonna kill ya."
So he forfeited for a moment, allowing an unimpeded smile—well, more of a smirk—as she finished her trip down the aisle.
"There are way too many people here," Jo whispered upon arrival.
"Yeah, no shit," Damian agreed at the same volume. "Speaking of which—Poison Ivy?"
"I wanted her to come, don't be a dick."
"We are gathered here today—,"
Damian bumped her lightly with his shoulder, and he just barely caught her smirk before turning his attention to the task at hand.
"—as long as you both shall live?"
"Definitely," Jo answered. "No! I mean—'I do', sorry," she laughed. "Gosh, I'm terrible at this. I should really only get married once."
An amused chuckle emanated from the audience and the Justice of the Peace smiled as he posed the same question to Damian, who answered with a much more straight forward "I do".
"Throughout this ceremony, Jolene and Damian have vowed, in our presence, to be loyal and loving towards each other…"
"Well, I don't know about that…" Jo mumbled.
"They have formalized the existence of the bond between them with words spoken and with the giving and receiving of rings…"
"Gross," Damian couldn't help himself.
"Therefore, it is my pleasure to pronounce them husband and wife. You may now—,"
Jo had already leapt into his arms at this point, kissing him fiercely.
"—kiss the groom, I suppose."
/
"Are you the real Poison Ivy?" the man sitting next to her finally got up the courage to ask.
"No, I just decided to cosplay for a wedding," Ivy mocked distractedly, watching Harley across the lawn, waiting for an opening that might never come as yet another person slid in beside her to start a likely meaningless conversation.
She knew whoever it was would leave in an instant if she approached, but drawing that much attention to their discourse just wasn't worth it. Besides that, what Pam really wanted was a hug or a kiss….and that obviously wasn't going to fly in these surroundings.
"Selina must have planned this," a female voice came behind her. "Only she could spend this much money in one place."
Ivy knew that voice, but she was still surprised when she turned around. "Leave," she told the man, who instantly sprung to his feet.
Talia al Ghul sat down in the seat he'd just evacuated, sizing Ivy up as she did and looking the same age as she had 40 years ago. "Pamela." She greeted coldly.
"Talia," she murmured with equal chill to her tone. "Funny, I didn't see you on the guest list."
Ignoring that, Talia nodded towards where Jo and Damian were talking to Anthony as he sat down at the piano. "She's very pretty." Ivy didn't say anything, just let her eyes wander to them as well, so Talia continued: "But I suppose that was expected. You always had a knack for growing pretty things. And perhaps I should be thankful Damian didn't inherit Bruce's disease."
"And what might that be?"
"Promiscuity," Talia answered, sitting back in her chair. "He only settled down with Selina because he ran out of steam, everyone knows that. Not like she had anything valuable to offer him."
"Well, she raised their son," Ivy pointed out as Damian and Jo stepped onto the dance floor. "Raised him to be a halfway decent human being. That's clearly something you couldn't offer him."
"Damian isn't their son, he's our son," Talia spat.
"Mmm…" Ivy smiled, "I'm not sure that's the way he sees it."
/
"In hindsight, maybe we should have chosen the song with him," Jo realized as Damian took her hand. "Aren't these things typically choreographed?"
"We've been to enough parties, Jolene, I think we can figure it out," Damian assured her.
And she smiled softly in response. "I like it when you call me that."
"Your name?" Damian raised an eyebrow.
"It reminds me of my parents," she told him as they waited for Anthony to begin playing. "They only use their full names when they're really trying to get the other one to listen and it's important that they hear. "I love you, Harleen," Jo did an earnest impression of Pam. "It's serious business."
"I see…" Damian smirked, putting his hand on her waist as Anthony leaned into the microphone.
"Good evening," he greeted the audience. "My name is Anthony Quinzel, I'm Jo's older brother, and…some of you may not know this, but growing up, Damian was my best friend…until I met Carrie, but close enough." Damian saluted him from the dance floor. "And I—I remember the first time I suspected Jo might maybe have a crush on Damian," Anthony laughed. "Which is just so cliché, the little sister crushing on her big brother's friend, but, uh—he was biking on the street outside our house and I was timing him to see how fast he could make the loop—he was always the better athlete—and he was coming in hot, on track to beat his personal record, when a squirrel ran out in front of his bike," Damian's face reddened slightly. "So he swerved, and ultimately crashed, and I'll never forget how Jo shot up from her seat—she was probably 6 at the time—and she runs over to him, and Damian's holding back tears because he's a man's man, and so Jo kneels down to examine his knee—which is scraped up pretty bad—and says: 'I would kiss it to make it better but it's super icky and my Mom says that doesn't work anyway'." The crowd laughed then and Anthony grinned, "Which, if you knew my Mother, is definitely something she'd say. Anyway, Damian didn't know what to do, I'm guessing, he was 12, I think, so it was sort of a strange situation—because then Jo leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek instead and said: 'big boys can cry too, if they're sad'." Another laugh, from Jo too this time.
"That's not how it happened," Damian grumbled.
Jo laughed, "that's totally how it happened."
"She'd been listening to a lot of Fergie," Anthony added as an aside, cracking his knuckles and spreading his fingers out on the keys of the piano. "Jo and Damian, I love you both—but Jo considerably more—and I'm happy for you—you deserve each other. And, remember, if you hate this song, maybe you should have chosen something yourself."
Jo chuckled, mumbling: "asshole" as she turned her attention back to Damian.
Anthony began with a few measures on the piano, and to both Jo and Damian's relief it wasn't terribly difficult to keep time to, nor was it Jason Mraz.
"I met you in the dark, you lit me up / You made me feel as though I was enough,"
Jo had to fight to urge to just rest her head against his chest like they were at a super well-funded prom.
"We danced the night away, we drank too much/ I held your hair back when / You were throwing up,"
"I have literally never thrown up in my life," Jo corrected as he spun her.
"Then you smiled over your shoulder / For a minute, I was stone-cold sober,"
Damian furrowed his brow. "That can't be true."
"I pulled you closer to my chest/ And you asked me to stay over,"
"No, really," Jo reaffirmed. "I have almost no gag reflex. But you already knew t—,"
"And you asked me to stay over/ I said, I already told ya / I think that you should get some rest,"
Damian sighed, shaking his head subtly as he spun her again, this time only half way, trapping her in his arms, her back to him.
"I knew I loved you then/ But you'd never know,"
He kissed her ear, careful to avoid the white rose in her hair before releasing her to face him once again.
"'Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go/ I know I needed you / But I never showed / But I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old,"
"Any regrets?" Damian asked.
"Mm…," Jo mulled that over.
"Just say you won't let go/ Just say you won't let go,"
"I didn't sleep with enough women," she decided.
"I'll wake you up with some breakfast in bed/ I'll bring you coffee with a kiss on your head,"
"How many did you sleep with?" he asked.
"And I'll take the kids to school/ Wave them goodbye,"
"None," Jo sighed. "It's shameful."
"And I'll thank my lucky stars for that night / When you looked over your shoulder / For a minute, I forget that I'm older / I wanna dance with you right now,"
"What about you?" Jo wondered, giggling as he lifted her, which got a cheer from the audience. "Any regrets?"
"Oh, and you look beautiful as ever / And I swear everyday you'll get better / You make me feel this way somehow,"
"Yeah," Damian admitted. "Right now I'm regretting not sleeping with your brother."
Jo threw her head back to laugh.
"I'm so in love with you / And I hope you know / Darling your love is more than worth its weight in gold,"
"I mean—I'm not one to give compliments—or to sleep with men…"
"We've come so far, my dear / Look how we've grown / And I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old,"
"But he's killin' it right now," Jo laughed. "It's alright, I get it. And you absolutely have my blessing."
"I appreciate that," Damian whispered, leaning down to kiss her.
/
Harley had been looking forward to sitting next to Pam all night. She'd seemed so lonely sitting by herself, most people too intimidated to approach her. And anyway, Harley knew the only person Pam wanted to talk to was likely her.
She'd had to wait through the ceremony, and the cocktail hour, the receiving line, the first dance, dinner, and even the cake.
Both Jo and Damian had been resistant to the 'shove cake in each other's face then kiss' tradition—and for good reason, it was pretty weird. Damian had assured those watching that he knew what Jo's mouth tasted like, and knew what cake tasted like, and that he really didn't understand why he had to have both at once. But then Carrie had called him a party pooper and smacked him on the back, so they'd caved and done it anyway.
But finally, as people finished their dessert and the dance floor opened up, Harley was left alone for a precious moment, and Pam—Ivy—immediately took notice, crossing the lawn with a relieved smile on her face.
"So glad you could make it, Pamela," Harley told her—aware of the two couples sitting within earshot. "Wasn't sure if you'd come."
Pam sat down beside her, obviously resisting the urge to do something more affectionate than just a cordial nod. "Beautiful ceremony," she said.
"Wasn't so bad, right?" Harley chuckled. "My friend Selina and I planned the whole thing."
"Well I'm impressed," Ivy granted. "And the bride seems happy. More so then I expected, I must admit."
"I was more surprised that the groom looked happy," Harley grinned. "That's actually pretty rare, if you can believe it."
"Bruce Wayne's son? Of course I can," Pam smiled back, although there was pain in her eyes. She wanted to be able to enjoy this like everyone else. Like a Mother watching her only daughter get married should be allowed to enjoy it. But the barriers were…insurmountable. They'd have a real conversation when they got home, but Harley still felt bad. Guilty, even if she had nothing to do with what was ailing her.
"Umm…excuse me," both women turned to find Supergirl standing above them. Yes, Supergirl. In full costume. Harley had invited Kara Danvers, and she'd even seen her arrive, wearing a cute summer dress and glasses. This look was…a little different.
"Supergirl," Harley greeted, Surprised. "I didn't—uh—I didn't know you were coming."
Rather than engage in the same faux conversation Harley and Pam had been having, however, Kara knelt down next to her chair, leaning forward to whisper in her ear: "Dr. Quinzel, is it OK if I ask your wife to dance? She seems sad and Supergirl's the only one who could dance with her without it looking suspicious, I think."
Harley's heart melted. "Is that why you changed?"
Kara nodded silently.
"Then you're free to ask," Harley couldn't help but smile, even though it meant forfeiting her moment with Pam. She'd let Kara be her surrogate.
Pam looked at Harley first before giving Kara her answer, her wife giving her the go-ahead.
"Excuse me, ladies." Flash interrupted.
"There's another cake under the table." Harleen told him distractedly, wanting to get back to she and Pamela's conversation. "Pam alerted me to your unique caloric requirements."
"No," he laughed. "Thank you, but I was coming to ask for a dance."
"I'm not sure how effectively Harleen's wheels will—"
The blonde woman smiled and placed her hand on Ivy's knee to interrupt her. "I think he meant with you, Babe."
Pam looked up at him confusedly at first, but her expression quickly changed to guarded and skeptical. "Why…?"
"Is she always paranoid?" Flash asked the bride in the wheelchair.
"Go, Pam." Harleen patted her knee. "Live a little so I can live vicariously through you."
She was yanked out of her memory when Selina flopped down heavily next to her. "I'm exhausted."
Harley blinked, registering Selina's presence, and the absence of the two couples she and Pam had been shining on. "God, you were so drunk…"
Selina looked confusedly at her. "I'm sorry?"
"At my wedding," Harley explained. "Flash came to ask Pam to dance, and then you sat down next to me, absolutely wasted."
"Oh," Selina looked down at her lap. "Yeah, Harley—look, I've apologized, that's really all I can do at this point."
"No, it's not—it's not that," Harley said. "It's…you're the only one that's changed. All this time, you're the only one that's any different. Look, Pam's still dancing with a superhero, I'm still in this fucking chair, but you...fuck, Selina. I'm back in this fucking chair."
Selina nodded slowly. "For like the last five years now, yes."
"No, I mean…" Harley wiped a tear away from her eye. "I worked so hard just to end up right back where I started."
The brunette looked out onto the dancefloor, observing the wide berth the other guests were giving Ivy and Supergirl. "No, Harley, you're not the same. You not being able to walk again doesn't erase everything else you've done. You were pretty shitty back then, Harley. I mean—we all were, but it's not just me who's changed." She said, taking Harley's hand. "I'm sitting here right now knowing that you are my friend. Happy that Pam chose you. Happy that I've been given the opportunity to watch your kids mature, happy that your daughter is now officially a Wayne. None of that would have been true back then. I hated you, Harleen. I mean it, I really did. And chair or no chair, you're a better person now then you've ever been."
Harley swallowed, now watching Pam as well. "I wish I could be the wife she deserves," she said, quietly. "And I wish—I hate that she has to keep putting my pieces together."
Selina cleared her throat. "Do you know what I've learned about Pam in the 50-something years we've known each other?" she waited until Harley had turned to her to continue. "I learned that she's a caretaker. She wants to help things grow. Her plants, her kids, even you…that's what she does in the Spring: helps her flowers grow. And in the Summer, she lives with them…she loves them…and then in the Fall she sits with them as they wilt. She knows that all of these stages are of equal importance." Selina stopped to swallow back the emotion that was creeping into her voice. "You are in your Fall, Harley. And so she'll sit with you and love you just as much as she did in your summer and in your spring. That's her burden, and she shoulders it with pride."
Selina was looking at her intently now, forcing her to make eye contact. "You didn't want to take that on with her. You didn't want to help her replant after winter. And neither did I, for that matter. Or Bruce. And Talia—who had the balls to show up here today, that slippery bitch—never plants anything at all, so she's free to survive her cycles without burden.
They heard Kara's laugh over the music, and that made Harley smile.
"So I say we count our blessings," Selina concluded. "And appreciate Pam's attention and assistance, and tell her that's exactly what we're doing while we're still here. Because she's the one who will ultimately be left alone, not us. Because we get to move on, eventually, and that makes our burden a whole helluva lot easier to shoulder."
"Hey," Bruce greeted as he pulled a chair up, sitting down next to Selina. "See? Weddings aren't so bad, are they?"
Selina smiled, leaning in to give him a slow kiss, breathing in as she did. "I love weddings Bruce. Especially the ones that aren't mine."
/
"Bye, Ma. Thank you guys so much," Jo pulled she and Selina into a hug. "Goodbye, Ivy," she waved to her where the redhead was standing off to the side, mouthing 'love you' before looping her arm around Damian's.
They were nearly at the car when Damian stopped cold, looking into the shadows like a hunting dog who'd just heard a stick break.
"What?" Jo asked, confused…until Talia al Ghul stepped out of the shadows.
"Mother?" Damian said, sounding genuinely surprised.
Seriously? Now? Jo groaned internally. Their honeymoon was only 48 hours and they were already on the clock.
"Damian," the woman intoned.
"Uh…Jo?" she offered, trying to feel included.
"What are you—what are you doing here?" Damian was trying to sound firm, but it came out a little shaky. "You weren't invited."
"You're the only child I have, Damian," she reminded him. "I wasn't about to miss your wedding."
"Alright," Jo separated from him, crossing her arms, "but—uh—you've missed every other important milestone, so…sorta lame to just drop him off on his Father's doorstep and suddenly show up when he turns out well-adjusted."
"Jo, it's fine," Damian said. "Just get in the car."
"Aww, boo. You're not gonna let me meet your Mom?" she pouted.
"You already have," Damian intoned, his gaze cold. "Her name is Selina Kyle."
"Oof," Jo cringed on Talia's behalf. "Better luck next time, Tally-ho."
Author's note: That song is called "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur and I listened to it WAAAAAYYYYY too many times while writing this chapter.