Pamela's stomach turned as the wind whipped through her hair. She was suddenly reminded of that rollercoaster Harley had insisted they go on. It'd been awful. Better when she grasped Harley's hand, though, just as this experience improved when she wrapped her arms around Kara's neck.

"Am I going too fast?"

Pam could barely hear her with the wind whistling around them. "No, just—don't drop me."

"Pamela," Kara slowed down as she approached the needle point of a skyscraper, gently setting her down on the uppermost ring. "I would never drop you," she assured her, hands resting on her thighs.

Vines shot out of Ivy's arms as she panicked when the building swayed, securing her to the spot…at the same time rendering her immobile.

Supergirl's eyes widened with realization and embarrassment. "Oh no, are you afraid of heights?"

"I think—most people that—can't fly—would be afraid of this height," Ivy gritted, trying her best to stay positive, though her heart was in her throat and her stomach was tied into knots, and not exactly in a pleasant way. "Plants prefer to stay rooted."

"Well…then it's a good thing you're up here with me," Kara smiled reassuringly, moving her hands from her thighs to her waist and holding her firmly. "I thought, since I spend all day in the garden with you, maybe you'd like to spend some time in the sky with me?"

Ivy raised an eyebrow. "All day?"

"OK, so maybe I wanted to show off a little," Kara sheepishly admitted. "I can do cool stuff too, see?"

Pam laughed, the fear fading for just a moment. "I never doubted that."

Kara grinned, leaning forward suddenly to kiss her, blushing when she pulled back a few moments later. "I'm sorry, I got excited."

Looking up at her from beneath her lashes, Pam murmured, "I don't see what you have to apologize for." And when Kara's smile broadened, Pam attempted to raise her hands to pull her into a deeper kiss…only to be unceremoniously stopped by her vines, resulting in an awkward jerking motion.

Kara belly laughed when Ivy flushed a darker shade of green. "I think maybe we're both a little rusty."

This time, Pam was successful in freeing her arms, trusting that Kara's grip on her waist would keep her in place, and kissed her to stop Kara's laughter, tangling her hands in her blonde hair as it whipped about.

She may have been able to stop her laughing, but her smile seemed there to stay…though even that faded away when Ivy teased her lips with her tongue, resulting in a startled moan that sent the winged creatures in Ivy's stomach aflutter.

/

"You guys read Catco this morning?"

"Seeing as how neither of us are teenaged girls or stay-at-home moms trying to stay informed in between soccer pick-ups…no," Jo replied distractedly, without looking up from her Sudoku.

"You were a stay-at-home mom, Mom," Daisy reminded her, joining her parents at the table. "And Delilah was a collegiate soccer player."

"Were being the operative word…" Jo mumbled. "I was also a teenaged girl at one point. And yes, I read a lot of Catco Magazine. I'm sorry," she finally set her stylus down. "Why are you here, again? It's 9am."

"Aren't you usually shooing a scantily clad woman out of your loft right about now?" Damian posed after a sip of coffee.

Ignoring her Father, Daisy said, "Just making sure you're doing alright."

"And why wouldn't I be?"

"You know why, Mom."

Rolling her eyes, Jo heaved a rather aggressive sigh. "Why do I need to read Catco? Are fitted suits going out of fashion again? Your Dad's gonna cry."

"And I'm not tucking my shirt in without a belt, either," Damian snapped. "Nor am I allowing my shoes to tie themselves. I have one and a half hands for a reason."

"Yeah!" Jo agreed with feigned gusto. "So you can stubbornly fumble with your laces for 30 minutes and make us late to everything!"

Daisy wrinkled her nose, looking between her parents. "What happened to you guys? 60 isn't supposed to be indiscernible from 80."

"We were tired at 20, Babe," Jo explained. "Now show me what I need to see so I can go back to bed."

Disappointed with the less than enthusiastic build-up, Daisy pulled her tablet out of her bag, unlocking it and sliding it over so her Mother could see.

Jo frowned. "Pretty sure the Mommy kink thing is your issue, not mine."

"What?"

Jo held up the screen, pointing at the google search "psychoanalysis of mommy kink".

Daisy's face went bright red, nearly launching across the table to snatch it away from her, though Jo dodged her, calmly scrolling down the search results before she began to laugh.

"Well will you lookie here," she opened up a page. "Constructs of the 'Mommy Complex', by Dr. Harleen F. Quinzel, M.D—Christ, the internet is terrifying. Good find, but I really don't feel like reading an academic paper on my parents' sex life; you understand."

"That's not—well, yeah, umm—yeah, well that was only the first thing I wanted to show you," Daisy stumbled through her words, though her skin did return to a normal color, waiting for Jo to return the tablet to her. When she did, Daisy opened the website she'd intended to in the first place, showing her the front page image of Supergirl kissing Poison Ivy atop a building in National City.

"Oh my God." Jo blinked, taking in the photo in all its glory. "D—Babe, Damian, look."

"Hm?" he mused, setting down the cream he'd been pouring into his coffee, taking the tablet when it was handed to him.

It seemed to take him a second to figure out what he was looking that, but when he did, he immediately launched the tablet at the wall, completely shattering the screen. "Her?!"

Daisy was horrified, and jumped out of her seat in surprise…thoroughly bewildered when Jo's reaction to Damian's apparent outburst was a gleeful laugh.

"Why, Pamela? Why?!"

"What the fuck, you guys?!" Daisy demanded. "That thing was like $2000!"

Jo was only barely able to restrain her laugh to a smile when she said, "Well fuck me sideways. Damian, how are we gonna get our hands on that kinda dough?!"

Damian fished around in the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out his wallet and tossing it across the table at his daughter. "Worth it."

/

Kara looked nervously over her shoulder as she keyed in the code for the front door, the machine scanning her handprint before finally unlocking.

Pam offered a smile when Kara turned around to look at her again. "Is something the matter?"

"Oh, no," she said quickly, almost defensively. "No, not really, it's just…well, I haven't had anyone here since Lena…since she passed."

Frowning slightly, Pam said, "You haven't had any company over in 10 years?"

"No, no, I have, I have, ha ha," Kara sounded uncomfortable as she adjusted her glasses. "Just not somebody—somebody like you. Somebody who I…"

"Kiss and go to dinner with?" Pam helped her out.

"Right," Kara nodded. "Yeah, that.

"Well, I promise you I'll be respectful," Pam assured her. "But I also don't want to force you into anything you're uncomfortable with. So if you'd like me to go—,"

"No!" Kara planted a quick kiss on her cheek. "No, please don't go, I just…Sorry," she laughed. "Sorta freaked out for a second there. Anyway, umm—so yeah." She pushed the door open, holding it for Pam to step in first.

The redhead slipped her overcoat off of her shoulders as she entered the foyer, hanging it over her forearm before Kara took it from her, putting it up in the closet near the front door.

The lights came on automatically as they stepped into the first room, and it was all very…shiny. Like something out of those Star Trek movies Anthony loved so much as a child. Or like a homier version of the Justice League Watchtower. Though it still felt rather stark for what Pam had expected of Kara.

That's when Pam remembered Lena had been an engineer. "Was Lena the decorator?"

"And the architect." Kara smiled contentedly, her hands on her hips. "It's called a smart house. She designed the whole thing. Programed it herself…she was really proud of it."

The further her eyes wandered, the more impressed Pam became. "Is it equipped with AI technology?"

"Yep!" Kara grinned, clapping her hands. "Hey, Mom?"

"Welcome home, Kara," a woman's voice replied—though no physical body materialized. "Who is your friend?"

"Oh, um, this is Pamela," Kara replied. "She's a friend from work…and stuff."

Pam chuckled. "You call your AI 'Mom'?"

"Well, it is my Mom, sorta…" Kara attempted to explain. "See, the pod I was sent here in came equipped with his holographic AI manifestation of my Mother. My real Mother died when Krypton did, but this was a way for her to stay alive for me, in a way. She can answer my questions, give advice…basically just a kind ear with a human and Kryptonian encyclopedia in her head. But Lena found a way to merge the Kyptonian technology with what she set up here…so now Mom runs the house."

"That's…brilliant," Pam realized.

"She said with surprise in her voice, for some reason." Kara giggled. "Sorry to introduce you to my Mom right off the bat."

"Well, you've met my entire living family," Pam reminded her. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Zor-El," she addressed the empty room, receiving a grin and a blush from Kara in return.

"The pleasure is all—,"

"OK, you can go away now, Mom," Kara interrupted, her gaze trained resolutely on her feet. "Sorry, she can be nosy. Are you hungry? I have ice cream. Pistachio. I thought you might like pistachio ice cream."

"Look, Mom!" Anthony exclaimed, shoving the mess in Pam's face. "It's like the polar ice caps!"

Harleen bit her lip to starve off a laugh and tried to read Pam's reaction.

The redhead looked at the melted cone and then at her son's proud expression at his analogy. "An apt assessment."

Pam cleared her throat, closing her eyes for a moment. "Actually, I got plenty of sun today," she plastered on a smile. "I think I'm full."

"You don't like sweets that much, huh?" Kara prompted.

"See, if you were Harleen, that would be the set up for a joke on how you are the exception." Pam couldn't help herself…but Kara didn't seem to mind.

"That's…kind've suggestive," Kara laughed, the sound transforming Pam's smile into something more genuine.

"It certainly is."

It was silent for a moment before Kara moved on. "Can—um—can I have some, though?"

/

"So…I caught wind of something."

"Oh?"

"Yes, yes, it seems…well, it's appears—I don't want to jump to any conclusions—but it appears Poison Ivy might be…a lesbian."

Jo gasped. "The scandal!"

"I know, I know," Anthony acknowledged gravely. "I am as surprised as you are. Floored, even."

"How unnatural of a man-hating vegetarian."

Anthony laughed. "Alright, in all seriousness, this is like the 6th time I've seen them in the tabloids in the last three months, and…she still hasn't talked to me about it."

"Well, perhaps she's not serious about it," Jo theorized. "Maybe she's just blowing off some steam."

"Since when has Mom been that type?"

Jo sighed, laying back on her bed. "I don't know; I'm just trying to make you feel better. I'm sure she feels like it's a betrayal to us, or something. Like she's betraying Ma…I assume including us would make it feel more real."

"Do you think she's betraying Ma?"

"Ma's dead, Tony. Mom staying faithful for the rest of eternity isn't going to bring her back, and if it would, you know she'd lock up that chastity belt in an instant."

"…yeah, I know."

"Thanks for the birthday card, by the way," Jo changed the subject.

"62…" she could hear him smiling through the phone. "I guess that makes me old."

"Yeah, and your lady friend even older."

Anthony scoffed. "I'd prefer 'Partner'."

"No…you'd prefer 'wife'," Jo corrected. "It's just some fucking papers, Anthony, and it would make you happy. I don't see why she still insists on this I don't believe in marriage shit."

"She's 78," there was a sad acceptance in his voice. "Doesn't really matter anymore."

"You were 22 when you met, Bro," Jo reminded him. "She had plenty of fucking time. And it matters to you."

Anthony sighed. "Look, Jo, I gotta go. Glad I caught you, though."

"Me too," she smiled against the phone. "I love you, alright?"

"Yeah, alright. Ditto."

"You should call her," Damian encouraged from the doorway after Anthony hung up.

Jo kept the phone at her ear, meanwhile letting her gaze drift to the ceiling before, eventually, letting her eyes slip closed. "I had a nightmare last night," she murmured. "Ma was…inside of her…and she pulled her close by her dress, leaned into her hear, and whispered those same words. His words. And I…I could feel her heart stop beating in her chest."

"He…meaning her rapist?" Damian asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Jo nodded silently, her eyes still closed.

"Did Harleen know?"

"Yes," Jo mumbled. "I had that dream years ago. Mom was in the hospital, and Ma was—God, she was so young. And she told her Woodrue wasn't her monster anymore. Told her to leave him behind."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Meanwhile, Harleen pocketed that information for future use?"

Jo pressed her palms into her eye sockets, letting the phone rest on her pillow. "I used to think I had Ma nailed, and Mom was this…bizarre enigma. But I'm realizing I only really knew the parts of Ma she wanted to show us."

"Would you have wanted to meet the other parts?" Damian asked. "Now that you know about them?"

Jo curled into the fetal position, bringing her knees to her chest and rolling over onto her side. "I don't want to think about it right now."

"Well, maybe you—,"

"Don't."

She could feel his anger rising, even without looking at him.

"Call your Mother."

/

Pam pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, turning on her phone after she'd retracted her leotard and changed into her civilian clothes.

No missed calls, but there was an unread text message waiting for her.

Jolene: hey mom r u free tonite?

Rolling her eyes, Pam replied: Are you allergic to complete spelling?

She replied rather quickly, which honestly surprised Pam, Jo wasn't exactly great at getting back to people.

Jolene: that a yes?

Another text came in before Pam could type a response.

Jolene: can u and kara come to dinner? I'm not cocking don't worry

…

…

*cooking

…

But im not doing that other thing either

Pam laughed out loud, and Kara raised an amused eyebrow at her from across the room as she buttoned her shirt. "What's so funny?"

"An unfortunate spelling error," Pam explained quickly, reading over the text message again, and biting her lip until she built up the courage to ask: "would you like to come to dinner at my daughter's house tonight?"

A smile spread slowly over Kara's lips until it had grown into a face-splitting grin. "You really want me to?"

"Well, yes…but Jo also requested it," Pam admitted.

Kara's eyes went wide. "She did?"

Now Pam was a bit confused. "I seem to recall you socializing with my daughter on multiple occasions, beginning when she was 10 years old, if I remember correctly."

"No, I mean—yeah." Kara blushed. "But we weren't, um, kissing and going to dinner then."

"Oh…" Pam still wasn't completely sure what Kara was to her. Someone that made her feel safe and warm, certainly. Who made her smile, and who made her heart beat faster when they touched…but, was Jo expecting some formal introduction? Would she ask Pam to define their relationship? Could Pam define their relationship? What did Jo want to hear? "I don't see why it has to be any different," she eventually decided. "I'd like you to come."

"OK," Kara agreed with a shy smile. "Then I'd love to."

/

"Yeah, three of those, please. Actually," Jo amended. "Make it four. Same with the chicken….Yeah, yeah, big party," she humored the man taking her order over the phone. "Delivery, please. Can you have it here in an hour?...what if I guarantee at least a $100 tip?...$200?...great. Thank you."

She hung up, discarding her pajama pants and replacing them with a pair of slacks, noticing the sound of a struggle in the other room now that the line was dead.

Leaving the closet for the bedroom, Jo found Damian standing in front of the mirror, fumbling with his bowtie.

"You can't do that with one hand," she reminded him. When he didn't answer, she followed up with, "Did you leave the prosthetic downstairs?"

"It's fine," he mumbled with obvious frustration.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Why are you even wearing that? It's my Mother, not the Queen of England."

"Can you just leave me alone?" he snapped. "Have to figure this out eventually, don't I?"

With an exasperated sigh, Jo asked, "Can I help you this time? Please? It's painful to watch."

Damian laughed mirthlessly. "This is painful to watch? This? How fucking ironic."

"Fine," Jo murmured after a few moments of searching for a response. "If this is how you want to go about it, it's—fine. That's your prerogative." She headed for the stairs. "Be downstairs in 30, bowtie or not."

"Hey, Mom," Delilah greeted as soon as she'd descended the grand staircase. "So Tiff's supposed to be following up a lead in Central tonight, meaning Duke needs to be on harbor patrol, but the Batmobile's still got that fucked axis."

"And?" Jo asked impatiently, heading for the kitchen.

Delilah followed, speaking as she did. "And, Max is with me tonight, but Tiff's taking the motorcycle. So what should we do? Not sure we can cover the patrol area on foot."

"Ugh!" Jo stopped to slam her fist against the wall. "I swear I'm about this close to flying to San Francisco and dragging my goddamn brother back here by his hair. The car should have been fucking fixed by now."

"Yeah, I know, Luke says he's working on it, but he's not as fast as Uncle Tony," Delilah apologized.

"This isn't my fucking job anymore, Delilah," Jo rather forcefully reminded her. "When we turned the mantles over, we did it with the expectation that you three would have your shit together."

Delilah looked surprised, blinking as her face went red. "I know, Mom, I'm just—sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. It's OK, me and Duke can figure it out."

Jo closed her eyes at her daughter's hurt expression, leaning against the wall, rubbing one of her temples with her middle and index fingers. "No, I'm sorry. That wasn't me, it—,"

"I know what it was, Mom," Delilah quietly interrupted. "Do you need an Advil or something?"

"Doesn't work on me," Jo murmured distractedly. "Have Duke drop Tiffany off in Central with the plane before he heads to the harbor, attach the side-car to the motorcycle and you and Max can take that."

"Oh…yeah, good idea," Lilah tried to smile. "Are you, um, gonna talk to Grandma tonight?"

"Leave it alone, Delilah," Jo warned. "It's not happening."

"I just think—,"

"I said, leave it alone."