Pamela dropped a thick stack of paper onto Harleen's stomach. "I'm going to grow it in the lab."

"What?" the blonde wheezed at the solid 5lbs that was just dropped onto her abdomen.

"Your child. Our child. The human child," Pamela was clearly excited. "I'm going to grow it in the lab like what Woodr—well there was an incubation process involved…after the table…" a darkness passed through her eyes and Harleen held her breath, ready to deal with the trigger if they came to it, but Pamela seemed to shake it off just as quick. "I think I can mimic the conditions of a womb using that technology."

Harleen was incredulous. "You want to grow our baby in a test tube?"

"But that's just it!" Pam gripped her hand, smiling broadly. "It could be our baby. Yours and mine."

"You're kidding," Harleen sat up from where she'd been lounging on the couch.

Pamela shook her head, her smile full of excitement. "It's all in here. Look," she tried to show Harley the handwritten equations that were evidently supposed to mean something.

"No, shhh, Babe," Harleen pushed the papers away and pulled Pam onto the couch instead. "The science stuff makes the baby making way less sexy."

The redhead couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I can't actually impregnate you. The fertilization will be taking place entirely—," she was cut off when Harleen grabbed her jacket and yanked her into a passionate kiss. "Can we tryyyyy?" she giggled.

"Honestly, Harleen," Ivy huffed. "You're a grown woman, this behavior—," this time she was cut off by Harley swiftly reversing their positions so the redhead was underneath her on the couch.

"That's right," Harleen grinned mischievously as she unbuttoned Pam's slacks and began to slide them down inch by inch. "I'm a grown-up who gets to have grown-up sleepovers with her grown-up wife."

"That's…not exactly a turn on," Pam admitted as she raised her hips to help with the removal process.

"Then why are we taking these off?" The blonde referred to the pants as she tossed them aside.

"Well, I thought I'd give you another chance to wow me before I turned the tables," Pamela told her, and from her expression, Harleen knew she meant business.

/

Poison Ivy sat at Batman's desk distractedly tapping her thigh.

She hated this. The whole premise of the question made her feel weak- needy. Poison Ivy was neither of those things. Never had been. It was embarrassing, really.

To ask for something is to open yourself up to rejection, and because that wasn't a concept Ivy was intimately familiar with, she tended to take it harder than those plainer people who'd grown accustomed to the word "no".

But this wasn't for her. It was for Harleen. So she would swallow her pride, if only for a moment, and ask Batman the question she'd prepared...If only he would get here.

Ivy had already been waiting in the Batcave for 20 minutes, and when the Batmobile did eventually show up, it wasn't even Batman driving it.

Batgirl came to a stop on the parking platform and hopped out of the butterfly door, tossing the keys to Alfred as he entered the cave from the house, likely thinking Bruce was captaining the vehicle as well.

"Hey, Pam," Barbara smiled as she pulled her cowl off, letting it fall to hang like a hood around her neck. "Isn't it your day off?"

Ivy waited until the girl descended the steps down to her level before responding, that way she wouldn't have to shout. "I'm on call," she explained her bodysuit.

"Ah," Barbara stripped off her gloves and set them on the desk the other woman was sitting at. "So you're here for Harl, then? I'm pretty sure she doesn't get off at Arkham for another three hours. Dick's out patrolling, I was going to do a master scan…" she tried to subtly motion to the computer.

"Oh, sorry," Ivy got up and Barbara took her place on the chair, booting up the program on the large monitor. "You're correct about Harley; she's planning on taking the nightshift here so you can sleep. You look tired, Darling."

"Thanks, Mom," Barbara teased as she pressed the button to start scanning the city for threats.

That word cut through the distraction and reminded Ivy of her mission here. "I need to speak with Bruce."

"He's visiting Selina," Barbara informed her. "Can I help?"

Ivy sighed. "I suppose I've been procrastinating on a visit of my own…"

Barbara chuckled. "Sorry. You need a change of clothes?"

Pamela looked down at herself, realizing that Poison Ivy's bodysuit probably wasn't the proper attire for a human-run rehab center.

"Selina keeps some extra stuff in Bruce's closet," Barbara told her as the results of the system's scan came back: two possible threats. She stood up. "I gotta go. We still on for book club this week?"

Ivy was nodding when Alfred came behind them and tapped her on the shoulder. "Here you are, Dr. Isley," he handed her what was presumably an appropriate outfit in a garment bag. "And might I suggest…" he dangled a set of keys from his index finger.

/

Pamela sped along the back roads of Gotham City, Selina's Porsche cornering admirably.

Coming to a screeching halt in front of the building, Pamela tossed her keys to the valet (was he a valet? ah well) and pushed the pair of aviator sunglasses she'd borrowed from Selina's console up on her head, using them to pin back her red locks.

She strutted up to the front desk, leaning over to inquire where Selina Kyle's room was.

"Are you a friend or a family member?" The nurse behind the counter asked. "Because we only let family in without a scheduled visit."

Pamela groaned internally. "I'm her sister."

"Okay…" the woman lifted a clipboard from her top drawer and handed it to Pamela. "You'll need to fill out these forms and then submit to a full body search."

There's no way I'll be doing any of that. "Is there a doctor I could speak to?"

And then, as if summoned by magic, a man in a tie entered through the door behind the nurse's station.

"Dr. Grimmie," the nurse got his attention. "This woman wanted to speak to a doctor."

"How can I help you, Miss?" he asked, looking at her expectantly.

Pam swallowed her anger at not being addressed using the "Doctor" credential, and smiled at him, cranking up the pheromones she secreted. "I would like to see my sister, but I don't want to have to fill out this paperwork and I certainly don't wish to be felt up like a common human."

"That's alright," the man answered, a dopey grin on his face. "You can just go in."

"Doctor Grimmie?" The nurse was alarmed at his sudden departure from protocol.

Pamela briefly turned her attention back to the woman. "Your concern does not go unnoticed. I can assure you, though, I am no threat to Ms. Kyle's recovery. I'm the one who suggested she come here in the first place. Doctor?" she focused on the man once more. "Would you kindly escort me to my desired location?"

The doctor obliged her, and despite the nurse's frustration and protests, he did walk her to Selina's room.

"Thank you," Pam said. "Now go away and never attempt to speak to me again."

"Okay," he grinned and started back towards the lobby.

"Idiot," Pam muttered as she opened the door.

The room looked more like an upscale one-bedroom apartment than a rehab facility. It suddenly made a lot of sense why there would be valet parking up front. Bruce was sitting on the bed and Selina sat across from him on the ground with her back against the wall. Both looked up when Ivy entered.

"No fucking way," Selina said. "She finally came."

Pam rolled her eyes. "You've only been here a week, Cat. Honestly."

"Hey, you don't get to tell me when to not be disappointed with you," Selina said. "And what the hell, Ivy? You just barge in here without knocking? What if me and Bruce had been doing the nasty?"

Bruce smirked at her word choice.

"Then I would have kindly asked the nursing staff for some chemicals that I could use to burn my eyes out," Pam answered, calmly, sitting down next to Bruce on the bed.

"Oh, knock it off," Selina glared. "How's your child-bride anyway?"

"Selina!" Pam couldn't believe they were back to this. "Harleen is 37 years old. When will she no longer be a child to you?"

"And you're only 5 years older, Selina," Bruce reminded her. "Come up with some new material."

"Ugh," Selina groaned, leaning her head back against the wall. "I want a drink."

Pam regarded Selina for a moment, noticing the obvious fatigue in her shoulders and the dark circles under her eyes, then turned to Bruce. "I need 1.3 million dollars and I would like you to give it to me," she'd decided to go for the blunt approach.

Selina's head snapped back to attention and Bruce choked on the air he was attempting to breathe. "You want what for what?" he asked.

Pamela sighed at having to repeat the information. "I would like 1.3 million dollars for a scientific pursuit…Thank you."

"There's no way I'm—"

"Harleen wants a child," Pamela confessed, the truth spilling forth without her consent.

Pamela held her breath waiting for their reactions, neither responding right away. Selina's jaw dropped and Bruce's eyes widened, causing him to suddenly looked like a person one might encounter in Arkham.

"I believe I have come up with a way in which the child could be both hers and mine," Pam continued because the room was still silent. "You see, a normal human child wouldn't be able to survive prolonged exposure to me, and would be too young to receive the immunity I afforded Harleen. So, really, a child that shares my DNA- including some degree of immunity- is the only workable scenario."

"What in the actual fuck?!" Selina demanded.

Pam sighed once more. "Harleen Quinzel, the woman I'm married to. You remember her, don't you? You were in our wedding? She was in a wheelchair for a while…blonde hair, blue eyes…"

"Don't be a dick, Ivy. Yeah, I got it," Selina sat forward. "Now explain the rest."

The redhead pinched the bridge of her nose and began a bit slower this time. "Harleen would like a child. I am married to Harleen, therefore her having a child means my having a child. There are certain biological and physiological factors that prohibit not only successful procreation, but also survival of the fetus, infant, or even toddler. I have discovered a way to create a child that would not only share our DNA, but would also survive the toxins I emit. However, that plan requires me to more or less recreate the incubation chamber that…" she cleared her throat. "...that Jason Woodrue used to make me."

Selina nodded slowly. "Hence the 1.3 million dollars."

"Right," Pamela nodded.

"So, what you're essentially asking me is if I will fund the creation of another Poison Ivy? Another plant-human hybrid?" Bruce wasn't sold.

"I'll have to experiment with the proper ratio of plant to human…and without those tests there's no way for me to gauge what- if any- their special abilities would be," Ivy admitted. "But my request isn't nefarious in any sense. My wife wants a baby; I would like to give her one."

"Well, when you put it like that…" Selina scoffed. "What about you? Do you want a baby?"

The redhead cleared her throat. "I was…I was against the proposal initially, but have since come around to a different opinion."

"How'd she convince you?" Selina wanted to know. "Sex? Guilt? Doe-eyes? All three, maybe? All three simultaneously? Pammy, she's a manipulator."

"Don't call me Pammy," Ivy snapped.

Bruce had been deep in thought during Pam and Selina's exchange, and so it startled both women when he suddenly spoke up.

"Yes," he looked Pamela in the eye. "Yes, I will give you the money and provide the lab space, should you need it. But if it's a boy, I'm putting him in a Robin suit."