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Homecomings always felt awkward to Tabitha, even when she hadn’t been dead for almost a year.
(Well, sorta dead? Mostly dead, and then less dead, and then a little... confused... She would kill Hugo Strange if she had any idea where he was, even if she did like being alive.)
She had asked around before she came, but the most she got out of people was that Barbara was alive and had held the Sirens territory for as long as Gotham was a cut off from the rest of the world. Apparently news still didn’t travel well or freely, though admittedly she had avoided people who knew her. It was hard to get any real intel that way, especially with nothing to trade, but it also made it harder for Penguin to locate her while she tried to figure out where, exactly, they would stand after all this. She did die, after all.
The club was, weirdly, not much different. Some redecorating had taken place, but, well, as many fights as they’d had in here that was to be expected. That they managed to keep most of the booths intact so long was a miracle. Really, the only noteworthy thing was how quiet and empty it was, and given Barbara had a way of emptying a place when she felt like it, Tabitha chose not to be too worried about it.
What Tabitha wasn't expecting was for Selina to walk—walk—out of Barbara's office and then stop in her tracks, staring up at Tabitha with wide, questioning eyes.
In fairness, Tabitha was probably looking about the same. The last she’d seen the kid had been before tensions rose enough she couldn’t get back into the Green Zone, where Selina'd been asleep in a hospital bed while nervous doctors politely told Tabitha there really was nothing they could do. It was admittedly hard to keep track of people when you’d been stabbed in the chest, but this definitely seemed like miracle territory.
Hopefully Strange hadn’t done anything weird to her. Tabitha was glad she could walk, but she had a soft spot for the kid and liked her just the way she was. Even if she was sorta soft and had bad taste in boys (which, admittedly, they all shared).
She broke their stand off first, stepping forward and pulling Selina into a quick hug that the girl barely seemed to register, much less return, and when she stepped back Selina just stared up at her.
“Barbara said you were dead.”
“And you were paralyzed, last I heard. Were they wrong? Does money actually buy everything?"
"Not quite," she said carefully.
Tabitha raised an eyebrow and smiled, but there was something off in Selina's face and she knew when to let a sore subject lie. And when to wait and ask Barbara before interrogating a certain teenage boy if all else failed. She ruffled Selina’s hair, earning her an exasperated look with just the hint of a smile. "Never a dull day in Gotham, huh?"
Before Selina could come up with a reply, the silence was pierced by a high, whiny cry from the office.
It sounded like a baby. Just like the brightly colored toy on the bar behind Selina looked an awful lot like a baby’s. Just like the empty baby bottle on the counter looked an awful lot like a baby’s...
Tabitha groaned, and looked back at the girl. “Oh, Selina, don’t tell me the Wayne kid knocked you up.”
Selina spluttered. “No. It’s Gordon’s."
Tabitha momentarily felt her entire world shift. That didn’t even make sense. She wasn’t planning on jumping straight to murder the moment she got home, but, well—
“And Barbara’s,” Selina continued with a scowl, seemingly following Tabitha's thoughts.
The world blessedly realigned itself.
And, yes, maybe Tabby wasn’t quite all back yet (or maybe the crying was interfering with her ability to process information), because that admittedly was a lot more plausible.
Then again, maybe she just didn't want to have to think about the alternative. She couldn’t kill Gordon for knocking up Barbara, after all.
"And you better keep it that way. No babies for you unless you want me to break somebody’s kneecaps.” Really, she should have a conversation with the Wayne kid himself at some point, though honestly she didn’t think that either of them could make it far enough into a make-out session for it to actually be a problem. He just didn't seem the type, despite his displays while embracing his inner drunken brat, and, as much as Selina talked, Tabitha thought actually living a little was well outside of her parameters.
Selina only raised her eyebrows, mouth slightly agape, and got that look on her face that said she was about to find anywhere to be but having this conversation.
“Well, good,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “No babies for you, then. And you're fine, which is even more important."
"Yeah. And you’re not dead,” Selina said slowly. “Which is also... cool?”
“Yeah." Cool, cool, cool. "Babs had a kid with the cop?”
Selina just winced, not meeting her eyes.
Tabitha looked past Selina to the office, where the wailing had blessedly stopped, at least. She hated babies. She really hated babies. They were loud and needy and couldn’t be left on their own. Not her thing. Cats weren't even her thing. The most she could handle was small, angry, self-sufficient teenagers, and she wasn't even very good at that.
She took a breath, clapped a hand on Selina's shoulder, and pushed past her toward the jaws of death.
“Barbara, what the fuck?”
.
Barbara was already standing in the doorway before Tabitha made it back, making the look on Selina's face earlier look almost comically understated. Her voice didn't quite crack.
“Tabby?”
She looked... well, Barbara looked like an overtaxed mother, which would almost be a funny thought if it wasn’t also true. Tired, and dishevel, and not at all like someone who could smile while beating a man to death and then complain that she'd "just bought those shoes." Barbara Kean, comma, Mother. It was a strange thought.
It was also making it very hard for Tabby to keep a straight face, which was awkward when Barbara was looking at her like a ghost.
“I buried you,” she breathed.
Tabitha shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's Gotham. Check for a pulse next time, or whatever."
Barbara closed the distance between them suddenly, one hand burying itself in her hair while the other pulled her forward by the lapel of her jacket and into a kiss. At least that answered the question of whether or not she was planning her marriage to Gordon again.
When she pulled back Barbara frowned. “How?”
"Long story. Though apparently grave robbery became a lucrative business for a little while. Admittedly seems about right for this city." She ran a hand through Barbara's hair. "You look like crap."
"And you look like you're wearing a potato sack."
Tabitha looked down at her pilfered outfit. “I think I did pretty good for a dead girl in the apocalypse.”
Barbara’s lips twitched into a lopsided smirk, a sparkle in her eyes, but she didn't say anything.
Another piercing cry broke the silence and continued as Barbara turned and marched back into the office, Tabitha at her heels. There was a crib by the desk, its plain white out of place next to the ornate golds and sharp blacks of the rest of the room. "This wasn't the homecoming I was expecting."
Barbara pursed her lips, still staring down at the crib, where a little ball of green fabric and pink baby was letting the world know something was not how it should be. "When does anything actually go as expected for us?"
“Touché.” She stopped and squinted as Barbara picked up the baby (who seemed slightly less inclined to scream its lungs out once in her arms, but looked like it could start again any moment). Maybe Tabitha wasn’t all back yet, but she could do math. “Was I even dead a week before you fell into Gordon’s obnoxious, pasty arms?”
Barbara had the decency to look embarrassed. “More or less.”
She raised an eyebrow and looked back at the kid. “Nice to know you were that fucked up about it, honestly. What’s her name?”
Barbara leaned back against her desk, an odd twist to her lips. “Barbara."
Tabby slanted a look back up at Barbara. "That's... original. Named after your favorite person, was she?"
“Maybe. Do you want to hold her?"
She leaned back against the desk next to her and looked down at the little bundle of unhappy joy, who was looking back up at her with wide eyes. Did she want to hold her? She wasn't sure.
"It'll be fine, you just have to make sure to support her head," Barbara continued, taking her silence for agreement and shifting the baby into Tabitha's not-quite waiting arms. But it was fine, even if she was scrambling to remember if she knew anything about babies.
"She get a big head from her parents?" Barbara huffed in annoyance, but Tabitha's attention had already shifted to the baby. And, okay, maybe she was cute. Just a little bit. Tabby looked up. "I can't believe you, of all people, are a mother."
"Well, at least for another day." Off her frown Barbara continued. "I only have her on Tuesdays and Wednesdays right now."
Tabitha opened and closed her mouth. Maybe she had overestimated how much she missed Barbara. "You're telling me this is you after looking after a baby for a single day?"
"What? It's hard."
Barbara shrugged and sauntered out of the room, leaving Tabitha to awkwardly shift the baby while trying to decide if she should put her down or not. And... oh.
"Barbara, I think she needs to be changed. Barbara—"
This was not going to work.