DC Elseworlds Friday's Child

**Friday's Child **

* * *

_Monday's child is fair of face.  
Tuesday's child is full of grace.  
Wednesday's child is full of woe.  
Thursday's child has far to go.  
Friday's child is loving and giving.  
Saturday's child works hard for a living.  
But the child that's born on the Sabbath day,  
is bonny and blythe and good and gay. _

* * *

It had been entirely unexpected. Not that Lionel Lucifer Luthor was dead; he had never been in the best of health, and besides, he was seventy-three years of age. That he'd dropped dead peacefully in his sleep was far better than the slimy old reprobate deserved. However, the fact that had both acknowledged his illegitimate grandson in his will, and also bequeathed him quite a large sum of money, did come as quite a surprise.

Of course there was a catch. Lionel wanted to make sure that his 'legacy' would live on, and since his only living son – albeit out of wedlock – had never acknowledged any of his own bastard offspring, and never had any legitimate children with his wife, there was only one recourse.

"The only son of my only daughter will inherit the sum total of one third of my estate – equivalent to thirty million dollars gross – if, upon reaching the age of thirty, he has fathered a child," the lawyer read. "By natural or artificial means matters not; what does is that the child in question must be biologically of Conner Elliot Kent's blood."

Conner Kent was completely poleaxed. He'd never expected to get anything in his grandfather's will. Except, perhaps, for an insult. He'd only come to the reading of the will that Saturday because his mother, Alexandra Luthor, had needed his moral support.

Seeing the tears his mother tried to hide from the others in the room, Conner knew the insult had been deferred elsewhere. His grandfather, Lionel, had never made a secret of how unhappy he was to have had a daughter, and not a son. It was why he'd had an affair while his wife was ill with terminal cancer, netting him Lucas, who only had his gender going for him in the plus column. Once it was clear that Lucas' only strength lay in looking pretty, Lionel had then prevailed upon his only daughter to give him a grandson. But he hadn't approved of her choice of mate, and had let that be known.

At a mere forty-four years of age, with stormy grey eyes and thick, lush red hair, Alexandra Luthor was a fine figure of a woman, outwardly showing none of the effects that life's hardships had had on her. And there had been many.

Alexandra had only been nineteen when she'd had Conner. Her youth and medical complications from a sickly childhood had led her to have a very hard labor, and consequently, once Conner was birthed, she had been unable to have more children. Not only that, but to add insult to injury, her boyfriend of three years had deserted her only a few weeks after the birth. Oh, he played at being a part-time father, but Clark Kent wasn't very responsible. He was, at heart, a good person, but he'd never really looked for a higher purpose in life beyond 'looking out for number one.' He'd acknowledged Conner as his heir, even 'gifted' him with his family name, but they'd never really been father and son, anymore than Lucas and Lionel had been.

That Alexandra had found happiness with fellow CEO and inventor Ted Kord, only to have him pass away three years previously from a heart attack, simply added to her pain. And while as a senior partner in her father's brokerage firm, she would make enough money to take care of herself, in this case, it was more the principle of the matter.

And with the money he could inherit, Conner would be able to pay off the mortgage on his business, buy his duplex outright, and basically be set for life.

"The child has only to be conceived before the aforementioned time," the lawyer went on, "not born. Gender of the child in question is also not predetermined. If, however, the stipulations are not reached by the aforementioned time, the money will go to fund the Daily Planet newspaper."

Now Conner was not only incensed on behalf of his mother, but on his own behalf as well. Lionel would only have chosen that 'charity' to hurt the both of them, as that newspaper was where Clark Kent worked. It was also where he had met his wife of thirteen years. If Conner didn't fulfill the terms of the will, the money would, for all intents and purposes, go to his 'father' and his stepmother.

But he was already twenty-five years old; how the hell was he supposed to father a child in time?

* * *

When he posed the question to his best friend, roommate, and partner in their photography studio, Tamara Drake, the next morning, she had one thing to say: "Pay someone to be a surrogate mother."

When Conner just blinked at her uncomprehendingly, she sighed. "You'll be coming into a lot of money, right? Surely you could find **someone** willing to bear your child for a few thousand dollars."

"That sounds kinda…cold," Conner said, even knowing that that was probably what he'd have to do. Just…using a woman as a baby-making machine, though? Paying her for use of her uterus?

Tammy only shrugged and took another sip of her tea as she turned back to reading the morning paper. "You could try contacting one of your old girlfriends, but I wouldn't recommend it."

Conner's face twisted up in a grimace as he remembered. In high school, Tana Moon, his first real love, had been shot in a mugging attempt while on Spring Break in Daytona Beach. It had taken him years for his heart to heal. His short-lived relationship with fellow Metropolis University co-ed Roxanne Leech in college had been broken once she entered the Police Academy – in San Francisco. And the woman he'd almost married in the early days of his photography career, one Cassandra Sandsmark, a part-time model working her way through Met. Us archeology program, had chosen to follow her family's wishes – really, her Aunt Diana's – over her own heart.

There had been others, of course, but those were the top three. And none of them were possibilities to mother his child, for obvious reasons.

And obvious reasons were the only ones coming to his mind at that moment in time. Conner swigged down the rest of his second cup of coffee and tried to blink the sleep from his eyes. It wasn't even light yet; he should still be in bed. But he had to get to work; he was the boss, after all.

God, sometimes being an adult with responsibilities really sucked.

Eyeing Tammy, the early bird, with disdain, Conner shuffled over to the coffeemaker for another cup. He shoved some bread into the toaster, slurping on the coffee as he waited for his toast to pop up.

It was barely six in the morning – they both had to be into work early for a shoot – and while Conner felt bleary-eyed and way too tired to be thinking about anything more serious than what type of cereal to have for breakfast, Tammy managed to look completely wide awake, even if she was a little fuzzy around the edges. In a fluffy grey bathrobe over a blue nightshirt and ankle socks, she even managed to look like she hadn't just rolled out of bed, despite her unkempt appearance. Her hair was just long enough to need brushing to look neat, but not so long that if she forewent brushing it, it would look anything other than artfully tousled.

The fact that Conner was starting to realize that perhaps he was getting a bit too old for his own ponytail had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it took him longer to get ready in the morning than the woman sitting across from him. Nothing all at, no way, no how, no sir, no ma'am.

"Well, I suppose the first question you need to ask yourself is if the money is the only reason you're doing this," she mused, discarding the front page of the newspaper for the comics section.

Conner just looked at her. He wouldn't be contemplating going out and having a child right that very minute if it hadn't been in the stipulations of his grandfather's will.

Tammy sighed, and gave him the raised eyebrow look of, 'You're not really that dense, are you?' "I mean, would you have **eventually** had children, and you're only doing it **now** because of the money, or would you **never** have had children, and you're only doing it **at all** because of the money," she said, placing particular emphasis on certain words to get her meaning across.

Conner contemplated that for a moment, as he munched on his toast and spooned up Froot Loops. "When I was with Cassie…I thought about us having kids," he finally admitted. Of course he had; he'd almost asked her to marry him. Bought the ring, showed up at the restaurant, and before they could order dessert, she'd broken up with him. "I haven't really thought about it since then, but…I think I want to be a father. I…I really do." He did, he just…wanted the kid to have a mother in its life.

Tamara nodded, as if she'd expected nothing less. "And of course, you'd love the child," she said as if it was obvious. Which it was.

"Of course," Conner said with a nod.

Smirking at him with her eyes, Tammy said, as she left the table, "Then now all you need to do is find a mother."

Which was definitely easier said than done.

* * *

Conner spent the next three months searching and researching surrogate mothers and programs that would lead him to same. It took quite a while to compile even a short list of candidates, especially since he was only tentatively planning on an in vitro procedure. He could afford one, just barely, with his savings, but that was only twenty-five percent successful, even though it fertilized five eggs at one go. Conner didn't really want the possibility of quintuplets.

A turkey baster wasn't a sure thing, either, but it was certainly less expensive. The best way to father a child would be to do the traditional way, but Conner really wasn't sure about that. If it was someone he knew and cared about, that would be one thing, but a stranger…

Conner finally amassed a short list of possible candidates for women who would be willing to carry his child on a 'cash on delivery' basis, but none of them were willing to supply him with an egg in addition to the use of their uterus.

The few who would…well, one wanted a marriage of convenience, one wanted to raise the baby herself with him supplying child support (which, had he been the type of person his father was, might probably have appealed to him) and the remaining few… Well, Conner found it easy to make up reasons not to go with those women, even if it was only that the one seemed too eager to conceive the 'natural way' sans in vitro, and the other had a grating personality and severely bad B.O. and Conner considered those to possibly stem from bad genes.

There seemed to be a block, in his mind, preventing him from actually going through with getting someone pregnant.

When he told this to Tammy, she sighed. "Maybe you just don't like the idea of having a child with a stranger," she suggested. Her voice and posture were tense, and Conner felt sure that it didn't have anything to do with the prints she was working on developing. It was by far not the first time they'd had a conversation in their studio's darkroom while they were working.

Conner didn't know why else she could be so stressed, though. After all, **he** was the one that had to have a kid. If she were in this position, it would be simpler; all she'd have to do would be to go to a sperm bank. Hell, he'd even be willing to be her 'donor.' Then again, Tammy was nearly as invested as Conner in helping him gain his inheritance. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was very young, and she'd been raised by a cousin. Bruce Wayne had a lot of money, but try as he might – and he had – his paternal skills were lacking more than not. Alexandra had become a second mother to her in the years since she and Conner had met.

"It just…doesn't seem… I don't know," Conner said, pinning up another damp sheet of processed film. "I mean, unless the in vitro procedure takes the first time, I'll probably end up having to…do it the natural way." He blushed, not believing he was so embarrassed by talking about this. But then, it wasn't just sex he was talking about, it was conceiving a child and everything that entailed. There were few things more intimate. "And some of these women…I just…"

"Maybe it would help if it was someone you know," Tammy suggested guardedly. She was purposefully not looking at him.

Conner frowned at her back, the red light of the studio being swallowed up by her short dark hair and sheer black blouse. "Yeah, but **who**? I mean, Roxy only sends me Christmas cards, and Cassie hasn't talked to me since her 'Dear John' goodbye at that Italian restaurant. Cissie has said more than once that she's glad she's gay because she never wants kids, and even if Anita would do it, you know how possessive her husband is." He'd given every single woman – and some of the not-so-single women – of his acquaintance deep thought in the past weeks.

And he'd come to the conclusion that unless he fell in love at first sight with the next woman to walk in his door, he was SOL.

Tammy shrugged and dipped another sheet of film in the chemicals, gently tapping it down with the tongs until it was covered. She turned on the timer, watching it count down, and Conner blinked, surprised. Her face was pinched and drawn, and only then did it occur to Conner that perhaps he was being selfish. She was his best friend, his roommate, his partner…of course Tammy's life would change if his did. Especially with the addition of a child.

He should have been considering her feelings more from the beginning.

"Maybe you need to go about this another way," Tammy said, still not looking at him as she removed the photo from the tray and handed it to him.

Sending a quick glance in her direction, a furrow of confusion formed between Conner's eyebrows as he carefully hung up the photo on the line. "How so?"

"Your life will change once you have a child," she pointed out. "Perhaps…perhaps you should try and figure out what kind of woman could accept those changes."

It seemed a reasonable supposition. Obviously, if he had a child, he'd either A) have to move out of the duplex he shared with Tammy so he could raise the kid with the mother or B) have to find a woman who was willing to give up the child to him, in which case Tammy would have to deal with living next door to a baby. He'd have to cut back on his hours at work, which shouldn't be much of a problem, since he and Tammy had a small studio at home. Unless he ended up going with option A, in which case things would get more difficult. But, they owned their own business, so perhaps he could take the baby with him to work. They were making good money, and he'd already started a college fund for his not-yet-conceived offspring (not that he'd need it, once he had Lionel's money).

It would be easiest if he could find a surrogate mother willing to go along with option B. The only problem was that most surrogate mothers he'd contacted had, while being quite willing to carry his child, had wanted him to find another woman to donate the egg for it.

Surrogate mothering was a bit of a misleading title, as far as those things went. And time was running out for him; he had only a little over four years to get a woman pregnant, which really wasn't that long, in the grand scheme of things.

* * *

Conner spent the next week mulling over his options, and drawing up umpteen dozen lists trying to narrow down the particulars for what he needed in a possible mother for his child. The only problem – well, not a **problem**, per se – was that Conner couldn't think of a single woman he knew who would be able to accept the changes in his life.

Except the woman who was already in his life. Conner spent a good five minutes banging his head against the wall once he realized how dense he'd been. He'd been literally living in the same duplex as the woman who would be the perfect co-parent for his child. Their child.

But convincing Tammy that this was the right thing to do would be… Conner wasn't actually certain if it would be easy or difficult; he just knew that becoming parents together would change even more things than him becoming a single father, and Tammy being the kid's favorite aunt.

The thing was, is that it had never occurred to him that Tammy might one day not be in his life. They'd met in college, quickly become friends, and decided that since they both wanted to open a photography studio, they should go into business together. Getting the studio up and running had been costly those first few years, and so to save expenses, they'd decided to move in together until they were in the black.

They'd been very far in the black for years now, but the arrangement had worked so well that they'd never parted. And with neither of them having found someone else to share their life with, the point was moot, anyway.

Someone else…since they were already pretty much perfect for each other.

A lot of people had considered it odd that Conner's best friend was a woman. He had made friends with many women, of course, but had rarely ever been able to remain friends without the man-woman thing coming between them.

Now that his thoughts about a possible mother for his child and his best friend were intersecting, the man-woman thing was suddenly **there**, and extremely pressing.

Studying Tammy from across the room one Monday morning at work, Conner saw her, really saw her for what felt like the first time. Tamara Drake was a stunningly beautiful woman. He knew what she looked like – almost better than he knew what he himself did – but until that moment, he had never allowed himself to…appreciate her looks. The lush shape of her full lips, the fall of her long lashes against her rosy cheeks. The sweep of inky black hair that ended just above the nape of her neck, and her turned up freckled nose, giving her face a pixieish cuteness.

Her breasts were small and pert beneath the soft drape of her blue silk blouse. As a rush of cold December air followed a customer in the door, Conner could see her nipples peak up, and her cheeks flush, eyes alight with animation as she talked over a photo spread with Bernard.

She took his breath away with her subtle sexiness.

The hardest part of any relationship was living together, Conner knew. He and Tammy had already been doing that for coming up on five years. And if he was going to add a child to **their** routine anyway…

What better mother for it than the only woman he knew he'd never stop wanting by his side?

* * *

The next Wednesday, he finally got up the nerve to talk to Tammy. He had no idea how he was going to broach the subject between them, and he'd never been so nervous in his life.

He hadn't even been this nervous when he was contemplating marrying Cassie. And look at how **that** had turned out.

Conner pushed his food around on his plate all through dinner, but eventually Tammy was finished eating. Then he dawdled through washing off the dinner dishes, but finally they were all in the dishwasher, ready to be cleaned. There was only so long he could delay the upcoming conversation, and the time was coming to a close.

Tammy was wiping down a counter with a dish cloth, and Conner wiped his sweaty palms on another, before finally making himself broach the subject. "Hey, Tammy?"

"Mmm?" Tammy hung the dish cloth up before turning around. "Yeah?"

"I was, uh…I wanted to talk to you about the baby thing," Conner finally managed to spit out.

Hers eyes became hooded, and her lips pursed. "Okay," she agreed after a moment. "You want to take this into the living room?"

Conner nodded, and a few moments late they were both ensconced on the couch, Tammy with her now bare feet tucked up underneath her as she faced him. Conner still had no idea where to begin.

Luckily, Tammy seemed willing to take the troubles out of his hand. "So. Have you found someone?" she asked curtly, hands clenched with equal tenseness in her lap.

Nodding slowly, Conner said, "I think so. You…remember how you said I should ask someone I know?"

Tammy gave a small snort and relaxed minutely. "I vaguely recall something like that," she said, her tone more humorous than caustic.

Conner took a deep breath and expelled it, along with the words: "I want to ask you."

Tammy was so still, Conner felt for a moment as if he was staring at a statue. Before he could ask her what was wrong, Tammy had jumped to her feet, forgoing her shoes, and paced towards the window. She came to a halt inches from the parted curtains, and just stared out into the twilight.

Conner was flummoxed. " Tammy?" he asked, rising to his feet and following her. "I, I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd be offended."

Tammy flinched and seemed to curl up into herself, as if trying for a fetal position while still standing. "I'm not offended, Conner…not because of…that. I…" She laughed hoarsely. "I'm…actually kind of flattered that you would…" Biting down viciously on her lower lip, she halted any further words.

"You seem…upset." Tammy snorted, but Conner thought he heard a hint of tears in her voice. Looking at her reflection in the window confirmed it. Conner was more than confused; he almost felt guilty for putting that look on her face. He hadn't meant to hurt her! He didn't understand why she was so…sad.

"I suppose I am, in a way," Tammy replied vaguely.

"Want to tell me about it?" Conner asked, because if nothing else, living with a woman, this specific woman, for the past five years had taught him the value of asking questions other than 'Why?'

Tammy was silent for so long that Conner began to fear she was never going to answer him. But finally, she spoke. "Remember that time, a few years ago, when Greta tried to set me up on that date with her older brother Billy?" she asked apropos of nothing.

After she'd met and moved in with her new lover, their friend Cissie King-Jones, Greta Hayes had set her sights on matchmaking all her single friends and relatives. Setting Anita up with her husband Lobo Czarania was the only match that had worked out, and it had been the one no one had seen coming. Lobo had been Billy's probation officer, and by all accounts a real mean piece of work. But one meeting with Anita, and the stubborn Cajun social worker and part-time Tai Bo instructor had turned him into a pussy cat. "Yeah," Conner replied slowly, wondering why Tammy had brought that up. It seemed like the ultimate non-sequitur.

"You said that you didn't understand why I wasn't in a relationship, and I told you that I'd never really dated much," Tammy continued. "And you asked me why that was."

Conner nodded his head. He still wondered that, to be honest. Aside from a short-lived romance in high school with her good friend Bernard Dowd – who now worked taking care of the finances in their business – and the occasional 'just friends' date with their friend Bart before he'd met and married his wife Carol, Tammy had never gone out that much. Conner had never really understood why; she was smart, funny, pretty, nice, kind to children, animals and the elderly, and an all-around good person.

And with the recent alterations to his thinking, he could admit that she was drop-dead gorgeous. Were all the men in Metropolis blind, deaf, and dumb, or just stupid?

He'd once made the mistake of thinking that perhaps she was a lesbian, and offered to set her up with Cissie. Thankfully, Tammy hadn't taken offense, just laughed and cheerfully corrected his misconception. But she'd still been single for almost as long as Conner had known her, since they'd met in college in their Intro to Photography class.

"I told you maybe I just hadn't found the right guy, remember?" Tammy reminded him.

Conner nodded silently, sensing this was a serious moment. How or why, he didn't know.

"The thing was…" Tammy let out a little laugh, one devoid of humor. "I was lying. I **had** found the right guy. A…a long time ago." She turned to face him, eyes bright and pained.

It took a few seconds for Conner to piece it together, but… "Me?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Tammy nodded, eyes falling closed as she turned back to the window. A heavy silence settled over them, one she finally broke. "So when you ask me to be the mother of your child…well, you can understand why I am hesitant to decide one way or the other. Especially in light of…how you wish to go about it."

Meaning that the thought of having sex with the guy she was…in love with…for the sole purpose of getting pregnant so he could inherit…it hurt her, down deep to her heart. Even Conner, as oblivious as he could be, could see that.

"So it's your decision now, Conner," she said, turning back to face him with business-like brusqueness. But Conner had known her for ten years, and he knew her air of indifference was only a façade. He could see straight through her, and he knew how much she had to be hurting. "You know…how I feel. And now you need to decide if you can…accept those feelings."

Conner knew she meant that he needed to figure out if he could ever love her back, or else they'd both just be setting themselves up for future heartbreak.

"So take that into consideration when – if – you ask me again."

And with those final parting words, she was gone, leaving Conner alone in the empty, dark room with only his thoughts for company.

* * *

Considering that they lived in the same house and worked in the same building, it shouldn't have been so easy for Tammy and Conner to avoid each other. Yet somehow, they managed. They both enlisted the aid of their employee/friend Bernard, and found multiple reasons to go on location for shoots – on the opposite side of town from each other.

Business boomed at Drakent Studios, but their friendship was suffering.

Tammy felt like she was only waiting for the inevitable. Conner would decide to ask someone else to mother his child, and avoid ever mentioning her more-than-friendly feelings for him. He'd find a woman to give him his child, and he'd have his excuse to move out. A few years in the future, they'd be nothing more than friendly coworkers.

And she mourned for the loss of a relationship that had never had a chance to truly begin.

Conner, for his part, didn't know what to think. That his best friend was in his love with him, and he'd never noticed… he wasn't blind, deaf, or dumb, but he **was** apparently the stupidest man on the face of the Earth. He'd even spent the past week thinking how beautiful she was, but he'd been thinking about the physicalities, not the emotions.

It occurred to him on Thursday that Tamara must have been heartbroken every time he went out on a date. Hell, he'd remembered asking her to help him go to pick out a ring when he'd been contemplating marrying Cassie. How unwittingly cruel could he get?

But Tammy had never said anything. Not once. Only now…she had.

The one thing that Conner couldn't shake, however, was that his original reasons for asking Tammy to be the mother of his child were still sound. Even more now that he knew she wouldn't back off if things got tough; how much tougher could it get than dealing with unrequited love for almost a decade?

But if he wasn't one hundred percent sure that he could eventually fall in love with her, he didn't dare get her hopes up. He wouldn't risk his relationship with Tammy for any amount of money in the world. He couldn't hurt her like that.

And that gave him his answer.

* * *

That Friday Conner carefully made his preparations for the evening ahead. He hoped that his answer to Tammy's question would be the one she wanted, and that everything would fall into place from there, but considering the ups and downs that had been happening in his life lately, he knew better than to get too complacent.

Hope for the best, plan for the worst; one of the best, and most useful, pieces of advice his mother had ever given him.

That there always **was **hope was the only piece of useful advice his father ever had.

At a few minutes past ten in the evening, Conner was waiting quietly, if not patiently, in their living room. Tammy had been up late each night, drinking chamomile tea. He knew she had been suffering from insomnia – so was he, actually – but until he'd gotten his own head straight, he hadn't felt like he could try and help her without making things worse.

Now that he knew how he felt, he was determined to make up for everything that he could. Or spend the rest of his life trying.

He was looking forward to spending it with Tammy. If she'd have him.

Conner listened to the soft clinks as Tammy rinsed her teacup and placed it in the dishwasher. Then he heard the soft creaks of her feet on the kitchen floor, followed by the sound of her padding across the carpet towards him.

Halfway across the room, the moonlight slanting through the living room window brought her features into relief, and revealed his location to her. Upon spotting him, she jumped in surprised shock and let out a gasp. "Conner!" she said, pressing one hand against her no doubt pounding heart. "You startled me."

"Sorry; I didn't mean to," Conner apologized, inwardly cringing. Already he was compounding his mistakes.

Tammy shook her head from side to side. "It's okay," she dismissed.

But her voice was subdued, and she was looking anywhere but at him. "I…I should get to bed," she said, flicking her eyes for a moment towards his. "It's late."

"Don't go," Conner said softly reaching out. "Stay…with me."

Somehow, the distance between them had shortened to the point where they were mere inches apart.

Hope warred with fear in her eyes as she asked, "Conner…?"

It was now or never – and never wasn't an option. "I choose you," he said. "Over any amount of money. You would make me the happiest man on Earth if you would be willing to spend the rest of your life with me. And…I would be honored if you'd consent to be the mother of my child."

Tammy gave a few little gasping breaths before she finally said, stumbling a bit over the words, "I would be h-honored to accept."

Her smile was absolutely radiant, but Conner still couldn't keep himself from kissing it off her face. Her lips felt even better than they looked.

Tamara moaned softly and wrapped her arms around his neck as he swept her off her feet and carried her to his – soon to be their, if he had any say in the matter – bedroom. After setting her gently on top of the rumpled covers, Conner kissed her again and again until they were both breathless and feverish and tugging at each other's scant clothing with mindless fingers.

* * *

That one long, never-ending night was filled with whispered words of love and stifled screams of lust. He kissed her all over, and she shivered and moaned for him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped her legs around him. He gave her everything he knew how to give, and even some things he never knew he was capable of, and she gave it right back with blissful abandon.

He told her that he loved her, and he'd never meant it more. She murmured it back to him, with a joyful light in her eyes that he hoped he'd see every day for the rest of his life.

He held her in his arms in the afterglow, and she melted around him, the two of them fitting together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that had finally found where they belonged.

They got married that Saturday, in a small, quiet ceremony with family and close friends. Tamara's cousin Richard gave her away, and their friend Anita, who, in addition to being a Voduon Priestess, was also an ordained minister of the only Shinto-Christian temple in New York, performed the wedding.

They took a two-week honeymoon in Hawaii, and only managed to get out on the beach and enjoy the ocean the last few days after they exhausted themselves the first week.

It wasn't quite eight months later that Tammy went into labor. But then, multiplies generally were born early.

* * *

_Tamara__ Elizabeth Kent and Conner Elliot Kent  
__are pleased to announce the birth of their children… _

_Name: Timothy Drake Kent  
__Sex: M  
__Born: September 7th, 2007, at 4:30 P.M.  
__Metropolis General__ Hospital  
__3 lbs. 7 oz., 11.5 inches _

_Name: Robin Luthor Kent  
__Sex: M  
__Born: September 7th, 2007, at 4:37 P.M.  
__Metropolis General__ Hospital  
__4 lbs. 2 oz., 11.9 inches _

_Name: Lillian Lena Kent  
__Sex: F  
__Born: September 7th, 2007, at 4:44 P.M.  
__Metropolis General__ Hospital  
__3 lbs. 9 oz., 11.7 inches _

_

* * *

_

THE END


End file.

DC Elseworlds, Drama, Romance