Disclaimer: Aw, c'mon, I'm not even sure I want it yet!

A/N: A new fandom. Wow.

(You can all blame The BlueFoxtrot A Samba for this, by the way. It's her fault for telling me this show even existed.)

Gotham is a lady, tall and dark and sultry. She wears her shadows like a ball gown, and her lights like a mask. She's beautiful, and enticing, captivating in her way. She's mysterious and dangerous and intriguing and horrible and wonderful and she's got Batman wrapped around her little finger.

Gotham is a teenaged boy, all sharp angles and soft features slowly hardening into manhood. His dark hair and blue eyes hide behind a mask, small, lithe body turning flips and swinging above the rooftops, cape flying behind him. He's tough, light enough to purify, and dark enough to survive. He is Gotham, dark and light and pure and strange and laughing at things that aren't funny in places where laughter has no home. He's young and happy and loving and content and devious and wonderful and ever since he was nine he's had Batman wrapped around his little finger.

Central City is a little girl, short and bright and happy. She dresses in blue jean jumpers and bright yellow shirts and her hair is always in pigtails. She's adorable, and precocious, and just a wee bit spazzy. She's not shy at all, and she has no problem making friends. She's giggly and smiley and carefree and mischievous and only one person in his whole life has the Flash ever had more fun babysitting.

Central City is a boy with red hair and green eyes and freckles. He eats constantly and laughs almost as much, and his smiles can light up the whole world. He's fast and strong and so in love with life that just being near him can change the way the universe works. He flirts and he smiles and his love of girls is outweighed only by his loyalty to his friends, his family, his city. He's brilliant and sweet and lovable and outrageous and amazing and in his whole life, the Flash has never had so much fun babysitting.

Star City is a teenaged girl, scornful of anything and everything she deems too juvenile for her attention. She's rebellious in her tastes, her sense of style rejecting both old ways and new, in an attempt to be completely and totally her own. She's a little bit dark, a little bit light, and a whole lot of gray. But even as she's capricious and troublesome and annoying, she is steadfast and loyal and beautiful and brilliant and it feels like home to Green Arrow as he settles in her rooftops.

Star City is a young man, toeing the edge of adulthood with precision and malice aforethought. He's disdainful of the world in general and authority in particular, but he's growing out of that quickly, and one of these days might even crack a smile. He's brave and strong, intelligent and determined and stubborn. He's a good friend to have, no matter how he denies that he has friends at all, and in spite of himself, he loves every one of them. He's impulsive and angry and difficult and harsh and sad and defiant and eager to please and adorable and loved and when Green Arrow tells Black Canary he wants them to adopt the little archer she says yes in a heartbeat and they bring him home.

Atlantis is a queen, or at least she carries herself like one and if she isn't truly royalty, you'd be hard pressed to find a citizen who will admit to it. She's compelling and invigorating, surrounded by her sea-folk and beloved by all who are privileged to behold her. She's a virtual paradise, compared to her sister cities in the world above, but her own problems are not insignificant, when they do rear their heads. She too has a dark side. She's beautiful and majestic and strong and wise and Aquaman hates to leave her like he hates to leave his own wife.

Atlantis is a young lad, though you wouldn't know it to look at him, for he bears a weight and responsibility and it shows. He's tall and graceful, proud in his own way, but humble enough to know when he's bested. He's a leader, a warrior, a protector, and a hero. His dutiful nature and obedient attitude don't mean that he simply follows mindlessly the examples set before him. He makes his own way, as do the ones he leads. He is brave and strong and twisted and conflicted and sure and light and dark and Aquaman hates leaving him because he never quite knows what trouble they'll get him into next.

Metropolis is a businesslike, no nonsense kind of gal. She doesn't take flak and she gets the job done. She's brisk, even though she's warm enough to her sisters and she enjoys a good night out just like anyone. Her wild side is less wild and more cutthroat and while her villains may not wear masks, the ones in suits are just as bad. She's open and cheery and perky and complacent and safe and dangerous and Superman knows exactly how to handle her.

Metropolis is a child in the body of a teenaged male, and he knows a whole lot of useless information but nothing at all about life. He's learning as fast as he possibly can and struggling to control anything and everything he sets his mind to. The notion of consequences is hard for him to grasp, and he's more at home with the animal kingdom than he is with humanity. He's good-hearted and handsome and pure and innocent and young and old and alien and familiar and Superman has no idea what he's doing.

(Central scowls. Star facepalms. Atlantis contemplates. Metropolis broods. Gotham plots.)

It's an odd thing, to watch Robin's head turn exactly at the same time as Batman's, as though both somehow heard a call that nobody else could detect. They seek out each other's eyes in order to determine and deliver orders. That's the most anyone can think before a sweep of black and a streak of red dart for the zeta beams.

Gotham is wailing, and her knights respond.

It's always been difficult, for most of the Justice League, to really understand the Flash and Kid Flash. Their method of handling crime is unorthodox to say the least. But then, the crime they fight and the villains they battle are more alike to children playing at mischief than true evil. When the call comes in, they roll their eyes together and race each other to the exit.

Central is pouting, and her caretakers placate.

No one sees it happen, because Speedy –sorry, Red Arrowis no longer Green Arrow's sidekick, and thus doesn't come around much. But a sidekick isn't the same as a partner, and the Arrows are family –in spite of themselves, sometimes. They run into each other as Green is heading into and Red is coming out of the tubes.

Star is demanding, and her servants deliver.

Later, neither could say how they knew or why they acted as they did, but nobody questions them anyway as Aqualad and Aquaman dive simultaneously for the transporting beams that send them straight home, thousands of miles beneath the sea.

Atlantis is beckoning, and her retainers come.

Superboy is on a field trip and Superman is at his day job, but super-ears are super-ears and a scream is a scream is a job for you-know-who and the next thing they know, awkward team-ups are awkward team-ups are excuses for a bonding session or two.

Metropolis is smirking, and her heroes are oblivious.

(Central and Star fist bump. Atlantis beams. Gotham looks smug.)

A/N: I'm a Marvel girl, people. Until a few weeks ago, I didn't even know I liked these guys. And then I kinda found out I like the Batfam, and the Flashes, and the Arrows, and suddenly there's Young Justice and "holy cow, I LOVE this show!" And then there was YJ Anon Meme and a prompt about the cities…

This is not an answer to that prompt, by the way. I just wrote it.

No MM or Artemis, unfortunately. It's just… they don't have their own cities. *sheepish shrug* I did try to put them in, but it sounded off, so I took it out.

So yeah. I'm hooked.