Meanwhile, back in the living room, Bruce was carefully acting natural. Or rather, acting like Bruce Wayne, which was close enough in current circumstances. A gust of wind out of nowhere. That usually meant a Flash, and the fact that this was still going on likely meant it wasn't one of the sensible ones. Well, sensible might be overstating it. One of the more experienced ones.
If it was one of Wally's kids, they were going to have a talk. Again.
He looked around the room, noticing the tense faces. The waiting had everyone on edge, even Deadshot had left his treasured television and gone upstairs. And a distraction would be a good idea around now.
"Harley?" Bruce called—they were one a first name basis at that point. "I couldn't help but notice, everyone seems to be so tense. Could we prevail upon you to lighten the mood?"
This was either going to turn out to be a great idea or a terrible one. Probably some of both.