When you and Jim were kids, you made a stupid little pact. A marriage pact, to be precise. You'd vowed to each other that if you were (somehow) both single at fifty, you'd marry each other. And now, you're both in your fifties and single. Jim was married but he got divorced a few years back, once again making him an eligible bachelor.

The two of you meet up at a café run by an old couple who, at this point, you're pretty sure are immortal or something because they have not aged a day since you and Jim first stumbled into this place as kids. You wouldn't be surprised if you're right. Gotham's a weird place.

"So I've been thinking a lot lately," Jim says, sitting down across from you as he hands you a drink. "And I've recently remembered that old marriage pact we made when we were kids. I think we should do it, y'know. Get married. The tax benefits would be nice."