"Robin! What happened to the remote?" Batman dug in between the seat cushions, feeling for the familiar slab of plastic.

"Right here, Padre!" Robin's grinning face appeared over the seat, the remote in hand.

Batman took it. "Thanks, kid."

Robin bounded up and over into the chair next to Batman, squeaking the leathery cushions. "Oh man, I can't wait, Batdad! I love this movie so much! It's one of my favorites!"

"Yeah." Batman relaxed against his seat. "Mine too."

Robin leapt off his seat and dashed for the kitchen. "I'll go help Miss Gordon with the ice cream!"

Batman chuckled a little, then started setting up the input and the main menu. The addition of ice cream for movie night had been Robin's idea, but Barbara had strongly advocated for it, too. Seriously, there was nothing like coming home to watch a rom-com after an epic night of butt-kicking. They worked hard, they fought hard, and they saved the city again.

Of course, it wasn't like tonight's fight had been much of a challenge. Joker seemed out of sorts, a bit more neurotic than usual. Wasn't at the top of his game for whatever reason. Not that it would mess up their movie night, though. They earned it, which made the occasion all the more satisfying.

Barbara entered, auburn ponytail flopped over one shoulder, with Robin close at her heels. Both carried bowls heaped high with ice cream and bottles of soda and water. As they arranged the refreshments on the arm of each chair, Batman yelled towards the kitchen. "Alfred! Is the popcorn done yet?"

Alfred walked in a mere second after the inquiry. "Here you are, Master Bruce." He set one bowl between Batman and Robin, the other next to Barbara. Alfred sat down next to her, sighing in satisfaction as he laid back and stretched his legs across the cushion.

"Great!" Batman did a quick double-check, glancing around him to make sure everything was in place: family-friends, popcorn, soda, ice cream sundaes. "Are we all set?"

Barbara nodded and twisted the cap off her water bottle. "I believe we are."

"Start the movie, start the movie!" Robin urged, bouncing in his seat.

Batman smirked. "Alright, let's get this party started." He jabbed the 'Play' button on the remote.

It was just at that moment when the gongish-doorbell of the Wayne Manor rang.

Batman sat straight up and glared out the doorframe in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Now? Right as we're starting a movie?!" He groaned as he paused the film, sinking back in his seat. "Alfred, would you mind getting that?"

Alfred, who already looked like he was ready to fall asleep, grunted as he leaned forward. "Right away, Master Bruce."

Barbara, however, frowned and put her hand on the butler's shoulder. "Hang on, Alfred." Turning to the Caped Crusader, she said, "Hey, Batman, Alfred's been on his feet all day, why don't you give him a break and go get the door yourself?"

"But getting the door is part of his job description!" he protested.

Barbara lowered her eyebrows. "Batman..."

Batman groaned again, then threw the remote down. "Fine! I'll do it." He stood and stalked out of the movie room, muttering under his breath about ding-dongs and movie-ruiners.

"Hmm..." Barbara watched him as he left. Despite her frown, the corner of her lip inched a tad upward. "Still need to work on manners with that boy."

"Indubitably," Alfred agreed, lightly smirking with her.

Batman continued his muttering all the way to the door, his complaints escalating in volume the more the doorbell rang. Okay, seriously, did they even need to ring it more than once? He heard them the first time! It better not be some sort of salesperson or something like that. He had enough cool stuff already, he didn't need anything else. Especially not during movie night. Who shows up on your doorstep at night, anyway?

Well, technically, it was six in the morning, but calling it movie night was way cooler than calling it movie morning, in Batman's opinion.

"For crying out loud, I'm coming!" He stomped up to the fancy, molded double-doors and jerked at the locks. "Who do you think you are, interrupting Batfamily Rom-Com Night?! We worked hard for this, you know! This better be important," he threw the doors wide open, squinting at the morning sunlight, "otherwise I'm gonna - Joker?!"

"Hey, Batsy!" Joker waved. "Rom-Com Night, huh?"

Batman flung a batarang so hard it whacked his arch-nemesis off the threshhold and sent him tumbling down the long flight of stairs. Batman raced after him, grabbing two more batarangs from his robe's pockets and aiming them at the psychopath as soon as he fell flat on his face.

For a moment, Joker laid motionless on the pavement. He slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position. His complexion clenched into a grimace as he rubbed the red mark blossoming over his left cheekbone, and he shot a glare at the vigilante. "Sheesh, a friendly, 'Oh, hello Joker, what brings you here?' would have been nice."

"What are you doing here?" Batman demanded. "I beat you already, you should be off crying somehwere about that, not here trying to catch me off guard!"

Joker carefully stood to his feet, Batman keeping the batarangs trained on him as he did so. But Joker calmly put his hands up, a cool smile erasing away the former grimace. "Relax, Batsy. I'm not here to see you; I'm here to pay a friendly visit to good ol' Wayne Moneybags. He wouldn't happen to be home at the moment, would he?"

"Wayne Moneybags?" Batman cocked his head. "You mean Bruno? As in the brilliant billionaire Bruce Wayne?"

"Yep! So if you'll just let me get past-" Joker moved sideways away from the batarangs and forwarded, intending to climb up the stairs again.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on a second!" Batman's arm flung in front of the criminal, blocking his path. The other waved a batarang in Joker's face so that the tip nearly poked him in the nose. "You are an enigmatic criminal psychopath. Why would you of all people want to talk to him? Or more appropriately, why should you of all people get to talk to him?"

"Because," Joker sung, folding his hands behind his back, "I bet he really loves living here in his mansion. Would be such a shame if it happened to, you know, blow up or something." He shrugged, a tiny smile playing across his face. "But you know, that probably won't happen, if he talks to me, anyhow."

"Yeah, it won't happen," Batman spat, "because there are no explosives anywhere in this area."

"How do you know?" Joker challenged, voice light and taunting.

Batman grabbed the smartphone from his pocket and shoved the screen in Joker's face. "Because I have the latest threat-detection devices wired everywhere around this mansion and into my phone. If there were explosives, I'd know about them by now."

"What if they're untraceable?"

"Impossible. Wayne Enterprises has invented security systems that can detect any and all kinds of explosives, even the so-called untraceable ones. If there were any explosives right here, right now, I would be notified and the threat would be neutralized." He towered over him and jabbed him in the chest. "Watch your bluff, clown."

"Okay, so maybe there aren't explosives," Joker admitted, smile slipping into a half-frown. "But that doesn't mean I can't talk to him!"

"Why?"

"You're too paranoid, Batsy. You need to lighten up a little!" He pulled an affronted frown, clasping his hands in front of his stomach and blinking innocently. "Do you think I'm always up to no good? What if I came here just for advice?"

Batman narrowed his eyes. "What kind of advice?"

"Brucy's been the Most Eligible Bachelor for 90 years in a row now, right?"

"Pft. Everyone knows that."

"I figured that if he's been eligible for 90 years now, there must be a reason why." Joker laughed. "Keeps scaring all the ladies off for some reason!"

Batman pointed a batarang at the clown's face. "Hey! Don't you question his bachelor status! He just hasn't found the right woman yet! And what do you care if he's been single for 90 years?"

"Well, the thing is, I need some help. It's about Harley." Joker scuffed his foot into the ground, biting down on his lower lip. "She hasn't been acting like herself lately. I've been trying to figure out what's wrong with her, but she won't tell me anything, and the guys and other gals I'm forced to work with just to carry out a decent scheme are no help at all. But, I just happened to pick up a magazine the other day, and it just happened to mention that Wayne Moneybags was the ultimate ladies' man, so I thought that if anyone could help me figure out what's up with my girl-buddy, it'd be him!"

Whatever in Joker's mind made him think Bruce Wayne would willingly give him advice, let alone talk to him at all, Batman was unsure. But for now, this clown was interrupting Batfamily Movie Night, and he needed to leave pronto.

"I don't have any incentive for him," Joker went on, "but if you could just play along like the explosives were actually here..."

"Yeah, not gonna happen," Batman stated. "Bruno's gone, and he won't be back for weeks."

Joker blinked, as if he had not even considered that possibility. "What? What do you mean, 'gone'?"

"'Gone' as in absent, not present, not here, as in there was no point in you coming here or in staying here, so you should just go now."

Joker paused, then regained a hopeful smile. "What about you? You've had a few girlfriends over the years, and you do spend your free time watching movies about relationships. Maybe you could help me out!"

Batman crossed his arms. "No way."

"What? Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," Batman shrugged. "Isn't that obvious?"

Joker's jaw dropped, and then his eyebrows dipped into a 'v'. "Well, you have to!"

"Why?"

"Because!" He stamped his foot, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "It's just plain rude not to! I didn't come all this way here just to get the door slammed in my face, thank you very much! You have to help me!"

"If we were friends, maybe," Batman shrugged again. "But because you're my greatest enemy, I don't have to."

"Well..." Joker stopped, suddenly torn, and then half-shrugged in assent. "That's true, but-"

"But nothing," the vigilante cut him off. "Look, I'm really busy enjoying Batfamily Movie Night - trying to, anyway - so why don't you just go on home and think really hard as to how you can beat me next time? Last night was barely a challenge, bro. You seriously need to step up your game." Batman pivoted on his heels and ascended the stairs, shoving the batarangs into his pockets. He reentered his house, firmly pulling the doors shut behind him.

Except they wouldn't close all the way, for Joker had shoved a hand and foot between them.

"Batman, please!" He pulled hard on the mansion's doors, desperate to keep them open. "I don't know what else to do! No one will tell me anything!" His mouth had curved into a frantic frown, a stark contrast to his annoyance moments before. "Do you want me to grovel? I'll do it!"

Batman shuddered and kicked him off the threshhold. Joker rolled head-over-heels backwards, flopping onto his stomach just inches before the long flight of stairs. "No, I don't want you to grovel! I want you to go away!"

Joker lifted his head, and then meekly picked himself up. He started forward. "But Harley-"

"Whatever your problem is, you can figure it out yourself! Goodbye!" Batman slammed the door, conversation declared over. He exhaled sharply.

When he turned around, Robin was standing there, head cocked. "Who was that, Batdad?"

"Just Joker," Batman growled, waving the answer off as nothing.

Robin's eyes grew even larger with wonder. "The Joker? At our house?" He scrambled up to one of the windows by the doors and peeked between the red curtains. "Why? What did he want?"

"Some help in his sad romance," Batman scoffed.

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, Harley Quinn, the crazy chick with the big hammer. They're a thing."

Robin glanced at him. "Well, did you help him?"

"Pft, no. Why would I?"

"Because it's the kind thing to do, Padre!" Robin smiled.

Batman shrugged it off. "Ah, well. He'll figure it out, he'll get over it." He descended the red carpeted stairs to the dining room, motioning towards the home theater. "Come on, let's get back to watching the movie. You didn't start it without me, did you?"

Robin didn't answer right away. "Uh, Batdad?"

"What?"

"Joker's still here."

"What?" Batman spun around, an incredulous look on his face. "What do you mean he's still here? I just told him to go away!" He bolted back up the stairs. "Doesn't he know how to take a hint?"

"He looks pretty upset."

"What do you mean?" Batman looked out the window to see what his son was talking about.

Down below, near the gates of the manor, Joker was kicking the front left wheel of his purple hunk of junk he called his ride. A part came loose from the hood, which he proceeded to pick up and hurl across the manicured lawn. Stomping over to it, he kicked it a few more yards away, yelling and flinging his arms up and down as he did so. He returned to his car, forced the driver's door open, and flopped down in his seat, arms crossed and pointed tooth sticking out over the line of his mouth.

Batman laughed out loud. He shook his head. "That's great."

His arch-nemesis just sat there like that for a few moments. Soon he turned the keys and gripped the steering wheel, but remained fixed in that posture. His infuriated expression began to melt; the lower lip trembled, eyes got all teary. He sniffled and then lowered his forehead to the wheel. His shoulders shook up and down.

"Now it's just pathetic," Batman muttered.

Robin, however, gaped in pity. "Aw, Padre! We just can't leave him like that!"

"Why not?" Batman wondered. "He's Joker. You know, the person we spend our evenings beating up because he wants to turn Gotham City into his chaotic theme park?"

"He's a person, too, Batdad," Robin replied, looking at his father, "even though he's our greatest enemy."

Batman looked at his greatest enemy again. Despite his disgust, he couldn't help feeling a dull pang of guilty sympathy for the sad clown. But he could live with that. Joker had frequent outbursts, so he would soon get over this one... Probably...

What he couldn't live with, however, was ignoring the quizzical expression, the hidden expectation, Robin was giving him. This kid looked up to him. If he didn't man up and do what he really, really, really didn't want to do but knew was nevertheless the right thing to do...

Batman did the most exaggerated groan he could possibly manage, tossing back his head and slamming it against the window. "FINE! Fine! I'll go help him."

Robin smiled. "You're the best, Padre!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Batman muttered, moving to the doors to unlock them. "I'm so awesome, I can't help myself."

"Do you want me to come help?" Robin offered, trotting behind him.

Batman shook his head. "Nah, you go ahead and start watching the movie with Alfred and Babs, 'kay? I've seen it a thousand times already, anyway. I'll be back soon."

"Okay, Batdad!" Robin disappeared down the stairs and into one of the halls. Batman took a deep breath, bracing himself, then swung the doors open again and stepped outside. He groaned to himself as he forced his legs to walk towards the lowrider and its occupant, clenching and unclenching his claw hands to help him resist the urge to rap about how much he didn't want to do this.

That would make for a pretty dope track, though.