Harvey bore the burden of Rachel's secret with a heavy heart. He felt alone; there was literally no one he could talk to about the shame and disgust he felt regarding the unborn child's paternity. In time, he resorted to calling Bruce Wayne, finally ready to take him up on his offer of an evening of hard drinking. The two men hit the town, and after a few straight shots of vodka, Harvey abruptly confided Rachel's condition to his friend.

"Rachel's pregnant, Bruce," he announced flatly.

Bruce's jaw dropped, but he rallied quickly and put on a congratulatory smile. As a long-time businessman, he knew how to fake correct responses to all kinds of bizarre news.

"That's wonderful, Harvey! Way to go, old man! Why, I had no idea you guys were planning a family!" He clapped his friend on the back in an "atta boy!" gesture.

"Yeah, well, me neither." Harvey responded bitterly.

Bruce saw despair in Harvey's eyes and wondered why. Clearly, this event had not been penciled in on Harvey's day planner.

"Oh…I see. Came as a surprise, huh?" he asked gently.

Harvey slammed another shot down his throat and wiped his mouth angrily.

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Aw, come on, Harvey—I'm sure she didn't plan for this to happen."

"No—she didn't plan it at all…"

"What do you mean?"

Harvey was just drunk enough to say a little too much.

"The Joker…." He hissed the word.

Bruce felt a jolt in his belly as he thought of the disturbing, demented creature he had finally come face to face with at the gang shoot out. The thought of Rachel being abused by that monster, of his hands on her…of her being impregnated by him…made him want to hunt him down and…Bruce took a deep breath, and clasped Harvey's shoulder tightly.

"My God, Harvey, I'm so sorry…"

"I want to kill that bastard…"

"I know…I feel the same way…Jeeze, how is Rachel handling this?"

"She's…ok. I tried to talk her into having an abortion, but she wouldn't hear of it. Says it was meant to be, and she won't get rid of it. I swear, Bruce, she's…delusional."

The pair sat drinking for a good long time, each man consumed with his own thoughts of hate, regret, and bewilderment.

***

The Joker huddled, his skinny body chilled, on the concrete floor of an empty office building-in-progress. It was one of the random places he was taking refuge in these days. He barely noticed his own discomfort; he was engrossed in reflecting on his meeting with the Batman, and what that meant for the future.

It had gone better than he had hoped; he'd been able to size up the emerging folk hero of Gotham, both literally and figuratively, and he now knew what he was up against. Batman was a big damn guy, not one the Joker would be likely to best in a fistfight. But, he'd gained a delightful bit of insight; he thought it very interesting that Batman's main concern had been for Rachel rather than the gun battle that had left carnage all around them.

Damn, Rachel, how many men do you have to keep on a string? Me and Harvey not enough for ya?

He shook his head and chuckled in satisfied amusement, once again envisioning the pathetic scene of Rachel telling Harvey about the kid she had on the way; but suddenly, a catch of sorrow punched him in the stomach.

Rachel…oh, yeah.

He knew her little plan. She hoped that he'd get sucked into this pregnancy thing, and decide to turn himself in, or check himself in…start taking all those drugs and doing fucking "therapy" in hopes of being able to be involved in the kid's life. Well, ha ha ha, sweetheart, no thanks. He'd warned her—she was on her own. But still…he tried to shake off the momentary stir of regret that ebbed over him. Stop it. Just stop it. Batman's going to get to know me better than that kid ever will.

He turned up the collar on his heavy overcoat and tried to suppress a shiver before shutting his eyes in hopes of catching a couple of hours of sleep.

***

Rachel was six months pregnant; her tall, slim frame carried the extra pounds gracefully. She didn't look pregnant at all from behind; when she turned around she appeared to have a smallish basketball stuffed under her shirt. Nevertheless, her feet and lower back hurt, and she was constantly starving.

She and Harvey had been going to counseling. At some point, Harvey had finally been able to overcome his feelings of anger and bitter resentment at the circumstances of Rachel's pregnancy, and he began to take some pleasure in Rachel's excitement and happiness. They even began to discuss finding a place together, one that would be large enough for a family of three.

The Joker had been keeping tabs on Rachel, but had chosen not to visit with her; it was too hard on both of them. Besides, now, he was a wanted man in a big way. The news regularly featured further escalations of the Joker's crimes; he was becoming bolder, and the payoffs had become larger.

Batman was eventually called in by Jim Gordon's office for a consultation. There never seemed to be enough warning for the cops to catch the guy in the act, and never enough evidence to track him down afterward. He was actively embarrassing the Gotham Police Department, and Jim had to admit they needed help. The Joker was pleased to hear from his sources that Batman was about to take a special interest in him.

But, watching from a distance as she walked into work one morning, the Joker felt a surge of curiosity about Rachel and the now obvious baby-bulge she was sporting, and decided to take a chance. That afternoon, she was in her office, deeply engrossed in a file on a domestic abuse case. When her door swung open behind her, she didn't bother to turn around.

"Just leave the affidavits on my desk, Cindy," she murmured. She was shocked and ready to scream when she felt a strong hand come from behind and cover her mouth.

"Hello, beautiful. You know, you're cute when you're knocked up."

The Joker waited until she realized it was him, then put his hands on her shoulders, trailing them firmly down over her full breasts and onto her round tummy.

"Jack! You scared me to death. What are you doing here, are you crazy?"

"I think we both know the answer to that…" he chuckled, his mouth next to her ear.

She struggled with her conscience; she knew she should scream for help, get the police to arrest the man who was a suspect in a dozen bank heists, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she grasped his hands and positioned them low on her belly in such a way that he could feel his child moving around inside her.

"Feel that? That's your baby, Jack." she said softly.

"Yeah…so, how is little Gender-As-Yet-To-Be-Determined? Everything all right?" he asked curiously. He liked feeling the little jabs and wiggles he could detect under Rachel's skin. He thought of the movie, "Alien", and grinned to himself.

She turned to look at him, about to speak, but instead almost cried out in surprise. The Joker looked rough. He was out of costume, no makeup, but his greasy hair was wiry and unkempt. He didn't smell great. She was distressed to see he was thinner than ever, pale, with deep circles under his too-brightly burning eyes. He smiled down at her, but there was no trace of his old good-humored smirk; he just looked tired and burned out. He knelt in front of her, searching her face for something.

"Yes, Jack, the baby's fine. We're all fine." she finally said pointedly. She needed him to know that she and Harvey were together. That was his answer; he nodded, understanding.

"That's good. So…Harvey's ok with this?" he asked, laying his hand on her tummy again.

"It took a while. But…yeah, we're doing ok," she assured him. "You, however, look like shit."

Her words barely penetrated his consciousness. She persisted, "Do you ever eat? When's the last time you took a shower? Jack, what's happening to you?"

A noise in the hallway caused Jack to rise instantly to his feet and assume a cat-like pose of readiness; he looked warily toward the door. When nothing further happened, he resumed his crouch, keeping his hand on Rachel's tummy.

"I'm just a little…distracted, these days, sweetie. Don't worry, things are shaping up nicely…I just…wanted to check on the kid. Make sure Harvey's not planning to drown it or something…."

"Jack…it's not too late to turn yourself in. You could get help…you could still be a part of this child's life…"

The Joker rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Aw, give it up, Rachel! Gosh, maybe they have a nice playground in the prison exercise yard! Or maybe we could bond over story time at Arkham?" he taunted sarcastically.

"Would you rather your child grow up thinking his father was nothing more than an insane criminal who died in prison—or an asylum? Or a good man who tried to do the right thing?"

"Listen, this kid comes from a long line of fuck-ups. He might as well get used to that…and you too, babe. Forget college, I'd start an interest-bearing bail bond fund right now, if I were you."

"No, Jack…please listen…"

He shook his head stubbornly, stood up and leaned to briefly kiss her on the mouth. He patted her tummy with genuine affection, and, stepping away from her, slipped silently out of her office. By the time she struggled to her feet and reached the door, he had disappeared.

***

Rachel was asleep in her and Harvey's bed during the wee morning hours when a sudden gush of water flooded out of Rachel, soaking her clothes and the bed sheets as well. She sat up, suddenly wide awake; a thrill of excitement ran through her. She gave Harvey a sharp whack on the shoulder.

"Harvey, wake up! My water broke! The baby's coming!!"

Harvey groggily roused himself. "Whaaa? Wait…what? Oh! Ok, ok, let's get moving…"

He called the hospital; Rachel changed her clothes and got the overnight bag she had prepared ahead of time.

They excitedly headed to their car, and made the drive to Gotham General in an inadvisedly short period of time.

"You ok?" Harvey asked anxiously.

"Oh, Harvey, I'm so excited…I feel like it's Christmas morning and I'm going to see what Santa brought me…" Rachel giggled nervously, just as her first contraction stabbed her in her lower back.

They arrived at the hospital, and Rachel was trundled off to a birthing room in a wheel chair, while Harvey nervously followed behind. The doctor checked on her; time passed, sometimes slowly, sometimes in a flurry of activity. Various monitors were attached to Rachel and the baby; nurses came in and out, checking her progress.

Twelve hours later, Jacob Robert Dawes was born, healthy and beautiful. Rachel wept when they placed the squirming little bundle in her arms; Harvey was right next to her, amazed at the tiny hands and feet, and at the hearty cries that such a small thing was able to produce. He impatiently pushed aside the typical "dad" thoughts of who the child might look like as being too disturbing.

The following day, on his way out of the hospital, Harvey passed the large glass window that allowed dads and visitors to view the newborn babies; a slim young man wearing a baseball cap, dirty work shirt, and a surgical mask was standing there with his arms crossed, peering into the nursery.

Harvey nodded at him; "Have a new little one yourself?"

"Yeah; you?"

"That one, right there," Harvey pointed at a baby in the front row. A blue ID card was taped to the bassinet with "Jacob Dawes" written on it.

"He's a beauty, congratulations," the young man said. He tipped his cap at Harvey and strode away. Harvey left to check on things at the office; the Joker headed for Rachel's room.

She was dozing. When she felt a familiar hand tightly cover her mouth, she startled awake; once she made certain that it was Jack under the cap, she relaxed and sighed, pleased.

"Did you see him?"

"Yeah…"

"He's perfect."

"He looked like a baby, all right." Jack said with a sardonic smile. "Are you ok?"

"I'm great. You want me to get them to bring him in here?"

Jack looked uncomfortable. "That's probably not a good idea." He pulled the baseball cap off and nervously ran his hand through his long, green-tinted blonde hair.

"It'll be all right; Harvey left for the afternoon. I'll just tell the nurses you're a relative. You can put that mask and cap back on and they'll never think twice about it."

"Well…ok," he said doubtfully.

Rachel called the nurse and arranged to have little Jacob brought to the room. In a few minutes, a nurse arrived, rolling the baby along in a clear bassinette on wheels. Rachel introduced Jack, saying he had been ill and that was why he was wearing the mask.

"Here you go!" the nurse said cheerfully. She scooped the baby up and put him in Rachel's arms, then turned and left. Jacob Robert made little cooing noises.

Rachel cuddled their son and looked at Jack; he was frowning and had sucked in his lower lip worriedly.

"You want to hold him?" she asked teasingly.

He shook his head.

"Come on, Jack, you're a big, tough criminal. You're not really scared of a tiny baby, are you?" she asked tauntingly.

"Terrified." he answered seriously.

"It's ok." she said soothingly. "Take him."

She sat up in the hospital bed and handed the bundle to Jack; he reluctantly and awkwardly took the child and peered at his tiny face.

"Looks like Harvey." he said critically.

"Oh, he does not!"

A mischievous grin spread across Jack's face. He looked back at his son. "No, actually…he looks like my mother." he said quietly, his smile subsiding.

Rachel smiled at him. "And who do you look like, Jack?" He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "Like her. Well, I used to…" he admitted.

Jack sat down and somehow managed to support the child's head and upper body in one hand, with the rest of the child lying comfortably on his forearm, using his lap as a safety zone. He quizzically examined the wee hands and smiled when the baby clasped his finger tightly. "He's strong, huh?" he asked. Rachel thought she detected a bit of pride in his voice.

"I think he likes you—he screams every time Harvey holds him," she commented.

Jack rolled his eyes and gave her an "Oh, sure" look, but he didn't dispute her statement.

Then he said, "Jacob Robert. That's nice—how'd you come up with that?"

"Robert is for my father, and Jacob…well, I figured he'd be called Jake. It was as close as I could come to naming him after you without Harvey blowing a gasket." She grinned ruefully at him, and he broke into appreciative laughter.

The two of them watched the tiny baby's face as he settled into sleep. The Joker carefully brought his son up to his shoulder, pressing his lips against the soft skin of the child's chubby cheek. Rachel watched the Joker's face intently as he closed his eyes, taking in the calm and peace of holding a sleeping newborn baby, but suddenly his eyes shot open as he again seemed to become acutely aware of his surroundings, and she could tell he was feeling antsy.

"Here, you better take him. I need to get out of here," he said abruptly. He handed Jacob back to her, planted a kiss on her forehead, and headed to the door. He turned at the last moment and took a long look at his son in Rachel's arms and smiled a little brokenly.

"I don't know when I'll see you again, angel. But…I'll be thinking about you. Both of you." With that he made his exit, and Rachel cuddled her newborn, wishing things were different—for both of them.