Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or DC.

Predicament: a difficult, unpleasant, or embarrassing situation.

Jack's need for chaos couldn't have come at a more horrible time. In a matter of weeks, a turf war had started between Cobblepot and Falcone.

Jeannie spent most nights worrying herself to death while Jack was out on jobs, her eyes glued to the TV, watching GCN to see if he was one of the latest shooting victims. There were at least two to three shoot outs a week between Falcone and Cobblepot's men. And when Jack didn't respond to her texts or calls, she'd become a mad woman, coming up with horrible scenarios as to what could have happened to her new husband.

But he'd always come home, sometimes a little worse for wear, but alive.

And because of the heightened stress level, Jeannie practically jumped Jack the second he hit the door, demanding sex. Crazy, sloppy, happy you're alive sex.

They did it in the entry way, the hallway, the couch-they provided the neighbors and passerby's an x-rated show more than once on the kitchen counter.

And Jeannie wasn't the only one stressed. The stress relief was much appreciated by Jack, as well.

On top of the turf war, Jack was planning a huge bank heist. And it wasn't just that the planning was stressing him out. It just made it that much harder to focus on his job, which was a tad more hazardous to his health than usual.

His plan was simple: hold up a bank. And not just any bank, but the very same bank both his boss and Falcone used to hide their dirty money. He knew at any given time there was at least twenty five million stored in the safe, and he had every intention of taking half, if not all of it. An impossible feat for some, but for Jack, it was child's play, so long as he had everything planned to a T.

Once the heist was complete, he and Jeannie would disappear into the night, changing their names and moving somewhere else until he felt like doing it all over again.

The very thought of completing the heist made him get goosebumps. A small giggle would escape his lips when he drew up plans; the high was ecstasy.

And as time went on, he became more and more obsessed.

Jack twisted his wedding ring around his finger as he studied his notes. It became a daily ritual; he'd walk downtown and wait for Jeannie at the Coffee Bean, conveniently placed across the street from the Bank of Gotham. He'd sit there for about an hour, watching the activity around the bank. He'd observe how many cops patrolled the area, which guards worked, what shifts they worked and if they were worth their salt in guarding the bank. And since he was there on a daily basis, waiting for his wife, who was newly employed as the new children's dance teacher at Ms. Shelly's Dance Studio just one block away from the Coffee Bean, he didn't raise any suspicions.

He looked down at the shiny, circular object around his finger. Admittedly, married life wasn't so bad. Jeannie was right, of course: being married made him feel so much closer to her, and knowing that she was his made him feel good. And though he wasn't sure if it was being married to her or recent developments in his work life, but he had become much more protective over her. He had forbade her going back to work for Falcone, which she was completely fine with. She really wasn't too hip to working at a strip club.

Jack encouraged her to try dancing again, and when she saw that there was a teaching position at the local dance studio, he urged her to take it; teaching children how to dance was much safer than serving drinks at a mob boss' strip joint. He wouldn't have to worry about her safety or some ass hitting on her. After convincing her that even though it paid significantly less than her bar tending job –he made double what she made in a day and at times double than she would in a week- she happily took it.

As for his heist, Jeannie wasn't too happy about it, but she knew better than to dissuade him from doing so. He had to point out that she knew what she was getting herself into when they first got together, so there was no need in wasting her breath trying to talk him out of it.

She begrudgingly let the subject go, and wouldn't broach the subject unless Jack brought it up. Which was fine by Jack. The less she knew the better.

"Hey!"

Jeannie's sugar sweet voice pulled Jack from his thoughts.

"Have a good day?" She asked, sitting down across from him. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and her cheeks were slightly flushed from her last dance class and the short walk to the coffee shop.

"Mmm." He grunted as he took her hand and kissed it. "I did. And you? Have fun teaching the little rug rats how to dance today?"

His wife smiled lovingly at him at the mention of her class. "I did. They are so adorable, and easy to impress." She giggled.

He shook his head at her and looked over to the bank through the window. The guards shift was over, and he needed to note who was taking over. Jeannie took her cue and kept quiet as he scribbled in his note book.

"I have to work tonight." Jack announced after he finished writing down his observation and chuckled at Jeannie's pouty face. "But, I figure I'll have you come with me."

His wife looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Jack-" She shook her head. "I don't-"

"I'm not going to take you to a back alley, Sugar." He chuckled. "My mark is at an art gallery…. Some sort of artsy fartsy art show. I've been tracking this guy for months now, and he's been ducking me each time I try to make contact."

"How much does he owe?" She asked, lowering her voice so the patrons of the coffee shop didn't hear.

"Forty five grand. He's a wannabe big shot. He was supposed to pay Cobblepot back four months ago, and seems to think he's something special. I figure if I corner him at this hoity toity function, he'll pay up without a fight."

Jeannie nodded, agreeing.

"I figure I can take you, since I don't see things getting crazy. Plus it'll give you a reason to dress up and show off that rock on your finger." He grinned at her.

Jack wasted no time in finding his wayward client. He had spotted him almost the moment they stepped foot into the art gallery.

"Will you be alright for a few moments while I go to work?"

Jeannie nodded. "I think I'll survive."

"I'll be right back, Sugar." He kissed her on the top of her head and slipped into the crowd of yuppies, tailing the clueless man until he was right behind him.

"Hello, hello, Logannnnn."

Jack grinned wickedly when Logan tensed visibly and his hand that gripped his champaign flute started to shake.

With wide eyes, Logan slowly turned to face Jack. "J-Jack!" He whispered. "How did you get in?"

Jack's grin grew as he dug his hands into his pants, his left hand gripping his pocket knife that Jeannie had gotten him for Christmas. After all, it was if favorite one, and the ironic letters made it all the more funnier when he caused bodily harm with it.

"Whatever do you mean?" Jack responded in mock offence, bringing his hand up to his chest. "Are you saying I'm not worthy to be at this establishment? Amongst the over privileged and equally over paid assholes of Gotham?"

Logan shook his head. "No…No! I just… I just wasn't expecting you!" His eyes shifted left and right to make sure nobody was approaching him. "What brings you to the art show?"

Jack brought his right hand out of his pants pocket and clapped him on the back, causing Logan to spill some of his drink. "Oh, Logan, Logan, Logan." He shook his head. "I think you know EXAAAAACTLY why I'm here."

"You don't expect me to pay that amount back?"

Jack's grin slowly dissipated and the ever famous look of calmness before the storm took its place. His left arm slowly snaked its way around his shoulders. To a passerby, it looked like two old buddies involved in a private conversation. "Look here, Logan. I don't know who you tttthink you are, or why you think you are above my employer, but I'm going to tell you how it's going to go for you tonight. You ready?"

Logan merely looked up at him, unable to wriggle out of Jack's strong grasp. "I don't just carry around forty five grand around in my wallet."

Jack pursed his lips and nodded his head. "Yes, I know this. You now have four hours to come up with the money, and will meet me here." He shoved a card into Logan's hand with a location of Jack's choosing. "If you skip out on me again, you will regret it. Trrrrust me."

"Fuck you, Jack. You can't push me around. I'll go to the cops before I let a thug like you threaten me. Your boss can wait for payment." He hissed.

Jack flicked his left hand and pressed his blade up against his throat, discreetly turning Logan around so they were facing a painting. "Firstly, I don't think so. We own the cops. Secondly, you borrowed money from Oswald Cobblepot. You will pay it back. Otherwise, you reap what you sow." He flicked the knife closed and let go of him. "Four hours, Logan." He patted him on the back. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a date with a pretty lady."

Jeannie felt oddly at ease while shuffling through the art gallery. She had been forced to go to these sorts of things when she was little, and even though she really didn't appreciate the art when she was younger, she surely did now. Her feelings toward most upper class didn't change, though. They all reminded her of her parents: how materialistic they were and how holier than thou they acted to those who didn't share the same tax bracket.

It felt good to be out on the town with Jack, even though he was working. It was rare nowadays to go out on a date with her husband, and even though going to an art show wasn't exactly her idea of a date for the two, she wasn't about to say no.

She made her way to the photography section and scoffed to herself when she read both the price tags and the titles on each portrait. $15,000 for a blurry picture of a leaf? Who would buy such a thing?

"Oh darling! I must have it! It would go wonderfully in the newly renovated study!"

The voice of the woman made the hair on the back of Jeannie's neck stand on end. It was the sound of a hundred fingers on a chalkboard, it was shrill and oh-so familiar.

She didn't make any sudden movements, not wanting to draw attention to herself, so she stood there contemplating her next move so not to give her position away… but luck was not on her side at the moment.

"Jeannette."

She considered running the other direction, or ignor the people behind her, but she knew it would be no use. She was unable to leave without Jack, and if she chose to ignore them, she'd probably just keep running into them while waiting for Jack to finish.

She squared her shoulders and turned around to face both her mother and her father.

Her mother had her signature catty smile and judgy left eyebrow hiked up to her hair line directed at her daughter and her father was glaring disapprovingly at his wife for even acknowledging Jeannie in the first place.

"Hello." She gritted.

Jeannie's mother sipped on her red wine and cocked her head to the side. "What brings you to this event? Are you waitressing?"

"No. I am not waitressing." She was running out of patience already, she knew where this was heading.

"Then why are you here?"

Jeannie took a deep breath. She didn't think making a scene would be the best idea, especially when Jack was trying to track down a mark. It probably wouldn't help him any if the woman he came in with started screaming obscenities at fellow art goers.

"I'm here looking at art." She said dryly, waving her hand at the art hanging on the walls.

Her mother's eyes grew large and caught Jeannie's hand and yanked her toward her. "What in the world is this?" She brought her ring finger up to her face to get a better look at Jeannie's wedding ring. "How many karats is this?"

Her father too was shocked to see the rock on her hand and looked at her in disbelief.

"It's a ring. And it's three karats." She yanked her hand back and balled her hand up so to hide her wedding ring.

"That looks like a wedding ring, Jeannette. Did you get married?"

She hesitated and slowly looked down at the large diamond that glittered in the light of the gallery. She could blow her parents off, or she could go into detail about she and Jacks wedding…
She chose the ladder, just to get under their skin.

"Why, yes I did." She said, smiling. She shoved her hand in their direction and giggled inwardly at the fact that her ring was much bigger than her mother's and more elegant looking at that. "The wedding was amazing, too!"

Her father adjusted his wire rimmed glasses and looked at his daughter with a disapproving look. "I'm sure it was. Who did you marry?"

Jeannie dug her phone out of her clutch. "You both have met him." She scrolled through her pictures until she landed on the one she was looking for. "His name is Jack." She handed her phone to her mother and smiled bigger as she watched both their reactions go from snooty, fake politeness to total disapproval and disgust.

Apparently they didn't approve of she and Jack's Vegas wedding. The picture was the epitome of Vegas weddings. She was dressed in a white, tea length wedding dress with bright green high heels, her hair pinned up in victory rolls and her makeup done professionally to look just like she came from the 1940's. She looked like she was a pinup model. Jack fit the part too, decked out in an authentic zoot suit, complete with a matching hat and what he called a pimp cane. And to top it off, they were married by Elvis.

"You were married in Vegas?" Her mother said, repulsed, giving back Jeannie's phone, pinching it like it was a stinky sock.

"Yes! It was so romantic." She said dramatically.

"That it was, Sugar."

The three turned to find Jack, smirking at Jeannie. He lumbered to his wife and engulfed her in his arms.

"Mmm, yes. I remember you." Her mother sneered. "Tell me, Jack. Are you still unemployed?"

Jeannie tensed at her deliberate question, and was about to reply, but Jack beat her to the punch.

"Now, now, Mom, no need to be nasty." He grinned at her. "Don't you worry about Jeannie, I'll make sure she's well taken care of." He turned to Jeannie's father. "Long time no see, pops."

Jeannie's father shuttered and took a small step back.

"Hey, did you all hear what happened to Ryan?" Jack asked in mock astonishment, keeping his gaze on Jeannie's father.

He paled at Jack's question. "Come darling." He clutched onto his wife and steered her away from Jeannie and Jack, but was halted by his wife.

"Yes. It's a pity. I just hope our law enforcement will be able to find who murdered him."

Jeannie rolled her eyes.

Jack smirked and nonchalantly pointed to his eye, the meaning not escaping Jeannie's father.

"I'm disappointed that you didn't show up to his funeral. You should have at least showed up to pay your respects, Jeanette. People were asking where you were."

"It's a shame," Jeannie looked up at Jack. "I have the perfect red dress I could have worn to it to."

Jeannie's mother's face screwed into a disgusted sneer. "Honestly, Jeanette! I raised you better than this!" She pointed at her, shaking her finger at her as if she was five years old.

"Umm, you didn't raise me. My nanny did. So maybe you should take the issue up with her." Jeannie retorted, raising her voice.

The older blonde straightened. "I rue the day you have children." She paused and then shook her head. "No, I actually pray you have children. Maybe then you will discover why you are such a disappointment to our family."

"O-O-Oh kay, I do enjoy a good verbal sprawl, but I believe if I let this continue, you both will start to scare the straights." He pointed at the people milling about looking at the art. Jack smirked. "Come on, Sugar. The night's still early. Let's go get into some trouble." He linked his arm into his and saluted to his in-laws. "Mom, Dad." He nodded at the two sour faced Kerr's and escorted his wife out of the gallery.

After they pushed through the exit, Jack looked at his watch. "You've got me for three and a half hours. What do you want to do?"

"Mmmm." Jeannie hummed, tapping her pointer finger on her chin.

Jack rose a brow up at her. "Pie?"

"Pie." She agreed.

Jack, sat, shuffling his cards on the hood of his car that was back into an alleyway, positioned in case he needed to make a quick getaway.

As he shuffled his cards, he thought about he and Jeannie's life and future, planning out where they'd go after he completed his heist. Maybe somewhere tropical for a while, or maybe another country altogether. He would have to ask Jeannie her opinion, but broaching the subject was tricky. He knew she was nervous about him betraying Cobblepot, but once he explained that he wanted to make a name for himself and answer to himself as well, he was sure she'd understand.

He wasn't doing this solely selfish reasons either…well, mostly he was, but he was doing this partially for Jeannie. He wanted to make a better life for her. She deserved a comfortable life and to not have a worry in a world.

He knew she was happy in their little apartment, her working at the dance school and him working for Cobblepot, but he wanted more.

He wanted to be the one to lead them into a comfortable life. Him. Not relying on Cobblepot…

As a matter a fact, he wanted to make a name for himself doing what he loved to do. And he would. He'd see to it.

He paused in his shuffling to look at his watch.

Logan was late.

A whole five minutes to be exact.

With a heavy sigh, he slid his deck of cards back in its raggedy box and hopped off of his car. He was hoping that Logan had taken him seriously, so he could go back to Jeannie and possibly work on his heist plans, but apparently he was asking too much.

He grabbed his phone and dialed his boss's number.

"Jacky."

"Boss, Logan is a no-show. You want me to continue?"

Cobblepot sighed heavily on the other end of the receiver. "That cunt of a pretty boy. I had a feeling he'd stiff me."

Jack nodded his head, even though he knew Cobblepot couldn't see him agree. "He thinks he's above you, boss."

"Proceed, Jacky-boy. Do me proud. I'll give you an extra five grand if you make it extra messy."

"You've got it boss."

Cobblepot snorted. "I'll have the boys start laying down the plastic. I'll see you soon."

Jack stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He couldn't help the giddiness that started to bubble up. This was going to be fun. Pity this was probably going to be the last time he'd get paid to maim somebody.

He was going to get gloriously bloody tonight.

She knew the answer before she even saw the results.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

She looked at the offending test on the bathroom counter and groaned.

And there they were.

Two little pink lines.

Shit.

How did this happen?

How?

She was on the pill.

Jeannie ripped open the medicine cabinet to look at her birth control container and instantly frowned. She had switched birth control a month ago, and per her doctor's advice, she was given the go ahead to continue to have sex; the need to wait a certain amount of time to make sure the new medication was working was not needed, since she was on birth control and was merely transitioning to a different dosage… Well, apparently her doctor was wrong!

Oh, how she wanted to march down to the clinic and kick her OB square in the junk for the mess she was now in.

"Jeannie!"

Jack's muffled voice startled her, making her drop her pill container.

"Where's my notebook?"

She scrambled to the floor to pick up the container and snatched the pregnancy test off of the counter. "It's on the night stand." She yelled back.

"You ok in there, Sugar?" His voice was closer now.

"Yup!" She answered back and wrapped the test in toilet paper then shoved it to the bottom of the garbage can. She quickly ran the water to feign washing her hands and then opened the door. She was met by Jack, who was leaning up against the door jamb of the bathroom.

He frowned down at her. "You were in there a long time, Jean-nie. Everything OK?"

"Ya." She shrugged.

His brow hiked up, his frown deepening. "You're not getting sick on me, are you? You've been a few shades of green the last couple of days." He put his hand on her forehead.

"Jack," She gently grabbed his hand, removing it from her forehead. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Concentrate on your job."

He lifted his chin and peered down at her, his usual slicked back hair was loose and slipped into his eyes as he did so.

"You and Sammy hungry? I can make you guys something. Can't plan a master heist on empty stomachs."

He held her gaze a moment, making her inwardly cower. He always seemed to know if something was bugging her or if she wasn't feeling well, and her denying the fact that she wasn't feeling well irked him. She could tell.

But she wasn't about to tell him she was knocked up. Especially now. He was knee deep in plans, and insanely irritable. He was barely sleeping and was being a perfectionist when it came to setting up plans and recon for the bank robbery. He even got pissed at himself for asking Sammy to get in on it. But he knew that a heist of this magnitude wasn't going to work with just him. He needed somebody he trusted to be his wing man.

He was snapping at Jeannie for the littlest things, which in turn pissed him off because he saw the reaction he got out of Jeannie. She was a product of a highly abusive relationship. So she reacted like any battered woman; she became meek, and quiet.

And he didn't like it.

Not one bit.

But he was losing himself. He could feel it. She did, too.

"I'll make you guys some sandwiches." She pushed passed him, ducking under his arm, but was caught and twirled around and then surprised with a kiss.

"I promise, this madness will be over soon, Sugar. Just a few more weeks, and things will be better," he whispered at her, and kissed her forehead.

She nodded and smiled up at him. "Ok, Jack."

He let go of her and watched as she descended down the hallway and into the kitchen.

As Jeannie made the promised sandwiches, she kept herself busy thinking about what Jack had told her a week ago, instead of dwelling on the intruder in her womb.

"Sugar. Once the bank job is done, we'll have to leave Gotham."

Jeannie, who was folding laundry on their bed, stopped to look at her husband, confused at the random announcement.

"Leave Gotham? Like, forever?" She was confused.

"Yes, forever. Where would you like to live? You can pick anywhere in the world. After all," he smirked, "we'll be millionaires."

Jeannie wasn't stupid, but it hadn't occurred to her that after Jack robbed the bank, they'd have money…. Lots and lots of it. "Umm, wow. I don't think I know where I'd want to live…"

"We can roam around until we find a place we like. Live in ritzy hotels and live off of room service for a while."

She grinned up at him, pushed the laundry basket off the bed, and crawled slowly toward him. "I like that idea."

He chuckled. "Hotel sex."

"I like that idea too." She giggled as she grasped his tie and pulled him toward her. "I like that idea a lot."

She slathered mayonnaise onto a piece of bread a little too hard as she thought of the memory, causing the butter knife to slice part of the bread off.

"That was probably when I got knocked up…" She grumbled to herself.

She needed to figure out what she was going to do.

One thing was for sure… she wasn't going to say anything about her being pregnant until the heist was complete.

beta'd by: Springandbysummerfall