AN: Hi lovelies! For those of you that are waiting on me to update MTL... I'm so sorry I had to write this, who doesn't love mother daughter bonding time? (Also Nibs is being a little buttface) But I hope you all like it, tell me if I can do anything better or just what you think. Thanks to Koriandr1 and Amelia-bella1 for reviewing, to Boo Dickinson for following/favoriting, and to doggy bye for favoriting! Happy reading!

~Luna

Chapter 4

Visitation Day was possibly's Harley's favorite day of the entire year. Halloween was a close second, but seeing her baby made everything four thousand times better. Seeing her baby laugh was what convinced Harley that she hadn't screwed up most of the time, even if Lucy had her father's sense of humor. Mother and daughter were sitting on a bench, Felix curled up in Lucy's lap while the Harley was pelting birds with bread crumbs from her sandwich. Lucy would let out a laugh every time one would get hit the eye. It scared Harley, Lucy's laugh was so similar to her Puddin's. And apparently the girl had gotten his sense of humor as well.

People were staring. Harley had gotten used to it the second she entered med school. After all, a woman psychologist wasn't very common when she went to school; a beautiful woman psychologist was unheard of. But still, Harley double checked that she had worn a few giant bracelets to cover up the red and black diamond tattoo on her wrist. Lucy was not so receptive to the attention. The girl looked absolutely murderous if anyone came up and asked what kind of dog Felix was, effectively scaring off the passer by and preventing Harley from having to lie. Again, terrifying, just like Mr J.

"Mama? Why did you give me up?" She asked suddenly.

Shit. Shit shit shiiiiiiitttt. Harley had to scramble for an answer, one that could be suitable for Lucy without bringing up her criminal history. "Well, baby. Where I work, it's not the best place to raise a baby. Civil wars breaking out all the time and all that. Your auntie didn't think so either, which is why she has legal rights over you."

Harley didn't mention that according to the government Harleen Francis Quinzel did not exist, hadn't since she burned all of her legal documents.

Lucy just nodded, ripping off a piece of her roast beef for Felix, who gobbled it up greedily.

"He's gonna be a little fatty if you keep feedin' him like that," Harley laughed. "I had the exact same problem with Lou."

Lucy looked up, her furrowed eyebrows making her eyes seem smaller. "Who's Lou?"

"He's my dog," Harley lied. She felt bad about lying to her baby, but it was what had to be done. "I have two, Bud and Lou."

"Not spotted hyenas?" Lucy asked, a smile playing on her lips.

"No, yours is special," Harley stood up off the bench, stretching. "Let's go, you lazy sack of potatoes. There's an arcade with our names on it."

•••

Mama was lying. About her dogs, but I felt where she worked was the only truth. I couldn't blame her though, it wasn't like lying wasn't a normal human past time. I lied to practically everyone. Still I followed her to the arcade, hiding Felix in my tiny backpack. He fell instantly asleep.

I'd never been to an arcade before but from that day, I decided I liked arcades. Mama showed me this trick with the claw game, resulting in a prize every time. I was surprisingly accurate at any game that involved targets, and Mama was both amazing at retro games like Pac man and anything that required whacking.

The newest game at the arcade was a bit strange. The game was called Gotham, and you got to play as Batman or any of the various Robins or Batgirls, fighting virtual crime. The boss level was to defeat the Joker, with lesser known villains as the focus of the other levels. Mama hated it and wouldn't even go near the game. I supposed she didn't like seeing her former patients being beat up like that, even if it was only an arcade game. I knew she worked at Arkham Asylum before I was born, and from the stories Uncle George told me (he was a night guard while going through business school), she was positively brilliant and one of the only humane doctors there. She was an advocate for rehabilitation and actual therapy, instead of electroshock.

At the end of the day, Mama was driving me back to hell, each of us with a giant lollipop from this little candy store on the pier called Marini's Munchies. When we entered, Mama looked like she was in heaven and I have to admit it was pretty spectacular. "Dark" was not in their vocabulary and there were candies of all shapes and sizes, even specially made dog treats, which I bought a bag for Felix. Mama had decided on a rainbow lollipop bigger than her face, and I picked a Batman shaped lollipop. It gave me great joy to see the candy become an unrecognizable lump.

All too soon, we pulled up in front of the my aunt's house. Mama walked me to the front door, arm sling around my shoulders. I had Felix squirming in my arms, anxious to get away from the house. I couldn't agree more with him.

"Did'ya have fun, baby?" She asked, pressing the doorbell.

I nodded, trying to keep my lollipop away from Felix. "It was the most fun I've had in a while."

"You're so proper, Lucy," she laughed, but I was strangely okay with it. "That's good. A lot more people will take you seriously than..."

She trailed off but I knew the end of that sentence: than her. People don't take the accent from the slums kindly. Most people think that they're lesser, simply because they don't pronounce a "g" when speaking. I find that incredibly stupid, but then again, I find most of society's norms and unspoken rules of conduct stupid to begin with.

Aunt Marilyn opened the door, her displeased expression stating it was way past curfew. Mama pressed a kiss to my head with a promise to come visit in another three months, and walked back to her car. She waved before sliding into the driver's seat. I watched the car drive off even after it disappeared from view, only going inside when Aunt Marilyn had enough. As I walked inside, I could see a silhouette of a man rise from a car across the street and for a second I swore he had on a purple coat. That was improbable, however. No one besides the Joker owned a purple coat, even stores had stopped carrying them due to the man. But the probability of the Joker standing in front of my house without destroying anything was astronomical, wasn't it?