A/N- Okay, so we all know my standard apologies…they apply here as well. But, I've only one update left on a story I'm trying to finish…then I plan to post its sequel's prologue, and then guess what? I'm going to work continuously on this story and one other to finish them! Well, please enjoy!

Chapter 8- Oh, What a Cute…

Three and a half months in, and Harley was in her horrendous maternity clothes. This, in turn, made every day a potentially explosive situation. Joker seemed determined to let Harley know how he really felt about the ugly clothing…but Batman was just as equally determined to save the jester woman's feelings. It was a dangerous little game…and it even had unofficial rules.

It was early in the morning, sunlight just beginning to leak through the little window in the kitchen, when Batman emerged into the room. He sat across the table from Joker, Harley, and the three police officers that had been watching over the two asylum inmates while he had been out of the room. Alfred approached him and offered him a cup of coffee, which he declined with a small wave of his hand. Joker looked at the Dark Knight, a mischievous look gleaming in his eye. He opened his mouth and decided to act upon Rule Number One: Do not even begin to mention the clothes until Batman is in the room.

"Harl, about that top today, I—" Joker began, while Harley stared at him with an adoring smile.

"I thought we might go out today and let you stretch your legs a bit, Harley. Fresh air will be good for the baby," Batman said swiftly, thanking God that Harley's attention span was often that of a goldfish's.

"Yay!" she said, clapping her hands and standing. "I'll go and refresh my make-up."

In the farthest recesses of Batman's mind, he groaned to think that she meant the white and black paint. In the present, he turned as Joker sneered at him. Thankfully, after a rather rough confrontation with the Dark Knight back when this game had first started, Joker had made up Rule Number Two: Never try it more than once in a day. With a sigh, the Clown Prince of Crime stood.

"I guess I had better freshen myself up as well. Pray tell, Batsy, where would our destination be?" he asked, as the three officers around him stood as well.

"Just around town. Harley is a rather active person, and her continuing to be active might promote a healthy pregnancy…so long as she doesn't do anything too strenuous. I thought maybe a walk downtown would do her some good."

"Oh, goody," Joker muttered as he and his "entourage" exited the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, Batman and Harley, with her rather large purse around her shoulder, stood at the foot Wayne Manor's main staircase, awaiting the Joker's arrival. With a soft growl, Batman turned to Harley.

"If he doesn't hurry, I'll make-up his face."

Harley shook her head and sighed. "Puddin's always been like this. He really cares about his looks."

"Ready!" Joker singsong-ed suddenly from the staircase, sliding down the last few feet of banister.

He landed perfectly on his feet with his arms held up in a triumphant "Y." Batman shook his head as the officers followed right behind, walking instead of sliding, and turned away. Joker visibly deflated as only Harley clapped for him.

"Party pooper," Joker muttered.

"Let's go."

Again, Joker rode in the Batmobile with the Dark Knight, while Harley was in the police van with the officers. Batman held constantly to the idea that it might be best for all if the two were kept as separate as possible. The destination was the outskirts of downtown Gotham. From there, the group would park their vehicles and walk to the center and back. Batman, of course, would be right on the Joker's back, careful to make sure that he got no wicked ideas in his head. No one was too worried about Harley. She took the safety of her child pretty seriously, so running from cops did not even enter her mind nowadays.

By the time they had parked and unloaded everyone, the sun was shining brightly down through the few trees that decorated this nicer portion of Gotham. Harley skipped happily along while Joker sulked and hung back, staring almost longingly at the jewelry stores and joke shops they passed.

"Don't even think about it, Clown," Batman menaced.

Joker scoffed and continued to sulk. The group walked on in silence a bit farther, until a musical sound filled the air. Harley passed, looking for the sound the way a puppy might. Then, she sniffed the air lightly, finally taking a deep whiff.

"Puddin'! It smells like a carnival!" she squealed joyously.

She bounded ahead of the group, causing the cops to step up their pace after her. Joker turned and eyed Batman, whose gloved hand instantly shot out and caught the sleeve of Joker's purple jacket. The two of them walked calmly after the cops and Harley.

They emerged right into the heart of downtown Gotham, where it appeared that something between a carnival and a sidewalk sale was going on. Music blared from all around them the smell of different vendors' food wafted by them in the air, the lovely smell of deep fried sweets. Batman scanned the moderately large crowd of Gothamites and sighted Harley and the police officers that had followed her near the source of some of the mixing music around them. Still holding tightly to Joker, the two made their way through to them.

They came to a stop right beside Harley, who was smiling and clapping happily at the single performer before them. The performer was dressed in white and dark green…looking very much like a German folk dancer playing a bright red and black accordion. Around him danced a small monkey, hanging from the instrument, holding a hat out for kind donations by the crowd, and sometimes even playing a few notes. At the end of the current sound, the surrounding audience clapped, with Harley clapping the loudest of all.

"Harley, you shouldn't run off like that," Batman chastised.

She pouted and pointed at the monkey now holding the hat before them. Batman rolled his eyes and plopped a coin in the black hat. The monkey chattered and returned to its owner as the Folk Dancer began another song.

"Let's move on, shall we? We should head back to the mansion soon."

Harley nodded and followed after them. It was a large crowd, and Batman suddenly found himself worried that Harley would slip away from him again. He turned and ordered Gotham's Finest to keep as close to her as humanly possible. They nodded, and Batman watched as soon the whole group fell away from his sight. Joker laughed.

"It's a shame my Harley girl has no mind for escape…this crowd would be the perfect opportunity," the Clown said with a couple of devious chuckles.

Batman decided not to answer, pushing himself and his purple-clad prisoner to the appointed meeting place that had been agreed upon before departing Wayne Manor—a little Italian deli that was as close to the center of downtown Gotham as they could get and still have a landmark. They found themselves waiting for a few minutes, Joker eventually becoming bored enough to start doing things to scare the passing masses. He'd whistle at random people, who would turn and, upon seeing who it was, flee in fear. He even tripped one poor soul, causing the young man to spill his ice cream cone all down his front. Finally, Batman grabbed the Harlequin of Hate up by his collar and lifted him so that they were face-to-face and only inches apart.

"Stop. It."

"Fine, fine, fine," Joker sighed as Batman placed him back on his feet.

They were finally joined a few moments later by Harley and the police officers. Harley was holding tightly to her large purse. Batman raised a brow but said nothing; he simply indicated that they head back to their vehicles, and thus to the mansion.

…………………

As soon as they had reached Wayne Mansion, Harley had dashed upstairs and locked herself in her and the Joker's room. Joker had groaned.

"I hope she isn't making some more of those God-awful clothes!"

"Like you're one to talk," Officer Morgan said, shaking her head as she walked by a very offended clown.

"I'm sure she's not…after all, she had a great volume of them already," Batman said, releasing Joker only after everyone was securely inside the manor. "She'll probably be back down in a little while."

But it was not until dinner when Harley finally emerged. And the group surrounding the spacious dining table was quite surprised by her presence. Her face make-up was visibly smudged and her blonde pigtails were frizzed and falling. Not to mention that the right sleeve of her maternity blouse was torn at the seam. Even Joker was looking concerned.

"Um…what's up, Harl?" he asked as Alfred set his dinner plate in front of him.

"Huh?" Harley asked as if she were confused. "What do you mean?"

"You look rather…distressed," Batman said, leaning forward. "Did something happen?"

Harley blinked at him. Then, she smiled brightly and shook her head.

"I have no idea what you two are talking about! Now, let's eat, I'm starved! I am eating for two, you know."

Dinner was a silent affair, and all attention was upon Harley, who was—very noticeably—sneaking her vegetables into a napkin in her lap. What she wasn't sneaking, she was plowing through like there was no tomorrow.

"Slow down, Harley. You're going to make yourself hurl again," Joker said.

"Oh, sorry, Puddin'…well, I'm done," she said, standing and sweeping the now folded napkin of vegetables around behind her back. All the onlookers blinked up at her. "I'm…heading to bed. Night!"

She took off. Everyone exchanged looks with everyone else…then followed. Harley had moved fast, for there was no sign of her as the group rounded the corner and mounted the stairs. In fact, they did not even hear her until they neared the closed door of the bedroom that she and the Joker shared. Then, it was only Batman and Joker that walked forward, stopping to listen to Harley—who was very clearly talking to someone—beyond the door.

"Ow, stop that, dear! No, no, no! Mommy's hair is not for playing. Let go!" she said.

Without even knocking, both the Bat and the Clown pushed open the door. With a gasp, Harley—who was bent into an upside-down L shape—turned to face them. Hanging from one of her pigtails…was a monkey. And not just any monkey, Batman noticed, but the monkey that had belonged to the Folk Dancer. Joker shook his head.

"Oh, Harl. Why?" he asked.

"Well," she giggled nervously. "I just saw how…human-like the monkey was and I thought, 'Hey! I can practice being a mother with a monkey!' You know…to see if I'd be any good…but I don't think the monkey likes me."

"Harley…monkeys are no substitute for actual children," Batman said gently, taking a slow step forward.

"Whew," Harley sighed. "I was getting worried that I sucked badly! Now, could you kindly get this thing off of me?"

Now there was a little bit of panic edging into her voice, and the Joker was beginning to chuckle at her. Batman walked forward, and, with some gentle coaxing, was able to get the monkey to crawl onto his shoulder. Harley straightened herself and smiled sheepishly.

"I was going to name the monkey Herbert," she said softly.

Joker snorted. "Herbert? What kind of name is that?"

Harley rounded on him, fury in her eyes, and shouted, "Don't make fun of your son's name!"

Joker blinked, shocked momentarily, before replying, "That monkey is no son of mine, Harl!"

Batman sighed as Harley stomped and put her back to Joker, crossing her arms. The Dark Knight stepped into the hallway and paused. Outside, the cops were engaging in what looked like a game of "Rock, Paper, Scissors." He raised a brow, and one of the male cops shrugged.

"We knew one of us was going to get to take the monkey back…whoever lost got the job," he explained.

Batman shoved the monkey into his hands. "Just take it to its owner."

End Notes: Okay, so I hope that was funny. Also, I'd like to say that although I do have a later chapter of this fic that is inspired by an episode of "Friends," this chapter was not. Actually, this chapter was inspired by the very last episode of "Frasier," in which Arleen Sorkin—voice of Harley Quinn—guest stared…and owned a pet monkey. Well, please review! And don't forget to vote if you haven't!