"I want you to meet your baby."

Jack's jaw dropped slightly as he stared up at Rachel.

"My . . . baby?" he choked out. He didn't . . . she wasn't . . . couldn't . . . His gaze fell back to the smooth skin of her stomach and he felt the tenseness in her muscles as he dug his fingers in, moving them around as if he could feel the new life growing in her.

This. Ruined. Every thing.

". . . Jack?" Rachel's voice was shaky as she took him by the wrists and pushed his hands back slightly, just so he wasn't leaving red marks in her skin. "I'm sorry, Jack. I know you wanted to wait, and I was all right with that, I promise ---"

"Shut up," he told her absently. "Just shut up." He wasn't sure what he was feeling. Anger, to be sure, boiling anger that everything he'd been working for had been upset. Anger that he'd been denied the conscious decision to produce a child. Suspicion that Rachel had stopped taking her pills, or skipped a day or two, anything to conceive. Heart-stopping fear, oh yes. Jack's chest was suddenly tight with fear as he stared at the soft curve of Rachel's stomach. His own stomach was almost sick with it. And . . . mixed in with it all . . .

Jack looked up at Rachel's tear-streaked face and then lowered his head and pressed his lips to her stomach. He was . . . he was happy. He was ecstatic. He was going to have Mitzi-thing of his own to hold and cuddle and teach things to.

"Did you do this on purpose?" he asked softly.

Rachel hiccuped as she cried. "God, no, Jack, I promise I didn't. Dr. Howard said that being sick, or under a lot of stress, can reduce the effectiveness of the pills, and they're not one hundred percent effective to start with . . ."

"So . . . me being so obstinate about not wanting a kid is the reason you got knocked up?" Even through his shock, the irony of the situation made Jack laugh. He sat back with his hands on Rachel's thighs and smiled up at her. "You have no idea how furious I am right now, do you?" The hesitant smile that had been creeping across his wife's lips faltered. She covered his hands with hers, tears falling out of her beautiful green eyes as Jack stood up. He ran his hands through his hair and cursed as he kicked the wall. "How long have you known?"

"Just today, Jack. That's why Helna wanted me to come in today; I honestly didn't think it was anything but the flu, Jack, I promise." He wasn't taking it as badly as Rachel had feared he would, but she'd hoped he'd be at least a little happy. "I didn't . . . I'm sorry."

Fa --- par --- Jack shook his head sharply; he wouldn't let himself think the words, much less say them aloud, no matter how they tried to worm their way into his brain. Rachel was crying softly, holding the towel around her shoulders and his ass-radar went off, pinging directly at him. It was with a heavy sigh that he stopped kicking the wall and went back to the table, hugging Rachel tightly. Fath ---

"You make things so difficult, sometimes," he whispered in her ear as he rocked her. "You just don't realise . . ."

She raised her teary face and trembling lips and sniffled. "Aren't you . . . I mean . . . are you that against having children?" she asked.

Jack stuck his tongue between his lower lip and teeth and shrugged. "Well . . . right now . . . yeah, I kinda am." She could get rid --- Some part of Jack that he hadn't known was there shut that thought down so quickly that he blinked from it. He tried the thought again. She could get --- No, no, wasn't working. Well. That was interesting. Jack was so multi-faceted, he amazed himself sometimes.

"What do you want to do?" Rachel asked quietly.

Well, there was a trap if he'd ever heard one. "What do you mean?"

"I want you to want this baby, Jack. I know you're not really gung-ho about the idea of being a father," and he flinched at the word, "but aren't you at least a little excited? Or is everyone completely wrong and you absolutely loathe children no matter how kind you are to them?"

"I didn't want a kid right now," Jack said firmly, "because there's a damned murdered on the loose who will shit his pants when he finds out you're pregnant. It puts you in more danger, Rachel."

She was shaking her head. "Jack, these murders ---"

"Have everything to do with us," he finished. "You know it, too, don't you?"

"What do you want me to do, Jack? Run back to Gotham and hope Batman saves me?"

"No, but I do want to talk with Bruce when you tell him the news." Rachel almost jumped out of her skin and gave him a horrified look. Jack raised his eyebrows at her. "What? You are going to tell him, right?"

She swallowed sharply. "A . . . about what?"

"This," he told her, pressing his palm into her stomach.

The look of relief on her face made Jack want to laugh as he pressed the heel of his hand down on her pubic bone. There was a . . . a thing inside of her, somewhere below his hand. A thing that he'd helped to make. Oh, shit, he was going to be a father. Jack's knees wobbled and he sat back down in the chair heavily, resting his forehead against Rachel's stomach as he shivered.

"Well, not right now . . . we can wait to tell people, Jack . . . Jack, what's wrong now?" She was touching him, her fingers running over his head and pressing into his shoulders. "Please talk to me, Jack. Please. Just talk to me."

"What do you want me to say?" he mumbled. "I like how we are now, just the two of us. I don't want to share you, not with Batman, not with a baby, not with anybody. Not on a long-term basis. I don't want you or a kid caught up in these murders. I don't want this guy to get a hold of you. I don't want to learn the hard way that I'm as bad as . . . as bad at raising kids as . . . as the people who raised me. I do not want to hurt either of you." He'd slowly looked back up at her. "You don't know how violent I still am, Rachel. I've never stopped wanting to kill just for the hell of it. I'm not a good person . . . I'm just good at faking it."

Rachel gripped his hair tightly and leaned down, pulling him up to kiss him firmly. "The first time you come at either of us in anger," she said against his lips, "I'll blow your fucking guts out. But you're not going to do that, Jack, because you love me, and you're going to love this baby. Say it."

"Say what?" he asked. His eyes were just a little bit wide as Rachel slid into his lap and put his hand on her stomach again.

"Acknowledge the baby, Jack. Tell me that this is our child. Your child."

"Fine, it's our ---"

Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling the small hairs that always hurt the most. "The baby, Jack. Him, her, I don't care what gender you say, you are inot/i going to distance yourself from this child. Tell me."

Jack swallowed and placed his free hand at the small of Rachel's back as he rubbed her stomach. "This . . . baby . . . is our baby," he forced out. "This is my baby." Each mention of the thing as something human, as a potential person, solidified it just a little more in Jack's mind. He really ought to pack her up and ship her to Wayne. She'd be safer there.

Rachel smiled at him, hugged him tightly. "I love you," she whispered. "You're just as important to me now as you were before."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Jack said. Then he looked to the side. "Well, maybe a little. But it's not important. A baby . . ."

He was having a hard time saying what he felt and Rachel smiled as she kissed his nose. "You'll have your very own Mitzi-thing to play with," she tried. Jack's eyebrows went up as his gaze returned to her.

"How big is it?"

Rachel blinked. "I'm . . . not sure. Dr. Howard can tell us on Tuesday. I mean, if you want to come to the appointment."

He frowned at her. "Why shouldn't I be there? It's mine, isn't it?"

"Of course the baby's yours," Rachel replied, and told herself firmly that Jack hadn't meant to sound like he was questioning the paternity of the child. "I just didn't know if you wanted to come with me or not."

He pushed her gently off of him and stood, shaking his finger in her face as he glared at her. "Well, I do. And you'd better take good care of it, too. Just relax and . . . do all the, the baby-making stuff you're supposed to do." She got a finger in the stomach, poking toward her uterus as Jack raised his eyebrows warningly. "No funny business."

It was all Rachel could to do keep from howling with laughter as she nodded in obedience. Jack gave her and her womb another suspicious glare before he edged around her like she was a wild animal, heading back outside. When she'd finished laughing and brushed her teeth, Rachel followed and this time Jack didn't complain when she settled on the blanket she'd laid out before. He barely registered her presence, in fact, sporting in the waves like she hadn't just radically altered his entire life. He'd start to freak out later, and then calm down for a while before freaking out once more; Rachel was used to the way Jack dealt with stress. The cycle would repeat until he'd finally come to terms with her pregnancy. She just had to hold out until then.

***

Janet was curled up against Jack, one hand resting on his bare chest, her head cushioned on his arm. He hadn't wrapped it around her, just left it flung out, and while she felt wonderfully queasy at the thought of him maybe tracing his fingers along her shoulder, the fact that he'd let her lay this close to him in the first place made her feel like fainting. She didn't even care that Susie was leached on to his other side; in fact, she was glad for it. Jack was so absorbed with telling her sister stories about fighting with Batman that he wasn't paying any attention at all to Janet herself.

She wanted to know where he'd gotten all his scars. She could understand the big ones, like the gut wound he'd claimed had been an alien baby bursting out (much to Susie's horrified delight), but the others, the short, tiny scars that went from his collar bone to his waist and his upper arms . . . those made Janet curious. They made her . . . she could have laughed at herself, if only she wasn't sure it would draw Jack's attention to her and make him push her away. She wanted to kiss them. She wanted to press her lips to them, maybe . . . maybe lick them a little. Would he like that? What would it feel like to kiss him? Janet had been a good girl all her life; she'd never done more than peck a boy on the lips and was vaguely afraid of French kissing. The thought of a slimy tongue in her mouth . . .

If she thought about kissing Jack like that, though, Janet found that she was all right with the idea of someone sticking their tongue in her mouth. She'd almost fallen down when he'd slid his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him earlier. True, he'd dunked her under the waves after that, but Janet hadn't been about to complain. She'd been in love with Jack since she'd first met him. She'd been at Mr. Bowen's when he and Rachel had stopped in for a visit, slumped in a chair in the waiting area as her mother cried in Mr. Bowen's office. She'd barely glanced up when Rachel had walked in, but she'd done a double take; Rachel was easily the classiest, most self-confident woman Janet had ever seen in person. She was poised, she was stylish, she was beautiful, she just radiated big-city charm . . .

And then, then she'd looked behind her as the door closed and pursed her lips, pulling it open again and reaching her perfectly manicured hand out. There had been a groan from the hallway as she'd dragged in a man with curly, chin-length dark blond hair, who obviously hadn't wanted to be there. He'd been muttering to himself and she'd shushed him, taking his hands away from her hips and pushing him toward the empty chair next to where Janet was sitting.

He'd been such a contrast to Rachel, his hair obviously not brushed, his jeans faded and worn, the knees torn almost completely out. He'd been wearing a white long-sleeved shirt under a purple t-shirt, and his shoes had been as scuffed-up as his jeans as he'd flopped bonelessly into the indicated chair. Rachel had leaned over to talk with Mr. Bowen's receptionist and Jack had turned to Janet and jerked his head at Rachel with a grin, indicating the way her A-line skirt stretched across her rear and obviously pleased by it. Then he'd noticed that Janet had been staring at the scars on his face, morbidly fascinated by them and he'd scratched at the curly one.

He'd reached into his pocket and pulled out a Tootsie Roll, twitching it back and forth in front of her as he'd arched an eyebrow. "It's not nice to stare," he'd murmured out of the corner of his mouth, still grinning. Then Rachel had turned around and raised her eyebrows at him, and he'd pointed at Janet. "It's hers. Her candy. I tried to say no, but she wouldn't listen. Look, kid, I already told you, I'm not allowed Tootsie Rolls for a week." Then he'd taken her hand and dropped the candy into it, turning back to Rachel with an innocent look on his face.

"Quit trying to scare children," was all she'd said. Janet had bristled a little --- she was thirteen, not a child. "And don't start trouble."

But Jack was still grinning, slinging his arm around her shoulder. "This is my new friend," he'd claimed before turning back to a wide-eyed Janet, who had just realised that this couple was the Jack and Rachel Dawes who were moving to town. She was being half-hugged by the Joker. "What's your name, friend?"

Janet had started stuttering, terrified of the grinning man next to her. His scars had pulled down into a frown and she hadn't been able to take her eyes off of them, not until Rachel had grabbed his ear and dragged him to the next chair as he'd started whining about her hurting him.

"Jack, I said not to cause trouble. What part of 'don't cause trouble' did you find hard to understand?"

"All of it," he'd quipped, then whined again. "I was just making friends . . . owww, stop hurting me! That's my ear, I need it . . . Come on, friend, help a guy out!"

He'd seemed so . . . so harmless. Funny. Mysterious. Vaguely sinister in the way his eyes took everything in, not to mention the scars on his face. And he was grinning at her, still grinning, like he was trying to share a marvellous joke with her and was eager for her to get the punchline.

"Mrs. Dawes, Mr. Bowen will see you now," Ms. Holloway had said as Rachel had been watching Jack like a hawk, glaring slightly if he did anything she disapproved of, and after a few minutes he'd been quietly drawing on a pad of paper Rachel had given him, his tongue flicking over his lips every once in a while. That had frightened Janet even more, because what sort of woman would be able to glare the Joker into submission?

Mr. Bowen had come out then, leading her sniffling mother and Janet had jumped up, hugging the woman's arm tightly as Jack looked up with another grin, and he'd grinned at her until the door closed, Mr. Bowen introducing himself to Rachel.

Rumours had spread like wildfire. Janet had told a few friends about meeting the Joker, but no one had believed her until Tommy Rivera had burst in to home-room one morning, yammering about running into the Joker as he was about to cross the street with his wife. It hadn't been the running into that meant Tommy had simply seen the man; he'd actually run headlong into him, almost knocking him over as he'd been rushing to school. He'd been rooted to the spot with fear as the Joker had glared at him, he'd said, then his 'totally hot' wife had grabbed his ear and told him to stop trying to scare kids.

Tommy had managed to stutter an apology and the Joker had just grinned at him, then grinned at his wife and turned away. Tommy had said he'd been lucky to be alive, and that if Rachel hadn't been there, the Joker probably would have killed him. They'd all believed him, and soon enough, their parents had confirmed that the man who had been the Joker before most of them had been born had indeed moved to town.

There'd been a huge town meeting about it. Almost no one had wanted him to be there, despite the fact that he was married to Gotham City's District Attorney, or that her mother had owned the beach house they'd moved into for years, and the older residents remembered Bethany Dawes and her cute little daughter, Rachel, with fondness. It had surprised Janet, who had tagged along with her friend Amy, that Mr. and Mrs. Dawes had been at the meeting, sitting in the back quietly. Jack had turned at one point and noticed Janet, because he grinned and took out another Tootsie Roll, tossing it to her with a wink. Without even looking, Rachel had reached out and cupped his cheek, turning his face back to the front of the room.

Then Jack had been called on to defend himself. He'd blinked at the room in surprise, then coughed and scratched the back of his neck.

"I just uh . . . I just do whatever she tells me to," he'd said as he'd pointed to his wife. "I mean, she's got a really nice rack, and she just sorta," and he puffed his chest out a bit, "and, well . . ."

"Jack!" Rachel had snapped, standing up and placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

His eyes had followed her chest as he nodded with a blank smile. "Yes, Rachel." It had produced a few nervous laughs, which had made him grin again.

"My husband hasn't had a violent outbreak in eight years," she'd went on calmly, looking around the room. "I understand your fears, but ---"

"I'm more concerned with getting some play than killing anybody, anyway," Jack had broken in. Rachel's eyes had closed briefly as she tried not to yell at him. Janet had been in awe. "Geez. Have a little faith, I mean, what do you want me to do? Teach a dance class? Ooh, can I teach a dance class, Rachel?"

"Shut up and sit down."

Much to everyone's surprise, he'd done just that, glancing at Janet with a shrug. Rachel had gone on to argue their case with such ease and confidence that it had been obvious why Mr. Bowen had offered her a partnership in his law firm without ever having met her before. Jack had settled down after a while, reaching up once to take Rachel's hand in his. She'd continued gesturing one-handed, squeezing his hand and then running her fingers through his curls. That simple act of affection, the way he'd pushed his head up into her fingers, had made Janet melt. He'd come up to her and Amy after the meeting had come to a close.

"Sign up for my dance class, friend," he'd demanded.

"Jack, we don't know if you can teach a dance class," Rachel had said. "Leave the girls alone."

"Ignore her; she's a party-pooper. But you'll sign up, right? Right?" He'd been like a little boy, bouncing eagerly as he nodded and grinned encouragingly at them. They'd nodded, huddled together and shaking with fear and excitement, and Jack had turned back to Rachel triumphantly, hugging her tightly as she'd tried to talk with Mrs. Bowen.

It had taken over a year before the dance class had actually happened. Jack was rarely seen in town on his own unless he was coming to visit Rachel on her lunch break, or when she'd gotten off of work. He'd followed her around like a puppy, a big, moody, sometimes downright grouchy puppy who had scared the daylights out of the Sullivan boys when he'd caught them shoplifting. Janet had heard that he hadn't even needed to threaten them, they were so terrified to look up and find the Joker standing behind them with a scowl and crossed arms as they slipped DVDs into their bulky jackets.

He'd been sitting outside the deli one day and had looked up when Janet had tried to creep past, her heart pounding.

"Friend!" He'd always called her 'friend' when he saw her, never listening when Rachel had corrected him on her name. "Hey, come here, sign up." He'd pushed a sheet of paper at her and watched her look at it blankly. "Come on, don't tell me you forgot you and your friend with the tiny nose said you'd sign up for my dance class!" She'd blushed and hastily scribbled her name down, then Rachel had come out and asked her to have her mother call the office before she'd leaned down to give Jack a kiss. Janet's heart had almost stopped, she'd been so jealous.

Still . . . she'd had to drag Susie along with her when the class finally started, and there'd been a lot of students who were curious as to whether or not the Joker really knew how to dance. Rachel had sat in on the first few classes and just smiled as the Joker --- who had gradually been becoming "Jack" to everyone --- berated, wheedled, praised, and threatened them into learning the dance of the month. Susie had attached herself to Jack almost from the start, and she'd been the one to notice when Jack had met Rachel halfway across the street after a certain class, taking her by the hips and lifting her straight into the air. She'd started squealing about it and then the entire class had started begging Jack to teach them how to do lifts.

Now he was singing softly to Susie as the bonfire kept them warm. Rachel had gone to bed early, and Janet had wondered about that; after she had finally come back to the beach and settled on her blanket, Jack had spent the rest of the evening ignoring her. They'd obviously argued about something; maybe he'd told her about staying the night at Janet's house with her mother? But he'd seemed perfectly relaxed, and Rachel hadn't been in tears, hadn't thrown him out . . . Janet sighed softly and dared to curl her fingers a little, pressing into his chest. Jack took a deep breath, but that could have been part of the song. She closed her eyes and tried very hard not to think of sex.

"Does Jack know how wrong that looks?" Raoul murmured as he stole a kiss from Hideki.

"What, the fifteen-year-old in a skimpy bikini clinging to him? Probably not. He's kind of dense like that, sometimes."

"Did he or Rachel tell you what's wrong, yet?"

Hideki shook his head. "Nope. I'll ask tomorrow." He'd been leaning into Raoul's shoulder, but straightened when Jack finally sat up.

"We're off to bed," he told the two men. "Lock the door when you come in."

"No problem. Good night!"

"Yeah. Off you go, brats. Get." Jack swatted both girls' rumps, which made Susie giggle and Janet jump halfway out of her skin. "Hurry! Rawr! I'ma eat you alive!" Susie took off shrieking, Jack following closely and growling at her. Janet rubbed her rear for a moment, then glanced back at Hideki and Raoul as they laughed before following her sister and Jack.

Once the door closed, Hideki grinned at Raoul and traced his fingers down his lover's chest. "So," he purred, "it's pretty warm out here with the fire." Raoul stretched and nodded, smirking. "And hey, I brought everything we need, and you know it's rude to have sex in someone else's house . . ."

"But not on their beach?" the younger man asked with a laugh.

Hideki pushed Raoul down and leaned over him. "Not on their beach." Raoul laughed again and pulled him down for a kiss.

Inside, Susie was whining. "I don't wanna go to bed, Jack. I wanna stay up with you!"

"I'm not staying up," he reminded her again as he tucked her in.

Big blue eyes stared up at him. "Can I sleep with you and Rachel?"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Not tonight. Go to sleep and we'll go fishing tomorrow." It took a few more minutes before Jack finally just got up and left, turning the bedroom light out but leaving the door cracked and the stairwell light on as he trudged upstairs. Rachel was already fast asleep and he watched her from the doorway for a while. She was so beautiful it took his breath away, and he doubted that she realised that when he teased her about it, he was serious. And now . . .

Now everything was changing. Jack undressed and then sat on the bed carefully before holding his suddenly aching head in his hands. He didn't want Rachel to be pregnant simply because it threw a monkey-wrench in all his vague plans. Other than that . . . Jack slid under the covers and leaned over Rachel carefully, his hand hovering just above her abdomen as he stared at it. Other than that, he was ecstatic. He was terrified. He felt . . . crap, there was a baby in her. His baby. His baby. Jack lay back down and very gently curled up against Rachel while his heart pounded and his eyes pricked a little. His Rachel. His baby. He had so much to live for . . .

That thought made him smile as he relaxed, finally able to get some sleep.