"This had better work, Leenie," growled J.J.

"Have you got a better idea?" she demanded.

"No, but this whole thing is really uncomfortable for me," retorted J.J. "I'll probably need intensive therapy over this whole experience for years to come."

"Lucky your Mom's a shrink then," retorted Arleen. "Are you ready?"

J.J. took a deep breath. "Ready," he muttered.

He opened the door to Harley's office, a forced smile on his face. "Harley, you've had such a rough day," he said to her. "Maybe I can help end it on a good note. Would you be interested in having dinner with me tonight?"

"You mean…like a date?" stammered Harley, elated.

"Yeah…like a date," agreed J.J., slowly. "But it doesn't have to involve any date stuff…I mean, you don't even have to dress up or anything if you don't want to…"

"No, no, no, I do want to," interrupted Harley. "I really do. Where did you have in mind?"

"I'll show you this evening," said J.J. "But I kinda want it to be a surprise."

"Oh. Ok," said Harley, smiling. "I enjoy surprises."

"Then you'll really enjoy this one," said J.J., grinning. "I'm just gonna see how Leenie's doing - I'll see you later," he said, reaching out to hug her. He held the hug for some time, and when he drew away at last, Harley caught his hand, bringing her lips toward his.

"Ok, see you tonight," he said, pulling away from her hurriedly and heading quickly toward the door. He slammed the office door, leaning against it and sighing in relief. "Close one," he muttered to his sister, who waited outside.

"Did you get them?" she demanded.

J.J. nodded, holding out the ring of keys he had purloined from Harley during the hug. "Lucky Dad used to play pickpocket with us from an early age. Or at least, he will in the future, hopefully."

They headed into the cell block, which appeared to be lacking in guards, and a sign on the door read Gone to Lunch – back in 10. "Boy, the security in this place really is terrible," commented J.J. "I can see how everyone always used to break out so easily."

They reached Joker's cell, and Arleen tapped on the glass. "Hey, Dad," she said, holding up the keys. "We're getting you outta here."

"I thought you wanted me in here to charm Dr. Quinzel," replied Joker, confused.

"Change of plans," said Arleen. "We need to get you back outta here in order to charm Mom at dinner tonight. She thinks she's going out with J.J., but you're gonna be there instead."

"And what makes you think that'll help?" asked Joker. "If she wasn't interested in the session today, she's hardly gonna have changed her mind by dinner tonight."

"Just trust us, Dad, please," said J.J. "It was a lotta effort asking my Mom out on a date – the least you can do is make that worth my while."

Joker shrugged, leaning back on his bed. "I don't really see the point, kids. Maybe in your future Dr. Quinzel had the hots for me, but I don't see any hope for that the ways things are at the moment. There's not even a spark of attraction there – you saw that today."

"That's because the catalyst of your spark is missing," said J.J. "Trust us, a romantic dinner on a rooftop by candlelight will be just the thing to light that fire."

"I dunno, kiddies," said Joker, shaking his head. "I ain't really the type to beg a dame to love me. If she ain't interested, that's her loss. I have better things to do with my time."

"What, like sit in this cell?" demanded Arleen. "Dad, nobody can blame you if you're afraid of being rejected again…"

"I'm not afraid of it!" snapped Joker. "I'm not afraid of anything! It's just annoying, and insulting, and I can do without being slapped in the face again just for trying to be nice!"

"That's not the Dad I know," sighed Arleen, shaking her head. "First of all, someone being violent toward him would only put him more in the mood. And second of all, he doesn't give up. Our Dad always taught us that was one of the most important things in life – to just keep fighting. He showed us that by continuing to fight Batman night after night. Your tenacity is one of things your family loves and admires most about you."

"Yeah?" asked Joker, hopefully. "Nobody's ever…recognized my tenacity before. At least not in a positive light. The papers are always going on about my unrelenting reign of terror, but I don't think they mean that in a complimentary sense."

"Your family does," said Arleen. "Mom does. She adores you, Dad, and she will here too, I promise you. You guys are meant to be, true love…at least that's what Mom always told us. And I believe her. I believe she has the sense to see her true love when he's standing right in front of her. Or maybe…she doesn't have the sense exactly...madness is the better word for what you guys have. Either way, it's destined, and we're the proof of that. You don't want your kids to be wiped from existence, and the Joker line to end with you, do you? Don't you want your comedy crusade to carry on and on, like in that song from Titanic?"

"What song was there in the ocean liner disaster?" asked Joker, puzzled.

"Oh my God, this is before Titanic was released," muttered J.J.

"A better time," agreed Arleen. "Ok, forget the song. The point is, Dad, don't you want to leave behind something that matters? Something that can inflict your jokes on the people of Gotham for future generations? Something that can put a smile on their faces whether they want it or not?"

Joker chuckled. "I'll say one thing – you kids have got the old Joker powers of persuasion!" he laughed. "I taught you well! Ok, I'll give the Doc one more shot. Let's go."

"You know, since we're here, and since I had to ask Mom out and all, maybe as a reward we could release Aunt Ivy too…" began J.J., slowly.

"Nope, we don't need distractions," interrupted Arleen, unlocking Joker's cell. "J.J., why don't you sneak Dad out of Arkham while I make the final arrangements here."

"Fine," muttered J.J., sulkily. "C'mon, Dad, let's find a way out."

"Which of the over 5,000 ways do you wanna take?" chuckled Joker.

"Whichever one attracts the least attention," replied J.J.

Arleen watched them go, and then headed back to reception, picking up the telephone and dialing a number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Uncle Jonathan. It's Arleen," she said. "Remember how you said you were at my service? Because I was wondering if you could do a teeny, tiny favor for me."

"Anything, my dear. Name it, and it is done."

"Great," said Arleen, beaming. "I need you to commit a crime. A crime big enough to draw out a certain Batman."