What to Expect When You're Unexpected
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zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Batman (All Movies)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
3,575
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] › Batman (All Movies)
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
3,575
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Safety First
Title: What to Expect When You’re Unexpected- Chapter 3
Rating: R (but only for occasional naughty language in this chapter)
Pairing: Batman/Joker
WARNING: PURE CRACKAGE AHEAD!!! You hath been warned.
Summary: After a visit from Mr. Mxyzptlk, Batman is the Joker’s baby daddy.
Pregnant.
He was pregnant.
The Joker was pregnant.
How the hell could this be possible? He was a man, for fuck’s sake. Men don’t get pregnant.
Except when creepy little midgets magically appear in your cell at Arkham and do something to you.
“Well, now what the hell do I do?” the Joker muttered, sitting on the end of the cheap motel bed, his head in his hands. “I’m not ready to be a mother.”
“You’re going to be a mother?”
God damn I hate Schiff and his boundary issues.
One Week Later
The Joker was rolling around on his mattress trying to get his pants to close around his waist. He had been rolling for close to fifteen minutes now. Obviously these pants had shrunk in the wash.
If he did wash.
With a snarl, the Joker ripped the pants off and threw them in a growing heap of “shrunken” pants near the door. “Maybe I should just wear sweatpants,” he snarled, curling up in the fetal position.
The image of himself and Schiff in matching purple sweat suits jumped into his head. “Oh, hell no.”
Speaking of Schiff, said man popped his overly perky head into the room. Ever since finding out about the baby, he had gone into mother hen mode. Which was starting to creep the Joker out.
“I got something for you!” Schiff chirped, holding out a paper bag.
The Joker snatched the bag and dumped the contents on the mattress. Several books stared up at him. “What the hell is this?”
“Well, I’m guessing that for the most part your pregnancy will be like a woman’s, so I thought you would need some materials on what to expect,” Schiff explained.
“A woman? A woman?!” the Joker shrieked, sitting up. His vision swam and he lay back down with a huff. “I’m not a woman,” he muttered petulantly.
Schiff smiled good naturedly and sat next to him, patting his shoulder. “Of course you’re not a woman, sir, but you are pregnant.” Schiff picked up one of the books and pointed to a part he had all ready high-lighted. “Now, according to this, dizziness, faintness, and fatigue are all to be expected during your second month. Are you paying attention? There’s so much that you need to know-“
Oh, this is going to suck so bad, the Joker groaned inwardly.
* * * * * * * * *
The Joker’s eyes popped open. He had fallen asleep. Again.
Damn, Schiff’s books were right.
Looking around blearily, he realized it was night time out. And he still hadn’t filled up the library fountain with piranhas.
Bah, that was boring. Maybe he should release the tigers from the zoo. Blow up a few bridges? Set off fireworks in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises? So many wonderful choices.
But first, food.
Glaring at the pile of pants, the Joker pulled on a pair of ratty sweat pants he owned. He glanced down and noticed that it was getting a little harder to see his own feet. “Shit,” he grumbled. How much longer was he going to be able to hide this?
Looking around to make sure he was alone, the Joker grabbed one of the damned baby books that Schiff had left him on the mattress. Flicking on a lamp, he started reading.
After a few moments, the Joker growled and threw the book aside. He really needed something to eat.
The first thing he noticed when he walked out into the normally darkened hallway was the glow. “What the hell is this shit?” he hissed.
“Oh, that’s so that you won’t accidentally slip and fall because you can’t see in the hallway!” Schiff supplied brightly, appearing suddenly at the Joker’s shoulder.
The Joker kicked one of the many nightlights that Schiff had glued to the wall. It blinked out, and Schiff immediately pushed it with a toe to reilluminate it. “See, one of the books I read explained that you may be having troubles with balance and soon you won’t be able to see your feet, making it difficult to get around,” Schiff explained. “And we need to think about your safety, and the safety of the baby! So, I’ve been making our hideout safer.”
“Safer?” the Joker mouthed. Oh now what has he done? With a sense of trepidation, he walked towards the kitchen.
Upon entering the kitchen, the first thing the Joker noticed was that it was spotless and reeked of bleach. All of the light bulbs in the room now worked. Schiff had installed what appeared to be railings to every wall. The table edges had been wrapped with bits of what appeared to be old towels, as had the countertop edges. Not a single sharp object was in sight.
“Now, Mr. Joker sir, you really shouldn’t be walking around in your bare feet,” Schiff admonished, brandishing a pair of slippers under his nose. “Wouldn’t want you to slip!”
Rolling his eyes, the Joker huffed noisily and put on the green slippers. He shuffled over to the refrigerator and yanked open the freezer. Well, there’s nothing a little ice cream can’t fix.
Ripping the top off of the ice cream tub, the Joker was shocked when his stomach rolled as the smell of the ice cream assaulted his nostrils. With a glower at the traitorous ice cream, he threw it in the sink. He rifled through the refrigerator in disgust. “There’s nothing to eat here,” he mumbled, finding only rotting fruit and several questionable chunks of meat.
“Why is there nothing to eat here?” he demanded of Schiff.
“We, uh, we haven’t had time to get any new food yet, sir,” Schiff stammered, starting to sound a little like his regular self.
And so it came to pass that the Joker and Schiff found themselves standing in the middle of an empty grocery store. The patrons and staff had long since fled in terror.
The two men were now trying to figure out the mystery of over the counter multi-vitamins.
Well, Schiff was.
The Joker was riding the shopping cart up and down the aisle.
“Just pick one out all ready,” the Joker whined, whizzing by Schiff yet again. “I’m hungry.”
“Listen, the wrong combination of vitamins could cause big problems,” Schiff explained.
“Can’t we get some food first?”
Before Schiff could answer, Batman magically appeared in front of the Joker and his cart. Batman reached out to stop the clown cart, causing the handlebar to slam into the Joker’s gut.
With a grunt of pain, the Joker’s hands clutched at his belly as he was knocked off the cart and onto the grocery store floor. He stared in shock at the ceiling.
“What the hell are you up to, Joker?” Batman snarled. He stalked over to Schiff and grabbed at the bottle in his hand. “Why are you stealing-“ Batman frowned in confusion. “Pre-natal vitamins?”
Schiff rushed to the Joker’s side, poking and prodding nervously. “Are you all right, sir? Does anything hurt? Cramping? Hemorrhaging?”
“I’m fine,” the Joker grumbled, standing up slowly with assistance from Schiff.
Batman looked between the large pill bottle and the two criminals. Rumor had it that the Joker had stolen close to fifteen pregnancy tests a week ago. Oh sweet baby Jesus, he knocked some girl up. Visions of a Joker crime family flitted through the bat brain, a shudder to accompany it.
“You know, you need to be more careful of me, Bats,” the Joker said. “A person in my condition-“
What the fuck?
“-needs extra special care. You can’t just go around slamming,” a Joker-esque arm wave to boot, “things into their bellies.”
Batman realized he would have to play along with this lunacy to figure out what was going on. “Joker, what are you talking about?” Batman asked.
“I’m in a family way, Bats,” the Joker responded.
Batman blinked. He blinked again, slowly. “What?”
The Joker’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip in frustration as he pointed to his lower half. “The rabbit is dead. Aunt Flo ain’t comin’ to visit any time soon. I’ve got a bun in the oven.”
Batman cocked his head to the side, looking suspiciously like a confused cocker spaniel. “What?”
“I. Am. Pregnant.”
“What?”
“It’s true!” Schiff piped up. “A little flying gnome man appeared in his cell at Arkham and made the Joker pregnant.”
Batman stared.
“Oh, fuck this shit, I’m going home.”
As Batman turned to leave, it hit the Joker like the proverbial ton of bricks. I really want Batman.
“You little bastard,” he muttered to himself. The Joker then shouted at Batman’s retreating form. “You’re the father.”
Batman froze. “You are not pregnant,” he snarled. “Men can’t get pregnant.” He continued stalking out of the grocery store.
The Joker chased after him, Schiff close behind. “No, no it’s true! You are my baby’s father! I figured it out! See, I made this wish-“
Batman spun around. Grabbing the Joker by his shirt, Batman slammed him into a shelf of sodas. “You. Are. Not. Pregnant.”
“Oh, I do not get paid enough for this,” Detective Bullock snapped.
Joker and Batman looked over to see two members of the Gotham Police Department had finally arrived.
“I think it’s high time I took up drinking on the job. You in?” Bullock asked the young man next to him. The two walked out of the grocery store.
Batman dropped the Joker unceremoniously on the floor. “Let me know when you want to do something normal, like blow up a day care or something.” Batman continued his retreat, the Joker running after him.
“But I am having your baby!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
Batman was thankful to see that the two police officers had all ready left by the time he got outside. This was too much insanity for him, and he didn’t want any getting a laugh at his expense over something like this.
“I am so very pregnant, Bats,” the Joker was continuing to rant. He managed to catch up with Batman, grabbing Batman’s hand and pressing it to his belly. “And it is so very your baby.”
Batman jerked his hand back as if burned. “Even if by some ridiculous turn of events you are in fact pregnant, there is no way in hell I’m that child’s father.” Leaving a slightly stunned Joker, Batman got onto his motorcycle… thingie and turned it on.
He jumped when the Joker started slapping his head repeatedly.
“You are my baby’s daddy!”
“Enough!” Batman roared, pushing the Joker away and speeding off.
Schiff ran over to the Joker, standing dejected on the sidewalk. He watched his master nervously, as the Joker’s face shifted between several emotions rapidly.
Swiping at weepy eyes, the Joker sniffed. “I’ll prove to Bats I’m pregnant.”
Rating: R (but only for occasional naughty language in this chapter)
Pairing: Batman/Joker
WARNING: PURE CRACKAGE AHEAD!!! You hath been warned.
Summary: After a visit from Mr. Mxyzptlk, Batman is the Joker’s baby daddy.
Pregnant.
He was pregnant.
The Joker was pregnant.
How the hell could this be possible? He was a man, for fuck’s sake. Men don’t get pregnant.
Except when creepy little midgets magically appear in your cell at Arkham and do something to you.
“Well, now what the hell do I do?” the Joker muttered, sitting on the end of the cheap motel bed, his head in his hands. “I’m not ready to be a mother.”
“You’re going to be a mother?”
God damn I hate Schiff and his boundary issues.
One Week Later
The Joker was rolling around on his mattress trying to get his pants to close around his waist. He had been rolling for close to fifteen minutes now. Obviously these pants had shrunk in the wash.
If he did wash.
With a snarl, the Joker ripped the pants off and threw them in a growing heap of “shrunken” pants near the door. “Maybe I should just wear sweatpants,” he snarled, curling up in the fetal position.
The image of himself and Schiff in matching purple sweat suits jumped into his head. “Oh, hell no.”
Speaking of Schiff, said man popped his overly perky head into the room. Ever since finding out about the baby, he had gone into mother hen mode. Which was starting to creep the Joker out.
“I got something for you!” Schiff chirped, holding out a paper bag.
The Joker snatched the bag and dumped the contents on the mattress. Several books stared up at him. “What the hell is this?”
“Well, I’m guessing that for the most part your pregnancy will be like a woman’s, so I thought you would need some materials on what to expect,” Schiff explained.
“A woman? A woman?!” the Joker shrieked, sitting up. His vision swam and he lay back down with a huff. “I’m not a woman,” he muttered petulantly.
Schiff smiled good naturedly and sat next to him, patting his shoulder. “Of course you’re not a woman, sir, but you are pregnant.” Schiff picked up one of the books and pointed to a part he had all ready high-lighted. “Now, according to this, dizziness, faintness, and fatigue are all to be expected during your second month. Are you paying attention? There’s so much that you need to know-“
Oh, this is going to suck so bad, the Joker groaned inwardly.
* * * * * * * * *
The Joker’s eyes popped open. He had fallen asleep. Again.
Damn, Schiff’s books were right.
Looking around blearily, he realized it was night time out. And he still hadn’t filled up the library fountain with piranhas.
Bah, that was boring. Maybe he should release the tigers from the zoo. Blow up a few bridges? Set off fireworks in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises? So many wonderful choices.
But first, food.
Glaring at the pile of pants, the Joker pulled on a pair of ratty sweat pants he owned. He glanced down and noticed that it was getting a little harder to see his own feet. “Shit,” he grumbled. How much longer was he going to be able to hide this?
Looking around to make sure he was alone, the Joker grabbed one of the damned baby books that Schiff had left him on the mattress. Flicking on a lamp, he started reading.
After a few moments, the Joker growled and threw the book aside. He really needed something to eat.
The first thing he noticed when he walked out into the normally darkened hallway was the glow. “What the hell is this shit?” he hissed.
“Oh, that’s so that you won’t accidentally slip and fall because you can’t see in the hallway!” Schiff supplied brightly, appearing suddenly at the Joker’s shoulder.
The Joker kicked one of the many nightlights that Schiff had glued to the wall. It blinked out, and Schiff immediately pushed it with a toe to reilluminate it. “See, one of the books I read explained that you may be having troubles with balance and soon you won’t be able to see your feet, making it difficult to get around,” Schiff explained. “And we need to think about your safety, and the safety of the baby! So, I’ve been making our hideout safer.”
“Safer?” the Joker mouthed. Oh now what has he done? With a sense of trepidation, he walked towards the kitchen.
Upon entering the kitchen, the first thing the Joker noticed was that it was spotless and reeked of bleach. All of the light bulbs in the room now worked. Schiff had installed what appeared to be railings to every wall. The table edges had been wrapped with bits of what appeared to be old towels, as had the countertop edges. Not a single sharp object was in sight.
“Now, Mr. Joker sir, you really shouldn’t be walking around in your bare feet,” Schiff admonished, brandishing a pair of slippers under his nose. “Wouldn’t want you to slip!”
Rolling his eyes, the Joker huffed noisily and put on the green slippers. He shuffled over to the refrigerator and yanked open the freezer. Well, there’s nothing a little ice cream can’t fix.
Ripping the top off of the ice cream tub, the Joker was shocked when his stomach rolled as the smell of the ice cream assaulted his nostrils. With a glower at the traitorous ice cream, he threw it in the sink. He rifled through the refrigerator in disgust. “There’s nothing to eat here,” he mumbled, finding only rotting fruit and several questionable chunks of meat.
“Why is there nothing to eat here?” he demanded of Schiff.
“We, uh, we haven’t had time to get any new food yet, sir,” Schiff stammered, starting to sound a little like his regular self.
And so it came to pass that the Joker and Schiff found themselves standing in the middle of an empty grocery store. The patrons and staff had long since fled in terror.
The two men were now trying to figure out the mystery of over the counter multi-vitamins.
Well, Schiff was.
The Joker was riding the shopping cart up and down the aisle.
“Just pick one out all ready,” the Joker whined, whizzing by Schiff yet again. “I’m hungry.”
“Listen, the wrong combination of vitamins could cause big problems,” Schiff explained.
“Can’t we get some food first?”
Before Schiff could answer, Batman magically appeared in front of the Joker and his cart. Batman reached out to stop the clown cart, causing the handlebar to slam into the Joker’s gut.
With a grunt of pain, the Joker’s hands clutched at his belly as he was knocked off the cart and onto the grocery store floor. He stared in shock at the ceiling.
“What the hell are you up to, Joker?” Batman snarled. He stalked over to Schiff and grabbed at the bottle in his hand. “Why are you stealing-“ Batman frowned in confusion. “Pre-natal vitamins?”
Schiff rushed to the Joker’s side, poking and prodding nervously. “Are you all right, sir? Does anything hurt? Cramping? Hemorrhaging?”
“I’m fine,” the Joker grumbled, standing up slowly with assistance from Schiff.
Batman looked between the large pill bottle and the two criminals. Rumor had it that the Joker had stolen close to fifteen pregnancy tests a week ago. Oh sweet baby Jesus, he knocked some girl up. Visions of a Joker crime family flitted through the bat brain, a shudder to accompany it.
“You know, you need to be more careful of me, Bats,” the Joker said. “A person in my condition-“
What the fuck?
“-needs extra special care. You can’t just go around slamming,” a Joker-esque arm wave to boot, “things into their bellies.”
Batman realized he would have to play along with this lunacy to figure out what was going on. “Joker, what are you talking about?” Batman asked.
“I’m in a family way, Bats,” the Joker responded.
Batman blinked. He blinked again, slowly. “What?”
The Joker’s tongue flicked over his bottom lip in frustration as he pointed to his lower half. “The rabbit is dead. Aunt Flo ain’t comin’ to visit any time soon. I’ve got a bun in the oven.”
Batman cocked his head to the side, looking suspiciously like a confused cocker spaniel. “What?”
“I. Am. Pregnant.”
“What?”
“It’s true!” Schiff piped up. “A little flying gnome man appeared in his cell at Arkham and made the Joker pregnant.”
Batman stared.
“Oh, fuck this shit, I’m going home.”
As Batman turned to leave, it hit the Joker like the proverbial ton of bricks. I really want Batman.
“You little bastard,” he muttered to himself. The Joker then shouted at Batman’s retreating form. “You’re the father.”
Batman froze. “You are not pregnant,” he snarled. “Men can’t get pregnant.” He continued stalking out of the grocery store.
The Joker chased after him, Schiff close behind. “No, no it’s true! You are my baby’s father! I figured it out! See, I made this wish-“
Batman spun around. Grabbing the Joker by his shirt, Batman slammed him into a shelf of sodas. “You. Are. Not. Pregnant.”
“Oh, I do not get paid enough for this,” Detective Bullock snapped.
Joker and Batman looked over to see two members of the Gotham Police Department had finally arrived.
“I think it’s high time I took up drinking on the job. You in?” Bullock asked the young man next to him. The two walked out of the grocery store.
Batman dropped the Joker unceremoniously on the floor. “Let me know when you want to do something normal, like blow up a day care or something.” Batman continued his retreat, the Joker running after him.
“But I am having your baby!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
Batman was thankful to see that the two police officers had all ready left by the time he got outside. This was too much insanity for him, and he didn’t want any getting a laugh at his expense over something like this.
“I am so very pregnant, Bats,” the Joker was continuing to rant. He managed to catch up with Batman, grabbing Batman’s hand and pressing it to his belly. “And it is so very your baby.”
Batman jerked his hand back as if burned. “Even if by some ridiculous turn of events you are in fact pregnant, there is no way in hell I’m that child’s father.” Leaving a slightly stunned Joker, Batman got onto his motorcycle… thingie and turned it on.
He jumped when the Joker started slapping his head repeatedly.
“You are my baby’s daddy!”
“Enough!” Batman roared, pushing the Joker away and speeding off.
Schiff ran over to the Joker, standing dejected on the sidewalk. He watched his master nervously, as the Joker’s face shifted between several emotions rapidly.
Swiping at weepy eyes, the Joker sniffed. “I’ll prove to Bats I’m pregnant.”