Delight in Disorder

Title: Delight in Disorder Chapter 9



Author: Melodyofchaos



Disclaimer: I don't own anything Batman related, if I did Bats and Joker would wear a lot less clothing whilst together. No money was made from this.



Rating: NC17



Warnings: Mpreg, explicit sex,



Summery: After Batman gives in to his hidden desires for one night, he carts off the clown to Arkham, only for the doctors to find the Joker is pregnant.



Big thanks to my wonderful beta, Amanda Saitou





Joker stretched sleepily, momentarily enjoying the feel of muscles pulling, before both his awful nausea and the memory of the events of the previous day kicked in, sending him running to the en-suite Bruce had pointed out to him last night. His green eyes narrowed dangerously even as he puked his guts out. To say the Joker hadn't had the best start to his first day in the Wayne household would be an understatement.



Bruce whistled happily, carrying the silver breakfast tray easily to the Joker's room. He balanced the tray on one hand, and pushed the ornate door open. And very nearly dropped the still steaming breakfast, he only managed to keep his hold on the tray due to his fear of what Alfred would say when Bruce told him he had dropped breakfast all over a $300 dollar carpet.



The Joker had disappeared.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Joker was quite happy marching through the Narrows as if he owned them. In a way he felt he did; the newspapers hadn't dubbed him the 'Clown Prince of Crime' for nothing after all! Joker didn't pause in his whistling of a jaunty tune as he kicked in the rotting door. The reaction to his entrance was immediate and dramatic.



His former henchmen managed to look both petrified at his return and rather surprised at his presence. The Joker then realised he was still clad in the oversized and expensive pyjamas Bruce had given him the night before, as well as his face being devoid of any and all make-up. It explained the surprise, although by now, many of the longer-lived henchmen were well used to the Joker's odd moments.



After a moment's pause, however, every one of them averted their eyes from the Joker's. He smiled so broadly, for one horrible moment, it looked as though his scars would split apart at the seams.



'Back to normal, indeed', he thought, quite happily, already busy thinking of fire painting beautiful patterns on the bland, towering steel and glass obelisks outside.



He quickly skipped off to his bedroom, humming as he went. The Joker and his henchmen were holed up in an old warehouse in one of the worst parts of the Narrows. His 'bedroom' had actually been the factory supervisor's office until he had commandeered it. The small office was messy, with open make-up tubes congealing on the floor, half-constructed bombs and various brightly coloured pieces of clothing scattered everywhere. One multi-coloured argyle sock hang from the ceiling fan. Joker frowned slightly at that, he certainly couldn't remember putting his sock up there. He shrugged, and quickly began gathering a complete outfit before hunting for some of his lipstick.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Bruce made it down to the cave in record time. Alfred had raised one silvery eyebrow at him as he had ran past, not bothering to explain the current predicament. Alfred, no doubt, would have something to say about the mass murdering criminal now free on the streets of Gotham.



He sighed, he couldn't go out in broad daylight wearing his suit, and at the same time knew he couldn't allow the Joker free run of the city until night fall. Not to mention that the Joker now knew his identity. Bruce allowed his head to fall on the desk with a dull thud.



"Master Wayne. What on earth was the hurry?" Alfred asked as he calmly stepped into the cave. He paused before continuing, "Shall I assume the Joker has escaped from Arkham?"



Bruce didn't lift his head and merely nodded. He heard Alfred sigh somewhere off to his right.



"What am I going to do, Alfred? I can't go out as Batman now, and I certainly can't let him have free reign of the city until nightfall" Bruce remembered just in the nick of time that Alfred didn't know about the baby.



"True, Mr Wayne, but nightfall isn't too far off."



Bruce considered Alfred carefully, who met his eyes steadily.



"Alfred…" Bruce began, uncertain of how to say what he needed to.



"Just spit it out, Bruce. I know that look" Alfred replied sternly. Bruce dropped his head and smiled slightly. The smile faded when he considered the enormity of his next statement.



"I'm going to be a dad, Alfred."



Alfred's mouth dropped open. "You are going to be… what?"



"A dad." Bruce replied evenly.



"Well… I'll just have to begin making wedding arrangements." At this Alfred's gaze went steely, before he continued, "Because you will be making an honest woman out of her, won't you, Bruce?"



"Ah. Well, see, I can't."



"What do you mean you can't?"



Bruce mumbled, "Notawoman"



"I didn't quite catch that, speak clearly and don't mumble please, Mr Wayne" Alfred's tone was positively frigid now.



Bruce cleared his throat, "Notawoman".



Alfred's mouth dropped open again, and his eyebrows shot up.



"But you said…"



"Yeah"



"Oh, dear."



Alfred sat, brows furrowed in confusion. "You got a… man pregnant? How?"



"I wish I knew. All I have is the Arkham case notes" Bruce muttered, thoughts far away. He missed Alfred's jaw slackening, and his quick mind picking up on Bruce's slip.



"A criminal. A male criminal. A male, criminally insane felon. You got an Arkham inmate pregnant!" Alfred's last sentence was yelled. Bruce flinched, he could count the times Alfred had raised his voice to him on the fingers of one hand.



"And I seriously hope it isn't the criminal I think it is!"



Bruce looked up at Alfred guilty. "Which do you think?" He asked quietly. Bruce's quiet, respectful tone just served to make Alfred angrier.



"Don't, Bruce!" Alfred yelled. He took a deep breath, visibly calming before continuing, "Did you sleep with the Joker, Bruce?"



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Joker was not happy. Currently, his forehead was resting on the lime green lid of the toilet, a pair sightless, staring eyes looking up at him. No henchmen had dared to 'check' on him since, and for the first time he could remember, the sickly sweet, iron smell of the blood made him nauseous, deepening his bad mood.



He slowly lifted his head, and stumbled over to the dirty, cracked sink to rinse his mouth out. He stared at his cracked reflection, before deciding to do a spot of shopping.



The Joker put his head down, the bright sun temporarily rendering him blind, before continuing down and out of the Narrows. As he got further away from the Narrows, the more people there were filling up the streets. None paid him a second look, his smooth youthful face, the black suit, the white shirt, the black tie and black dress shoes, he looked just like any of them. How he hated it. However, needs must.



"There you are, Sir. That'll be $20.60" The girl behind the counter smiled broadly as he handed her the money. He left without a backward glance, both hands filled with several bags.



He reached his temporary home in the Narrows in record time, feeling so much more comfortable away from the claustrophobic crowds in the main body of the city. He walked into the warehouse, not pausing as he stalked past the hench men, and into his own room at the top of the rusting metal stairs. Joker swept on black clad arm along his chest of drawers, sending the clutter on the top crashing to the ground. Silently, he unpacked the bags, laying out each item next the other, in a methodical, ordered pattern.



Three pregnancy tests, each a different brand, one new mobile phone, one pack of crackers and three bars of Cadbury's chocolate, one dark, one milk and one with fruit and nuts. He looked moodily at the odd assortment of items, before sighing, picking up a clean glass and heading into the bathroom.



Later that night, three high rise apartment blocks lit up the night sky, and one purple clad man watched the city burn, his head in his hands, no smile gracing his twisted features, not tonight.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Across the city, a dark man stood in his bedroom window, different from normal; used to the comforting weight of his armour as he bore witness to yet more destruction of his city, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.



Alfred came up behind him, no accusations on his face, not now, not when he knew how much this hurt Bruce.



"He must be stopped, Bruce. One way or another, he must be stopped."



Bruce made no reply, and he didn't look as Alfred left the room. He didn't see Alfred's tired, caring, hurt look as he shut the bedroom door quietly behind him. Leaving Bruce all alone in the dark, surrounded by destruction and dark thoughts.



That morning saw Bruce stood where Alfred had left him, and a plan slowly coming to fruition behind hazel eyes.



"Master Wayne? Have you stood there all night?"



"Huh? Alfred… err yeah, I guess. But I have a plan now." Bruce said tiredly.



"A plan?" Alfred looked quizzical.



"Yeah. To stop the Joker."



"Deadly force, one would assume, Master Wayne." Alfred stated. Bruce recoiled from him in horror.



"You can't… can't be serious?"



"Perfectly"



"But he is pregnant!" Bruce yelled.



"And he is a mass murdering sociopath!" Alfred yelled back, memories of Rachel flashing behind his eyes. It was unbelievable Bruce so quickly forgot the woman he claimed to have loved, unbelievable he would be so quick to jump into bed with her murderer.



Bruce rubbed one hand over his eyes, before he turned away from Alfred.



"Look. I will catch him, and I can keep him here…" When it looked as though Alfred was going to protest, Bruce added, "At least until he has the baby. I am tired, Alfred. I am going for a shower." Bruce walked away, leaving Alfred bereft in the middle of the room.



That night, with Bruce rested, he put on his suit, and headed out, hoping he would run into the Joker. He couldn't leave the clown out there for another night. It was either the cave or Arkham. Bruce knew which he'd prefer.



Batman gunned the Tumbler's engines, leaping from one roof top to another. It was midnight and he had been out here for hours with no sign of the Joker. The streets were far quieter than normal, even the low level stuff he left to the police was missing. Batman was willing to bet the Joker had something to do with it. It was eerie, it was so quiet, no sirens or gunshots to break the tense atmosphere of the city.



He parked the Tumbler in a quieter area of the Narrows, and set out to explore the meat packing district warehouses. He didn't have to search for long. At last, after hours of fruitless searching, Batman had found the Joker's lair. He moved silently up to the window, his face slackening in surprise at the sight before him. The Joker was curled up into a ball, cocooned by several blankets, and even from this distance Batman could see he was shivering. Something was wrong.



He popped open the window, and moved quietly up behind the Joker. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, causing his freshly applied white make up to run in rivulets onto the blankets underneath his head. Batman frowned, and moved around the room, taking this rare opportunity to gather anything he thought Joker might want that wasn't dangerous. Then, this done, he leant down and folded the blankets tighter around the Joker and swept the cocooned man into his arms. He was out the window and onto the roof by the time one sleepy, fevered green eye opened.



They were almost to the Tumbler when the Joker seemed to wake a little more, except all the mad man did was look at him, mumble and go to back to sleep. That was when Bruce decided Joker really was sick.



Alfred was waiting for them in the cave when they returned. Bruce stood, Joker in arms, as he got out of the Tumbler.



"Alfred, he's sick!" Bruce shouted.



"Well, what else is new?"



"Alfred, I'm serious!"



Alfred sighed. "What do you want me to do, Master Wayne?"



"Call Lucius. Tell him it is an emergency!"



Alfred didn't reply, didn't want to look at the thing curled up in Bruce's arms, and did as he was asked.



Lucius arrived in only fifteen minutes, but Bruce acted as though hours had passed. From the moment Lucius entered, Bruce was on him, concerns for the Joker spilling from his lips. Lucius, to his credit, remained calm in the face of Bruce's anxiety.



"Let's have a look, shall we?"



Bruce stepped back and allowed Lucius access to the sleeping criminal, but remained close.



"Well, he has a fever, but I would say that that is the result of him being severely dehydrated, and dangerously underweight for someone in his condition." At Bruce's raised eyebrows, Lucius explained, "Alfred called me. I would get a doctor here, Master Wayne."



"How? How would I explain this?" Bruce asked, exasperated.



"Well, surely his Arkham doctor is aware of his condition."



"You are a genius, Lucius!" Bruce exclaimed. Lucius smirked.



All Bruce had to do was to get Doctor Park here without having to explain why the Joker was here and why Bruce Wayne cared.



By the morning, Joker was much worse, tossing and turning in his delirium, alternating between being extremely hot and very cold. Bruce couldn't leave him, every time he tried, Joker got worse. It was almost like he knew Bruce was there…



He couldn't hold off getting Doctor Park here any longer. Bruce had Alfred make the call, as he watched the Joker's ravaged face twist in pain.



The doctor arrived quickly, looking terribly confused. Bruce stood and held out one large hand, shaking the more frail doctor's hand firmly.



"Mr Wayne. You appear to have captured a felon."



Bruce grimaced. "An ill felon, Doctor."



"So I can see. I really would prefer to take Mr Joker back to Arkham. I can care better for him there, not to mention the danger he presents by remaining here."



"No. He stays here"



"Mr Wayne…" Doctor Park began, clearly exasperated by this point.



"Please, just help him. Make sure the baby is O.K" Bruce asked quietly.



"How do you… Oh"



Bruce flicked up an eyebrow, and at the doctor's questioning glance, nodded. Dr Park sighed, and began to check over the ill clown.



Later, with a reviving cup of tea, Dr Park asked, "How do you plan to keep him here? I can't see him willingly or quietly being kidnapped". Bruce scowled and was about to answer when Alfred jumped in,"True, but in this case I would say the Joker's… delicate condition may work in our favour"



Bruce lifted his head to look at Alfred, his face surprised.



Alfred sighed. "Morning sickness, Mr Wayne, according to the Arkham doctor's notes."



"Oh. Good."



Alfred looked him straight in the eye before replying, "I wouldn't say that to him, if I were you, Mr Wayne"



Dr Park laughed.



"So how does that help us keep him here without him injuring himself or us?"



"Your mother suffered terribly with morning sickness, nothing your father could do. I wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't stand the smell of most food right now." Alfred answered.



"He really can't afford to lose any weight right now, Alfred."



Dr Park nodded in agreement. "I think what your butler is trying to get at, Mr Wayne, is that Mr Joker will be very weak after this, and with the morning sickness, his recovery will be slower than it would be normally. I highly doubt he will be capable of getting out of bed, never mind mounting a violent escape attempt."



Here, the doctor's gaze turned steely. "If you are insistent on keeping him here, I will require regular visiting hours, and you will have to care for him, no matter how ungrateful or resistant he seems. He will depend on you for everything. I would not suggest undertaking his care lightly."



Bruce nodded. "I'll look after him."



"This is going to be a bloody disaster". Alfred murmured from his corner in the room.