Chapter 1

                                    

                                          
Fun in the Oven
                          
"Harley!  Hurry up in there, would ya?" snapped the Joker, checking his watch and  pounding on the bathroom door. "How long does it take to put on some  goddamn makeup, for Christ's sake?"
                          
"I'm...almost ready, puddin'!" called Harley.
                          
"I  don't wanna be late for this fight with the Bat, Harl!" shouted Joker.  "Everyone's expecting us to be there! And I still need a shower,  y'know!"
                          
He suddenly heard a sound, and grew angry. "Harley,  pretending to throw up when I talk about getting a shower isn't funny!"  he snapped. The sound continued, and the Joker slowly began to realize  Harley wasn't pretending.
                          
"Harley?" he called. "Are you sick?"
                          
"No, I'm not, puddin'!" said Harley, hastily. "I'm not...I can come on this job, really! I feel fine!"
                          
"Harley, just let me in!" he snapped.
                          
The  door unlocked and Harley opened it, dressed in a fluffly bathrobe. Her  face was pale, but free of makeup, and her eyes had dark circles around  them. "You look terrible," said Joker, bluntly.
                          
"I...feel fine,  puddin'," she repeated, as he followed her into the bathroom. She  suddenly fell to her knees in front of the toilet again and began  coughing.
                          
"You're sick," he insisted. "And you ain't infecting me. You're staying home."
                          
"Puddin', please, I'm fine," said Harley, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Don't worry. I ain't sick, I..."
                          
She buried her face in the toilet again. "You drunk?" he demanded. "Because that's the only other explanation I can think of."
                          
"Please just...let me go with you, puddin'," begged Harley. "Please, please, please, please..."
                          
"Get dressed and we'll see," interrupted Joker.
                          
Harley  nodded, hurrying to her feet and racing back into the bedroom. The  truth was, she was worried. She had been throwing up like that every  morning for a week. But she didn't feel sick at all, although she  admitted to herself that she looked a little off. She couldn't think of  any reason for it, which only made the situation even more puzzling. But  she was desperate not to let it affect her performance for Mr. J.
                          
She  dressed quickly in her usual, skintight, harlequin costume, put on her  makeup, and waited for Mr. J to emerge from the shower. He did several  minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist. "You feeling any  better, Harl..." he began, but stopped talking suddenly, staring at her.
                          
"Mr...J?" said Harley, puzzled. She followed his eyes down to her chest. "What is it?"
                          
"You wearing a new bra?" he asked.
                          
"No," she said, confused. "Why?"
                          
"You sure?" he said.
                          
"Yeah,  I'm sure," she retorted. "It's my usual...ow, Mr. J!" she snapped as he  roughly grabbed one of her breasts. "Stop it! They're really sensitive  lately!"
                          
"They're more than sensitive," he murmured. "They're bigger, baby."
                          
"No, they ain't, puddin'..." she began.
                          
"Oh, believe me, they are," he whispered, feeling them. "A guy notices these things."
                          
"But...I don't understand...why...Mr. J...oh, Mr. J!" gasped Harley, as he began kissing her passionately.
                          
"Let's  go back to bed, pumpkin," he whispered, continuing to kiss and feel  her. "Daddy wants some playtime with his Harley girl."
                          
"But...but you got a battle with the Bat scheduled, puddin'..." she stammered, astonished.
                          
"I don't care," he interrupted, shoving her down on the bed.
                          
A few hours later, the phone rang. "Mmm...hello?" said Harley's voice, blissfully.
                          
"Harley? Are you ok?" asked Poison Ivy.
                          
"Oh yeah, I'm great, Red," purred Harley. "Everything's just great...Mr. J, stop it, you bad boy!" she giggled.
                          
"Is this a...bad time?" asked Ivy, slowly.
                          
"No, Red, Mr. J's just being a naughty boy, and I'll spank him for it later," said Harley. "What's on your mind?"
                          
"Well,  I was worried when you and J didn't show up to fight Bats at the  museum," said Ivy, puzzled. "Everyone thought something must have  happened to you."
                          
"Uh...no, Red, nothing happened," said Harley, slowly. "Mr. J just decided he wanted to do...something else today."
                          
"Or someone else, right, kiddo?" chuckled Joker.
                          
"Mr. J, stop!" giggled Harley.
                          
"Oh...really?" asked Ivy, surprised. "That's...kinda unusual for J, putting you in front of Batman."
                          
"Oh, well, I guess Mr. J decided he'd have more fun playing at home," giggled Harley. "Did the fight go well?"
                          
"Not really - Nygma got dragged back to Arkham, but the rest of us managed to escape."
                          
"Sounds  like the fight went well to me!" chuckled Joker. "Kinda sorry to have  missed it. But Daddy preferred playing with his baby in bed, didn't he,  pooh?"
                          
"Puddin', please...just leave 'em alone!" giggled Harley. "I keep telling you they're not bigger..."
                          
"What's...not bigger?" asked Ivy, wondering if she really wanted to know.
                          
"Mr. J thinks my boobs are bigger than usual," explained Harley. "I keep telling him they're not..."
                          
"And  I keep telling her a guy notices these things," retorted Joker. "All  men are boob men. Well, unless they're gay. I mean, they're called  funbags, for goodness sake, how could I not love 'em? And I'll be  honest, Harley's always needed a little filling out in that department,  but it looks like my dreams are finally coming true!"
                          
"Why...would Harley's boobs be bigger?" asked Ivy.
                          
"That's what I wanna know!" retorted Harley. "I think he's just making all this up!"
                          
Personally,  Ivy agreed. She knew the Joker hated being predictable, and putting  Batman first all the time had gotten kinda predictable. Maybe he was  doing this just to keep everyone on their toes. Plus she knew that  Harley had always had an insecurity about her small chest size, and she  assumed Joker knew it too. She guessed he was telling her this as a  cruel joke, to build up her self-image and then dash it when it was at  its peak. That sounded like the kinda thing the creep would do.
                          
"Oh...Mr. J...again? You greedy boy! I...gotta go, Red," gasped Harley, in between kisses. "Talk to you..."
                          
The  phone cut off. Ivy sighed heavily. "Well, now I have to go try to  remove some rather disturbing mental images from my brain," she  muttered, standing up. "I hate my life. I really do."