I don't know how odd/rare this pairing is, but I'm assuming it's not totally common. And if it isn't, who cares? This is just a random idea that I've been toying around with for the past few days, so let me know if you like it.

Bruce Wayne's shoes went slap-slap-slap as he walked along the hall. Plain white tile with black-grey streaks, typical of state- and city-run buildings. Silent, too, like a school hallway between classes or just before lunch. Before lunch was more accurate; it seemed to him that there was a tense expectation in the air, as though he could sense several hundred prisoners all planning their escape.

But it wasn't those prisoners he had come to see. Today, he was interested in only one.

Bruce stopped outside the director's office and straightened his tie, then let himself in. An older secretary with short, curly light brown hair looked up as she heard the door open.

"May I help you?"

"Yes." He rested an arm on the counter and looked her in the eye. "I'm here to see the director, Henry Arkham."

"Uh huh. And do you have an appointment?"

"My name is Bruce Wayne."

"Oh! He's right in there, Mr. Wayne."

"Thanks." Bruce stepped past her, knowing no appointment was necessary. Not for their wealthiest benefactor. He reached the office and leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest. "Hello, Mr. Arkham."

Henry Arkham, a tall, red-haired man in his mid-forties, looked up in surprise. "Mr. Wayne! What are you doing here?"

He smiled. "Just wanted to see how my money is doing, that's all."

"It's doing fine, as you can see." His gesture indicated the chair in front of his desk. "Close the door and have a seat."

Bruce did, sinking into the red-cushioned chair with a sigh.

"Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Water?"

"Coffee would be nice." Gallons of it, after last night. Henry left for a moment and came back with two steaming mugs of coffee. Bruce accepted his mug and sat back. "I heard you captured Harley Quinn last night."

Henry sipped gingerly. "Batman did most of the work, but yes. More accurately, Batman brought her here after she all but begged him to."

Bruce raised a brow, playing the part of clueless billionaire to the hilt. "Begged?"

"Yes. Begged." He shook his head in amazement. "She spent most of the night sobbing and thanking us for taking her in. Said 'Puddin' was going to kill her, and this was the only place he'd never look."

"From what I hear, the Joker would peg this as the first place she'd run. Though why he'd willingly set foot in here is beyond me."

Henry set his mug on the desk. "That was her way of thinking, I'm sure." He stood and paced. "None of it makes sense, Bruce. None at all."

Bruce stood as well. "I'd like to see her, if I may."

Henry looked at him curiously. "Why?"

"I'd like to see how my money's doing."

She was awake when Bruce peered through the window in her door. Awake and huddled in a corner, head down, blonde hair hiding her face. The Harley Bruce knew would've been on her feet doing handsprings or calling knock-knock jokes through the door by now.

"Any idea what happened?"

"No, but we have our suspicions."

"Namely?"

Henry sucked in a breath. "Amy--one of our new psychiatrists--thinks she might be pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

"That's what she thinks. Amy talked to her last night. Nothing much made sense, she said, but she put all the pieces together and said it's the most logical explanation." He smiled faintly. "I can't see the Joker getting excited about that kind of news, can you?"

"No. Not at all. So he kicked her out, is that the story?"

"Again, it's the most logical explanation. We're going to do a...uh...test today and see if it's the case."

Bruce nodded, thanked him, and asked another question, continuing the line of 'billionaire playboy here on business.' But his mind kept straying back to Harley, huddled in a corner. He remembered her words after he had captured her and taken her to the Asylum.

"Thank you," she had said, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing until he almost choked. She had clung to him, sobbing and thanking him until, uncomfortable, he had pushed her away and retreated into the night.

Harley Quinn.

The Joker's henchgirl.

Pregnant.

Bruce didn't want it to make sense. He didn't want the puzzle pieces to form that particular picture, but they did.

Harley Quinn was pregnant and safe in Arkham Asylum.

Funny. He had never thought of an asylum as a safe haven.