I'm a path of cinders

Burning under your feet

You're the one who walks me

I'm your one way street

Bjork - Bachelorette

Millie's Burgers and Shakes. The tacky, 1950's inspired logo glared up at him from the take out menu he'd pulled from the brown paper bag some grunt had brought his food in. Mint green, chrome-looking trim. You know the style. There's a similar diner on every street in every city in America, it seemed. Always with the same, middle-aged, overweight, moody waitress and the same over worked, tired, bald cook. The menus are always the same with cutesy, '50s callback names. They always serve their Coke in glass bottles and play the same 5 Elvis songs on loop. And, yet, this one was different. This one caught his attention. Because it was familiar. That bothered him.

It bothered him because it was a type of familiarity that came from his gut, not his mind. Few things could make him feel uneasy. His gut, and familiar things like this one, could get him every time. Moments like this were so rare for him. Even more rare as time went on. He'd been the Joker for so long now that these flashes of memory from another man's life felt foreign, and left a sour taste in his mouth. And, so, he stared back at the logo. He dragged it, kicking and screaming, around every corner and into every nook and cranny in his brain until, finally, it came back to him. Everything stopped. A silent gasp of a laugh left his unsmiling lips.

"The movies lied," he said quietly to himself, remembering a conversation from another life. "No one does it like that!" And suddenly it was like he was living that life. Sitting in a tacky, bright, 1950's theme diner, across from a pretty redhead with a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes, and a milkshake in her hand.

...

"Of course they lied!" Kaylie laughed from across the table, shoving a French fry into her mouth. "Imagine the fire hazard!"

They were both eating and laughing as they ate. The restaurant wasn't busy, but the atmosphere was great. It was their first time there. A small, greasy spoon type of place halfway between home and Wild Card.

"But it's romantic, is the point," Jack continued. "There'd always be this chick, picture it with me, now," he talked quickly, and with his hands, like he always did when he was excited about something. She smiled at him, enraptured, and took a sip from their shared milkshake. "Blond hair, perfectly, uh, perfectly-"

"Coiffed?" She offered.

"- coiffed, thank you. Perfectly coiffed. Makeup, immaculate. Red lips. Bedroom eyes. Oh, and the hair," he snapped his fingers before waving a hand over one side of his face. "Kind of half over the eye, like that, right?" Kaylie nodded for him to continue. "Silk nightgown. Red..." He thought a moment. "... Or it could be white... lace over the cleavage. Matching robe, right? Sheer," he swooped his hand down behind him. "Practically dragging on the floor. Faux fur... maybe feathers... around these huge sleeves and around the edges of the thing. Pearl necklace... a, uh, a real one," he winked. "You see her, Sugar?"

She nodded again, brown eyes rolling at his crude humor. "I see her, Jack."

He clapped his hands. "Perfect. And her guy - husband, boyfriend, boss - whatever he may be - comes home - three piece suit - walks into the bedroom, and there she is," he dramatically bites his knuckle. "Lit up only by the million or so candles she's got through the entire room. And he just knows... And you just know... y'know?"

"Yeah," Kaylie agrees, sighing dreamily. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Everyone does!" He exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table, definitely harder than he meant to. "But no one does it in real life."

She sipped the milkshake thoughtfully, eyes twinkling at his enthusiasm. "I'll do it for you, Jack," she offered. "I'm short a few hundred thousand candles, but I'll do my best," she laughed.

He sputtered. "Well, uh... if you want to, Sugar... who would I be to, uh, protest?" He joined her at the milkshake, taking a quick sip from his straw.

"Just don't tell me when," he took a big bite from his burger, and grinned cheekily at his girl.

...

Time passed. And passed. Eventually Jack forgot about Kaylie's generous offer. Then, one night, he came home a little late from work. It was expected, Kaylie knew he'd be behind her by a couple of hours. She had taken the news surprisingly well, considering she never liked him to work late at the club. When he walked in, he noticed immediately that the apartment was dark, except for a warm glow coming from down the hall. He smirked as he realized what was happening. He kicked the door closed, locked it hurriedly, and set his things down on the island. Stopping at the mirror by the door, he smoothed his hair back and checked his teeth before walking with an exaggerated swagger towards the glow down the hallway.

"Honey," he called out in a comically deepened voice. "I'm home."

He took in the sight as he rounded the door frame into their bedroom. The candles were scattered over every surface in the room. The dressers, bedside tables, window sill, and the wall shelves. Despite all that, what caught and held his eye was on the bed. She laid on her side, facing the door, propped up on one elbow. Kaylie. She looked perfect. Her red hair hung in loose curls around her face, swept over to one side, casting an elegant shade on half of her face. Her lips were bold and red, not her usual style, but striking against her fair skin. And the get-up. An excited smile flashed across Jacks face. She was wearing a long, white, satin nightgown Jack had never seen before, and a matching sheer white robe, trimmed with soft, faux fur. Her nails were even painted a bright red to match her lips.

"Just in time," she purred with an arrogant smile of her own. "Coming to bed?" She patted the bed next to her, invitingly.

"Try to stop me," Jack practically pounced onto the bed, crashing his lips to hers hungrily. He felt a laugh pass between them as she opened her mouth to him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her around onto her back, straddling her legs. She grinned as he sat up, about to pull his shirt over his head, when something near the window caught his eye, and he was struck with a sudden feeling of unease.

One of the candles on the bedside table was precariously close to the curtains, and it was rocking ever closer to them with the commotion on the bed. "We've got to take it easy, Sugar," he stammered, nervous. "Or blow out some of these candles."

He moved to get off of her, but she stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, hey... it's fine, Jack. Don't worry about it," she spoke softly, reassuringly. "Come back to me."

He looked into her soft, brown eyes for a moment, and when he looked back at the candle, it had set the curtain alight. It burned as if in slow motion, not like a curtain should burn. The flames crept up the curtain like it was sneaking up on ceiling. "Kaylie..." he was frozen, staring into the fire. He couldn't move. She wouldn't let him.

"It's okay, Jack," she coaxed. "Let it burn." He looked down at her again, but she'd changed. She was covered in blood and bruises. Her hair matted and wet with her own blood. Her beautiful white gown smeared and spattered with red. Her beautiful face swollen and discoloured. One of her eyes was even swelled shut. "Let it all burn down around us."

She started tugging him down, though he resisted. Despite her gentle demeanor, he was unable to physically resist her for long, and eventually he collapsed into her. She hugged him close and tight, his face buried in her neck. She stunk of copper and smoke as the fire danced across the wall in front of his face. The whole bedroom was burning at this point, pieces of it crumbling around them. "Everything burnt," she whispered, her voice trembling as the flames kicked and lashed at their skin. "You didn't even notice."

...

The Jokers eyes snapped awake and he bolted upright from his desk. The take out menu was still in his hand. He sneered at it and balled his hand into a fist. The food, long gone cold, held no interest to him. He grabbed the paper bag along with the menu and tossed them both into the trash, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet as he did. Irritated, he raked his hands through his stringy, green hair and paced the room, trying to push the dream out of his mind, but he could still smell the fire.

No, no, no, wait. He could still see the fire. He squinted in the direction of his bedroom and tensed. Flickering. Not roaring. No smoke. Just a gentle, delicate flicker. He stalked stiffly towards the door, but stopped short of walking through it. Candles. Too many of them. Illuminating plans, weapons, face paint, and playing cards. And Harley in a black and red teddy kneeling on the bed with a proud grin. "See somethin' ya like, Puddin'?" She cooed.

He snarled, wiping a weathered hand down over his face. He wasn't in any mood for her games tonight. "Well, gee, Harls, now that you mention it, you could hand me that blanket," he barked mockingly, pointing at a dark lump that had been pushed to the bottom of the bed, but not stepping foot into the room.

Harley crumpled. She knew better than to push her luck. Pouting, she hauled the blanket until the one remaining tucked corner popped free, balled it up and tossed it to the door. He caught it before it hit his face. Harley turned away and threw herself onto the bed in a dramatic huff. All she wanted was some attention, and he was the one who was muttering about candles in the other room.

He rolled his eyes and briefly considered shooting her in the spine, before turning on his heel and walking towards the sofa on the far side of his office. "Oh," he called over his shoulder as a harsh afterthought. "Blow those damn things out, will ya? How ridiculous would it be for me to perish in an accidental fire, hmm?"

He smirked to himself as he heard her repeat him in a quiet, whining tone and get up. Then he dropped himself onto the sofa and let the blanket fall to the floor. "Like you could even hold a candle to her, anyway," he grumbled to himself. Then started to chuckle. The chuckling soon erupted into hyena-like cackling.

"A candle!"

...

A/N : Well, it's been a long time coming, but I've finally got a little something for you guys. This will only have 3 chapters, and they'll all be in a similar style. Little things that bring memories crashing down. I'm sorry I never got around to posting the alternate ending. The reason I decided not to do that is because it would have opened it up way too much. Anyone who is super curious about it, feel free to PM me, and I will send you the snippets I have and give you the idea of how it would have gone, but I never fleshed it out at all.

I hope you like this. I hope to have all three chapters up within a month or two, so there shouldn't be any long waits. Enjoy!