A/N: I didn't think I'd get another chapter up before the holidays hit, but here it is. Merry Christmas!
Mostly dialogue, unfortunately. Next chapter will be back to normal.
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"Memory is the great deceiver. Perhaps there are some individuals whose memories act like tape recordings, daily records of their lives complete in every detail, but I am not one of them. My memory is a patchwork of occurrences, of discontinuous events roughly sewn together: The parts I remember, I remember precisely, whilst other sections seemed to have vanished completely."
~ Neil Gaiman
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Bruce waited a few minutes so that no one at the party would see him leave with Jack, then pursued his irritated lover out the door. He knew the confrontation to come would be one to rival any that Batman and the Joker had experienced, but he nonetheless felt relieved. Now at least he had some control over what happened, and wasn't just sitting there, waiting uselessly.
He made it back to the penthouse in record time, but Jack had still managed to beat him there.
"Ah, you made it," he acknowledged sarcastically, lounging across one of the armchairs. Bruce could tell by his expression that the unspoken truce they'd had was over.
"So," Jack said silkily, rising from the chair with deadly feline grace. His tone was carefully, studiedly light. Unbidden, the image of a knife wrapped in gossamer sprang into Bruce's mind. "Tell me. Who. The fucking hell. Was. She?"
"I told you," Bruce said, rather more irritably than he'd meant to, "I just met her! The gossip columns were getting suspicious, and when you didn't show up…"
"Oh, so now it's my fault?" Jack growled suddenly, cutting him off. He looked angrier than Bruce had ever seen him. His hands were coiled into fists and he was hunched over, as though ready to pounce.
"I didn't say that," Bruce snapped. He was more annoyed at himself than he was at Jack, for letting this escalate into a full-blown fight again. He just wanted this done.
"Well, what did ya say then?"
"I said," Bruce snarled, "that since I didn't know where you were, I thought it was time to update my disguise! That's all she is, a disguise!"
"Looked awfully friendly for a disguise," he hissed.
"Oh, so that's my fault that she's falling all over me?"
"Well, if you weren't such an idiot playboy!"
"I have to be!" Bruce snapped back. "D'you think I like having half the girls in the city scheming to get me to propose on sight? D'you think I like standing there grinning like an idiot when I could be out doing something useful?" All his anger and frustration, his annoyance at his own uselessness, came pouring out now, in a single great tidal wave of misplaced temper.
"Well if you hate it so much," Jack sneered resentfully, eyes narrowed, "why didn't you just leave? You coulda called me, I was waiting for ya…"
"I would've," Bruce interjected, equally indignantly, "if I knew where to reach you! I mean, what am I supposed to do when I want to talk to you, put a Joker signal on the roof?"
For a long moment, Jack simply stared at him, at a loss, before his thin frame began shaking. It was another long moment before Bruce recognized it as laughter.
"Better start buildin' that Joker signal, Brucey," he giggled finally. "Looks like I hid too well."
Bruce saw the funny side of it and began chuckling as well. Some of the tension in the room eased away.
"Maybe I should ask Gordon where he got his," he suggested, smirking. "He might be able to recommend a supplier or something. I'm glad you're back," he added, now serious. "I missed you, I thought you'd decided it was over…"
"Well, I jus' couldn't let you go," Jack told him sardonically. "Even if I am still pissed at you after our little…spat." He was getting far too addicted for his own good. Sooner or later - probably later - he'd have to end this, or it would go too far and he would be stuck. But not tonight.
"I'm sorry," Bruce said honestly. "It was a stupid thing to say, I should've thought about it first…"
"Well, hacked-up face is just a fact," Jack shrugged, "and I'm no politician, I don't penalize for statin' the facts. Sick sense of humor…that's your opinion, I know a few who'd, ah, disagree. But I'm not crazy."
He wasn't…but he could be. He'd forgotten things before, big things, life-changing things, gone as though they had never entered his brain in the first place. Sometimes things started to slip away, and he could feel them going, and feel that he was walking alone a needle-thin rail, with crazy on one side and genius on the other, waiting to slip and see which one he landed in. Since he'd become the Joker though, things seemed to stay where they were supposed to be. He knew what made the difference: Batman.
The Bat was the keystone that tied it all together, the main focus of his life now. The simple fact that Batman existed defined his own role. If he forgot about this, then he really would be crazy. Screaming, sobbing, gibbering, gnaw your own wrists open, drugged to high heaven crazy. He wouldn't let that happen. He refused to be crazy. Crazy was for other people, people who couldn't handle reality.
Bruce was saying something.
"Huh?" Jack asked with all of his usual tact.
Bruce shook his head, but he was smiling.
"I said, I'm starting to think you really aren't crazy."
"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Bats," he replied sarcastically. "After I go through all the trouble of crashing a party for you…"
"Oh yes, it's such an honor when the Joker gatecrashes."
"Well, if you'd, ah, prefer I didn't show up…"
"I never said that," Bruce said lightly. God, it felt so good just to be able to talk like this, with all the masks off, speaking with almost painful honesty. He was struck yet again by the contrast between the company he'd been keeping only an hour ago and the man he was with now: Jack said exactly what he meant, while the Gotham elite had to circle a point like a hunting shark before they said anything worth listening to. "I'm glad you came tonight. But considering what happened the last time you showed up at one of my parties…"
"Well, I gave 'em all a night to remember," Jack grinned. "They can't say your parties are boring."
"Sometimes," Bruce answered, his voice wry, "I think I could handle a little boring."
That stumped him. There were plenty of things Jack could do, but boring was not one of them. He got the uneasy feeling that Bats knew that too. If this was to continue, Bruce would have to be able to accept that this wasn't and never would be normal, and all expectations to that effect could be left at the door. If this was to continue. And Jack did, absolutely, want it to continue.
He'd have to get a rein on that damn mouth of his then. Most of the time, he could say whatever he felt like. It wasn't as though he actually cared what anybody thought of him, and chances were good that the people he'd just offended would be dead soon anyway. But he didn't want to irritate Batsy too much. He knew it would have to end eventually, but he wanted to keep it going for as long as he could. This mattered.
"There won't be a whole lotta romance," Jack said abruptly, watching him for a reaction. "I jus' don't do the whole, your eyes glitter like… I dunno, like an explosion, type thing. Romance is normally part of the whole dating deal and all, but, uh, frankly… I don't think I can pull off normal."
For a moment, Bruce was simply dumbstruck. Then, it was his turn to begin laughing, much to Jack's annoyance. He'd been trying to take a leaf out of Batsy's book and be serious for once!
"I'm not sure that qualifies as romance," Bruce chuckled eventually, "but I can live without it, either way. And I knew when I became Batman that Normal would be a town in Illinois, not something that could be applied to my life. I will have to date a few starlets to keep up appearances though," he said, more seriously now. "You're going to have to be able to deal with that."
Jack's scarred lips twisted as he scowled. "Fine," he growled reluctantly.
"It's just for show," Bruce told him soothingly, stepping closer. "I just have to make a few public appearances with a model hanging off my arm, that's all."
"That had better be all," Jack glared. "Seein' her hangin' all over you at the party…"
Bruce was struck by a sudden thought.
"How'd you get here ahead of me? I only left a minute or two after you, and I'm pretty sure I broke every speed limit in the city getting here…"
Jack smirked.
"Way to change the subject, Bats. I, ah, borrowed a car."
Bruce couldn't believe his ears. Well, he could, he just didn't particularly want to.
"You stole a car?"
And this had been going so well too, better than he'd been hoping.
"No," Jack frowned, "weren't ya listening? I borrowed it."
"I don't see a difference," Bruce said flatly. "Whatever you call it, it's a crime."
"You're one to talk," Jack said indignantly. Bruce stared at him.
"What do you mean? I don't go around carjacking!"
"Well, you wreck cars all the time, roll right over 'em with your Batmobile thing..."
"It was called the Tumbler," Bruce said wryly. Jack ignored him.
"How can you criticize me when I just borrow 'em? The owner'll get it back eventually, I just use it for the night."
"It's still wrong."
"Bats," he sighed, "compared to all the other stuff I do, you're worried about a little carjacking? I am a criminal, Brucey. If your, uh, morals can't handle that, I might as well jus' leave now."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, defeated. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack had a point. He had caused too much damage himself to go lecturing someone else. Remove the plank from thine own eye first…
"As long as you put it back in the morning," he said grudgingly.
"Oh, and I s'pose you're gonna enforce that?" Jack asked. He still looked none too pleased, but less annoyed now than he had been.
"Only if I have to," Bruce whispered, wrapping his arms around him. He'd had more than enough fighting, he just wanted it finished. "Can't let you off too easy, I wouldn't be doing my job."
"Gotta wonder how this is even working," Jack muttered, returning the embrace. "It's great, but it's just plain weird, even for a guy like me."
"Well, we got through our first fight," Bruce told him. "Plenty of couples never even manage that."
"Truuuuuue. We're not really your, ah, average couple," Jack observed, leaning closer and claiming the Dark Knight's lips. It'd been too long. God, was he ever addicted.
"Too right," Bruce muttered back, but then Jack began kissing him in earnest, and he temporarily forgot that mouths could be used for talking.
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Bruce knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that in a few minutes he would have to get out of bed and get ready to turn the reins over to Batman. For now though, with Jack settled contentedly next to him, one arm draped possessively across his chest, he was simply too comfortable to consider moving.
He shifted, and Jack stirred. His dark eyes took in the rumpled bed sheets, and the various articles of clothing strewn across the room. He smiled languidly.
"Mmmm, what will your fellow aristocracy think?" he chided teasingly, shifting even closer to Bruce. "Caught in bed with the city's resident freak, ya know…" He tutted. "Can't be good for your, ah, image."
"For want of a better way of putting this…" Bruce murmured, one hand settling on Jack's shoulder, "screw them. I really don't care what they think right now." This was his. They had no part in it, any more than they had a say in his life as Batman.
"Mmm, don't wanna screw them," Jack grinned, "wanna screw you."
Bruce decided not to comment on that, but hugged him closer anyway, hands tracing along the scars on his back. He was beginning to remember some of them, and the feel of the distorted skin under his fingertips was oddly soothing. It had been less than a week since he'd last seen Jack, but he had missed this so much, this sense of having someone who could see behind the mask and accepted what he saw. He couldn't help feeling considerably more cheerful than he had a few hours earlier. Strange, that the Joker had gone from being a headache to being a bright spot in an otherwise depressing week. Funny how life worked sometimes.
Funny. Like a clown.
Bruce groaned slightly, head falling back against the pillows.
"What's up, Bats?" Jack asked, smiling lazily. "Bat in the belfry?"
"No," Bruce informed the still-chuckling Joker. "Not a bat. A clown."
"Gooood," Jack purred, kissing him yet again. "This clown doesn't plan on leavin'."
"Good," Bruce echoed, kissing him back. He still had the uneasy feeling that this couldn't last, but for tonight, he would take whatever reassurances he could get.
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I don't need a life that's normal,
That's way too far away.
But something next to normal
Would be okay.
Yeah, something next to normal -
That's the thing I'd like to try.
Close enough to normal
To get by.
~ Maybe, Next to Normal
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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! They're a lovely, guiltless pleasure at a time when my family's hell-bent on filling the house with Christmas cookies. As always, constructive criticism on how I can improve my writing is more than welcome.