A/N: Hello, everyone. I'm extremely sorry that it's taken me so long to post again. My life has been crazy hectic and remains so, but I simply didn't want to neglect my story any longer. So here's Chapter Ten. I hope that everyone enjoys! ~G

Chapter Ten: My Girl

As Gwen drove home from work that day, she found herself stewing over the cryptic actions of Mr. Bruce Wayne. First, there was that confrontation at Wayne Enterprises. Then he showed up at Swann's trial (and why did he do that, anyways? Fox is the CEO of the company, not him!), asked to talk to Gwen, and then had basically nothing to say. He'd also interrupted Gwen's conversation with Rachel Dawes to talk to her. Reeva had told Gwen once that Rachel and Bruce were childhood friends. Was it possible that Bruce was trying to make Rachel…jealous? Gwen rolled her eyes. What did a playboy like Bruce have to gain by making one little lawyer jealous? Unless of course…

Just as Gwen was pulling into the parking garage, her cell phone started vibrating. She always made sure to turn off the ring while she was at work, and usually just ignored it when her phone went off. She pulled into a guest parking place off the garage entrance, not about to try to navigate the garage while talking on the phone, and answered.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, Gwennie." It was the Joker. "Have any police homework to do?"

"What? No…no, I'm not doing anything."

"Then mosey on over to the Lovin' Oven on Twelfth Avenue. It's about time I met my girl for dinner, don't you think?" The line cut off before Gwen could respond.

"'My girl?'" Gwen asked herself as she backed out of the parking place again and set off for the Lovin' Oven. Although she found it odd that the Joker had just referred to her as such, she realized with a jolt that she didn't actually mind.

Gwen arrived at the Lovin' Oven about fifteen minutes after the Joker called. When she went in, she was surprised to see the same boy working the counter that had been there when she'd come to pick up Robin Bank's cake, back in the days of the ARG. The bakery was empty. She walked up to the counter and said,

"I'm, ah, here to see--"

Before she'd even finished her sentence, the boy, who was probably in his late teens, lifted up a segment of the counter so she could pass through. Once she was behind the counter, he pointed her towards the kitchen door and resumed his post at the cash register. With one more hesitant look, she opened the gleaming metal doors and stepped through into the kitchen.

The kitchen didn't seem to be in any sort of active mode; Gwen assumed that everything that was to be baked that day was already out in front. The countertops were all dusted in a fine coat of flour, but were devoid of any ingredients. Everything had clearly been safely stored away until tomorrow. If it weren't for the flour, she wouldn't have guessed that this kitchen had been in use for several days. In the back of the kitchen, a small table was laid out, complete with a small bouquet of flowers, placemats, utensils, and two plates of devil's food cake. The Joker was seated in the chair at the right, and he beckoned for her to join him in the chair to the left.

"My dear Gwen," he said when she was seated, half-murmuring to himself. "You've finally arrived."

"Yes," she nodded.

"So, ah…how's your new job going?" the Joker asked, taking a bite out of the cake before him as he spoke. Hesitantly, Gwen took a bite out of hers as well. It was delicious. "Made any new friends?"

"I've met some nice people, yes."

"Like who?"

"Well, let's see…Lieutenant Gordon is very kind, of course. I've also met Stephens and Wuertz, the detectives, and my mentor's name is Ramirez."

"Wuertz…" the Joker paused, seemingly pondering something. His eyes lit up with clarity. "Wuertz. Yes. I think I know your buddy Wuertz. And what was your mentor's name? Ramirez?"

"That's her."

The Joker chuckled, a bit ominously. "Who knows? Before long, I might know Ramirez, too."

They ate in silence for a couple of moments. Then, Gwen said, "I notice you've laid off the ARG lately."

"Yes, yes, I admit it, I have. What can I say? Opportunity knocked, and I answered."

Gwen paused for a moment. "Opportunity? As in, some guy offers to sell you Lucius Fox's e-mail address?"

The Joker grinned. His gloved hand snaked across the table and grasped Gwen's. "I heard you were involved in that one, Gwennie dear. After all, you are my psychoanalyst. Can't expect the GPD to leave you at home, no matter how dangerous the situation may be."

"Well, I had to do my job," Gwen responded. "Hey, J, can I ask you something?"

"Would I say no?"

Gwen didn't answer that. "Not that I would have preferred that you did this, but….why didn't you plant the bomb at Wayne Enterprises, anyways? That really threw me, I have to say."

The Joker cackled, his laughs echoing off the walls of the kitchen. Gwen hoped they were soundproof. He gripped her hand even tighter as he shook with mirth. Once he'd recovered, he said,

"It's simple, really, beautiful. Life's a joke, and why would I miss an opportunity to laugh at it?"

"…So was that it? You just wanted to screw around with the cops?"

The Joker paused for a moment, his face growing serious. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, I do."

"…I had to figure out whether or not they'd send you into the line of fire if I was causing trouble."

"Why did you need to know that?"

"Use your head," the Joker insisted. "If you're in the line of fire, am I going to shoot?"

Suddenly everything clicked in Gwen's head. He was planning his actions around the amount of danger it would place her in, on whether the GPD would send her in to investigate or not. He had sent the Wayne Enterprises bomb threat to test out what the police would do with Gwen. He was creating chaos…so that she would be safe.

Gwen sat in stunned silence for several moments before letting out a half-choked laugh. "I don't know whether I should be flattered or not."

The Joker laughed at that, a quieter, more controlled laugh this time. With his free hand, he reached out and brushed a lock of Gwen's hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the side of her face. Quietly, he said,

"You are one amazing clown."

A/N: That was a pretty long chapter, but I dearly hope that it was up to par. As I've said before, making the Joker sound like himself but still say what he needs to say is a real challenge, especially in a scene like this. Do you think that I've nailed him again? Next chapter, you can look forward to learning the Joker's next move. Until then! ~G