A/N: I like this chapter. A little surprise and a cliffhanger. I love it. Much quicker this time, ne?

R&R please and thank you! I do not own Batman and its affiliated characters.

Chapter 10: Lose Control

And that haunted me, all the way home

So you never know, never, never know

Never know enough until it's over love

Till we lose control, system overload

Screaming 'no, no, no, no, no!'

"Love Lockdown," Kanye West

I stepped out of the limo that 'the Batman' sent for me, a direct assumption that he had money. Score one for Harley…er, well, not that I'm keeping tabs or anything…

Let's just get on with this.

It was probably the fanciest restaurant I had ever seen, and I had seen some pretty nice restaurants in my lifetime. From what I had heard about this place, food cost more than some people in Gotham's rent. I suppose that should have bothered me, but when you have more money than you know what to do with, price isn't necessarily an object.

The seating host smiled at me as I walked into the restaurant, obviously looking confused.

I can't say it's one of my most attractive faces.

"Excuse me, miss, are you Harleen Quinzel?" he called.

I turned to face him, relieved, "Yes."

"Your date is waiting for you." He gestured for me to follow him.

I frowned at him, "Do I know you from somewhere?"

He looked surprised, but shook his head, "No, ma'am."

I shrugged it off. Maybe I was just way too tired.

I followed him into the restaurant and finally out onto a private terrace with only one table set for two. A man sat at the table with his back toward me. Still elusive until the very last moment, I see.

The hostess pulled out my chair, and I sat down, looking into the face of…Bruce Wayne.

I can't say I was shocked, but still my face held a total look of surprise nonetheless.

"Hello," he smiled.

"I knew it was you." I said breathlessly, "I knew it!"

"Really? And how did you figure that?" he laughed at my expression.

"I don't know; I just figured that only a rich guy would send me in a limo to a very expensive restaurant in Manhattan. And the only really rich guy I knew of was you, Bruce Wayne! I mean, come on, Bruce, we've known each other since we were children! I'm kind of an idiot for not recognizing your voice." I said, hitting my forehead with my palm.

"I do try to disguise it on purpose, you know." He pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that's beside the point." I said dismissively, "This is such a pleasant surprise. How have you been? I haven't seen you in years! Last I heard you disappeared into the mountains to become a hermit or something."

As he explained his story to me, I remembered when I had met Bruce Wayne. We were children, not yet even 6 years old. Our parents had always gotten along well; our fathers had worked at the same hospital together since before we were even born. I think they had always had it in their hearts for me to marry him. We were nearly the same age and came from the social circle, so I guess it made sense thinking about it now as a 28-year-old rather than a 6-year-old, who still thought boys carried some type of disease and wouldn't want to touch him with a ten-foot-pole.

Then the Wayne's had died. I barely remember the funeral; Maggie had been a toddler at the time. My parents had been quite devastated at the loss. They even offered to take Bruce in for a while, but Alfred, his still elderly butler, assured my parents that he would take good care of him.

The last moment I truly remembered about him was when he had attended my college graduation party 6 years ago. He was already running the Wayne Empire by then, and very successful at it, too. I had felt so inadequate, only graduating college, but I had accepted the prestigious internship to get my doctorate in psychology from NYU.

He and I both had gotten a little tipsy at the party and had kissed once, and turning away quickly, embarrassed as hell. We had practically grown up together. It was then that he told me that he was going off to some foreign land to 'find himself.' I couldn't blame him; he was evidently restless with the corporate environment and needed a break. He had been forced to become an adult at such a young age. He deserved a little rest and relaxation.

"So, why didn't you stay in touch, Harley?" he asked, interrupting my train of thought.

"Oh, well, I knew you came back a couple of years ago, but I figured you didn't want to see me or that you were too busy." I said, flushing a bit, "You do have the whole super hero gig and all."

He raised an eyebrow, "I wouldn't exactly advertise that."

"Sorry," I said quickly, "I mean, what super hero? I don't know any super heroes around here."

"Subtle," he said, face dead-pan.

"Never was one of my specialties." I winked at him.

Really, I just winked. He was going to think I'm a total creep. He probably had like a million girlfriends waiting in his penthouse for him to come back.

He smiled, "I missed you, Harley. I felt like we never had any closure."

"With what?" I asked, puzzled.

"Oh, well, you know the fact that I kind of kissed you and left." He said, sipping his wine, "I apologize for that. For a while, it was all I could think about, to be honest. I guess things just started piling up and I never got a chance to explain myself."

"That's alright." I said reassuringly, "Don't worry about it. I sort of forgot about it, too, with life getting in the way…"

"How are you holding up?"

"Barely," I admitted, "It's still kind of fresh in my mind."

"I hate to be a pessimist, but it really never goes away. I'm almost 30 years old and I still miss them every day. I'm here for you, if you need me." He grabbed my hand, squeezing it.

"That's sweet, Bruce, but I'm alright, really." I smiled thinly.

"Do you want to talk about it? We have time."

"I'm seriously going to cry. Do you want to deal with that?" I leaned back in my chair.

"It's not like I've never seen a woman cry before." He snorted with indignation, "Try me."

"Well, um…where do I begin? My job at Arkham was going so well, until…he…came along. I don't know what the hell I was thinking, letting him loose. I still can't justify in my head why I did it. After my sister died, I had to get out of here." I began.

"Understandably," Bruce interjected.

"Yeah," I affirmed, "Because I thought that he did it – killed her, I mean – but then I just found out that it was her abusive ex-boyfriend. I can't say that that was a load off of my shoulders, but…anyway, I went away to a small town here in New York for a few months and I got engaged…"

"Engaged?" he interrupted, "Whoa, hold up! You're married?!"

"No. I'll explain." I said calmly, "The Joker came back when he found out, and he shot my fiancé, burned the entire church down with almost 100 people inside, including my parents…"

"Oh my God. I had no idea." Bruce shook his head in disbelief, "Now I really have to kill him."

"Don't be too hasty." I said warningly, "I'm handling it. You know that."

"Well, all you told me that he was responsible for your family's death. You never really explained all the fine details." He said, sounding offended.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you everything at first. I didn't want you to do something stupid. I want to be responsible for the elimination of the Joker. You are going to help me, not do it for me."

"I know, I know," he said, "But I just feel like there's something more I could do."

"You are doing plenty." I assured him, "I have to resolve my own issues. You have many more things to worry about."

"Yeah, that's true." He said, downing his wine in one gulp, "This is the first social outing I've had in a very long time."

"Same for me," I said, "That's so pathetic, isn't it? We're just so into our work."

"Amen to that." He said.

The rest of the meal went well. We joked and laughed, the food was fabulous and expensive, and I got a limo ride home. I can say it was pretty nice to be treated like a princess again.

After we arrived at my building, he walked me to the lobby, and while we waited for the elevator awkwardly, I asked, "Um, do you want to come up or something?"

He looked relieved, "I didn't want to ask, but yes, I would."

"Alright," I smiled.

We entered the elevator, silently waiting as it reached my penthouse suite on the top floor. I pulled out my keys and opened the door to my suite.

"I suppose this shouldn't be a surprise since you've seen it before." I teased.

He laughed, "Yeah, I guess so."

He meandered around the room for a few minutes, "You have a great decorator."

"Thanks, I'm really proud of my work." I said, grinning.

"You did all of this?" he said incredulously.

"Well, designed it." I said modestly.

"That's…wow, you've got talent." He said, "I might have to fire my decorator and sign you up for the job."

"I suppose I could give it a shot." I shrugged.

We sat down on my couch, a few feet apart.

"Um, would you like some wine? It always relaxes me." I inquired.

"Yeah, that'd be fine."

I grabbed a bottle from the kitchen, and two glasses. I poured some into each of the glasses and presented one to him.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem."

He looked pensive for a moment, "A toast."

I lifted my glass, giggling, "Ok, to what?"

"To me doing this."

I opened my mouth to ask what he intended on doing, but he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. Ah, so that was what he intended on doing.

Ok, so I am totally kissing the Batman right now.

I'm not freaking out at all.

Ok, fine, maybe a little.

He pulled away, "Oh my God, Harley, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" I smiled, "It's not like it hasn't happened before."

Even he had to offer a half-smile at that, "True…but, ah, I feel like I'm leading you on."

"It's not like we're looking for any sort of relationship or anything." I shrugged.

"Yes, that would look a little awkward, wouldn't it? Me dating a woman who was almost committed for letting the Joker free from Arkham and now lives alone in her penthouse apartment with her murdered parents' trust fund."

"Ok, I get the point." I said shortly.

"Sorry…" he looked sheepish, "And, well, also considering the fact that the Joker might come after me and hack me to pieces only to find out that I'm Batman. My cover would kind of be blown."

"Yeah, that would undoubtedly happen." I agreed, "However, it doesn't mean that there cannot be some covert kisses every now and then."

"I like that idea."

"I figured you might." I laughed.

We then kissed again, even deeper than before. He pushed me backward a little onto the couch, his hands moving further down my chest.

"Um, a bit forward for the first date, isn't it?" I asked.

He sat up, "Oh God, I'm sorry. I lost control for a moment there."

"So did I," I admitted.

"Well…um…" he said awkwardly.

"Maybe we should talk some other time." I filled in.

"Yes, that would be great. I'll see you tomorrow." He stood up.

I followed him to the door of my suite, "Good night, Bruce."

"Good night, Harley." He then kissed me again, nearly making me go weak at the knees, "I hope this date was memorable."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," I said breathlessly.

…

Of course, that night I couldn't sleep for obvious reasons. I couldn't help but feel a bit ashamed of what I had just done not a few hours ago. I sort of felt like I was…cheating. Yet, I wasn't. The Joker and I's relationship was nothing but an act on both ends. He truly couldn't still care about me in that way. At least I hoped so.

I had a feeling of dread seep through me. If he found out about this, I was completely fucked. What Bruce and I were doing was dangerous for the both of us. On one hand, the Joker could go after him and consequently find out that he is Batman, and everyone would go after Bruce. That could not be on my conscience. He was the only savior that this city had, especially since Harvey Dent died almost a year ago. Even though people in Gotham criticize the Batman, he does all the good that this city needs to keep from falling into oblivion.

Or to the Joker.

…

Seven o'clock in the morning reached me as slowly as it always did, and I managed to roll out of bed and make myself a coffee. I sat at my kitchen table, letting the caffeine rejuvenate my sleep-deprived system. I think all the coffee in the world was not going to help me at this point. I was already shaking with nerves. I didn't know how I could keep cool in front of the Joker. That wasn't exactly my strong suit.

As I took my usual cab and stared out at the falling rain, I was reminded of the first time I killed someone, almost a year ago now. I couldn't believe it had been that long. The rain pouring down the face, blended with my hysterical tears. I guess it wasn't a happy memory, but it was something I never forgot.

I opened the door to the Joker's office, what I hoped was a genuine smile plastered on my face.

"So, what did you do last night when you got home?" he asked, his back turned to me.

I froze, racking my brain for a logical response, "I went out with a friend."

"Oh, really…hmm…because a very reliable source told me that you were out with a man last night." He said, calmer than he should have been in this moment.

"Damn it," I cursed under my breath, "I knew that waiter looked familiar."

"Yeah, you remember Johnny." He swiveled around, smiling bitterly, "And he told me that your date was Bruce Wayne."