Chapter 7: Can't Lead Me Down that Road

I bet you got pushed around

Somebody made you cold

But the cycle ends right now

Cause you can't lead me down that road

And you don't know what you don't know

- "Mean", Taylor Swift

"Oh hey, cunt." I said, dead-pan.

She stopped in her tracks, "Harley. Pamela."

Pam waved weakly, her head still hovering above the potted plant.

"What's her problem?" Barbara asked.

"You make her sick." I replied snidely. Oh yes, burn baby burn. I am feeling myself today.

Barbara narrowed her eyes, "Just as charming as ever."

"Thanks." I simpered.

I then took a moment and looked between Bruce and Barbara, "Oh. OH GOD."

"What?" Barbara gave me a puzzled, wide-eyed stare.

"OH DEAR GOD NO." I repeated, "DEAR JESUS, NO."

"Is she broken?" Pamela looked up. She smacked me on the back, "Harley, you're stuck on surprise mode."

"No," I smack-waved at her to get her off of me, "Don't you get it? Bruce comes here, and then Barbara comes here right after, ALONE. Alone, i.e. sans Dick Grayson, I presume?" I looked back at the two culprits.

Their silence was deafening.

"EW GOD WHY!" I shouted again.

Justin opened the door and stepped out, "What the hell is going on here?"

"Bruce Wayne fucked her!" I said, pointing at the two of them, who both immediately went scarlet, "He's a sick stupid motherfucker! And a liar and cheater!"

Pam raised an eyebrow, "Harley, we're in public."

"This is the most awful thing. AWFUL. You two should be ashamed of yourselves, so ashamed. You're both terrible people. Pam, we have to go. I can't bear to look at the two of them anymore. I just can't. Justin, you can have him and deal with whatever bullshit, I don't care. God help all of you, really." I couldn't stop at this point, I felt my rage boiling up inside me.

I stared at Bruce dead in the eyes, "You are the worst human being. You really are. When I think you stop hurting people, you just keep right on doing it."

"Stop." He said quietly.

"No, you stop. You stop being such an asshole." I poked him hard in the chest, "You stop being such a fucking dick and ruining everyone's lives. WOW. You cannot ever just let people be happy, can you? You have to go and muck things up over and over again. You know what, when me and the Joker reign as the king and queen in Hell, you can come step right up and take a fucking seat next to us! Glad to have you. BECAUSE YOU SUCK. YOU SUCK SO HARD."

Justin pulled me back, away from Bruce, and I started kicking the air, "Let me at him! I will strangle the life out of him!"

"There will be none of that today." Justin said, frustratingly calm.

"You're good in times of stress. Will serve you well as a father." Pam commented, "Harley, let's get out of here. You're making a scene."

"You're goddamn right I'm making a scene! He deserves the shame! THE SHAME! Pamela, get that fucking nun from Game of Thrones out here and shame him!"

Pam looped her arm through mine and shoved me back down the stairs, "We are going, and that's final. You're acting like a damn fool."

"I just cannot believe him. How could he be that stupid?" I seethed, breathing heavily, "I am furious."

"No kidding. Couldn't tell."

"Don't be cute, Pam, this is just the shittiest thing ever. Aren't you pissed at them?"

"Why would I have the right to be pissed at them? They're stupid."

"You loved Barbara."

"That's a bit extreme. I cared for her but she betrayed me. When I see her, I'm dead inside. That's how I handle my pain. I think you could try a little of that instead of being a nutbag."

"Speaking as a former psychiatrist, not the best idea." I pointed out, "I think it's better to express your emotions and just put it all out there."

"You don't say." She said wryly.

I flipped her off. She rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, I'm just so over him and his bullshit." I fumed, stomping down the stairs, "How are you not more upset right now? You did just confront the father of your child."

"I'm more worried about vomiting."

"Compartmentalizing. Smart move."

She shrugged, "At this point, I have to worry more about the little nugget growing inside of me."

I stared at her, "That's weird as hell hearing you say that."

"Yeah, I know." She smiled warmly, touching her stomach, "Speaking of, I have to make a doctor's appointment while we're here. Do you want to come with me?"

"You don't want Justin there?"

"I mean, not until he even claims ownership of this. I have to get the paternity test. At this point, you can be my surrogate baby daddy."

"I did not think that would ever be a term that anyone would call me, but I am just going to roll with it. You know I'll come with you to any doctor's appointment, anything you need."

"Thanks." Pam put her arm around me, "You feeling better?"

"I just…I am just infuriated."

"I hadn't noticed." She commented, suddenly looking incredibly interested in her phone.

"Ah ha ha," I barked, "God, this day seriously cannot get any worse."

She side-eyed me, "Are you joking?"

"Oh geez, my b. You are definitely having a super awful day. I am so self-centered." I said, putting my arm around her and squeezing her shoulder.

"At least you're self-aware."

...

We hopped in a cab at LAX – just kidding, just kidding – it was outside the building, and headed back to the hotel.

When we walked in the door, I called out, "Babe?"

No response.

Pam peered into the bedrooms, "No sign of him. Hasn't he been gone since like last night?"

"Yeah, but that's pretty normal when he's on a job." I shrugged, plunking my ass on the couch.

"Do you want to at least text him?" she inquired, putting her purse down on the armchair.

"Eh, that's kind of useless. He won't be able to answer if he's in the middle of something." I said, fiddling with my phone.

When I looked up, Pam was staring hard at me.

"What?" I asked.

"What is your deal?"

"I have no deal."

"Did you guys have a fight or something?"

"Not in the last 24 hours, no."

"That doesn't bode well." She remarked.

"Dude, we fight all the time. It's kind of our thing, really." I said, switching channels absent-mindedly.

She sat down next to me, "Why are you trying to avoid your problems?"

"I'm not." I said stubbornly, "I am just not going to bother him when he's out doing Joker-y things. He could get compromised."

"I guess…" Pam sighed, "Have you guys really sat down and talked about your intimacy issues?"

"UMM, no." I replied, "I really don't feel like talking about that right now, especially with you. It's not really your business."

"Something must really be going on if you don't want to tell me about it."

"Pam, honestly, if I told you the real reason, you would really hate me. He would really hate me. I already hate myself for thinking it."

"You know you can tell me anything." She said, grabbing my hand.

I pulled it away, "No, not this. It's better off I work it through in my own head before I say the wrong thing."

She stared at me long and hard for a moment, and then stood up, "Fine, ok. If you want to talk about it, I am here. You know that."

"I do." I said, meaning it.

"Well, I'm going to take a nap. I am emotionally and physically drained from this day. You going to be ok?"

"Yeah, I'll find a marathon of something mindless."

"Good girl." She said, and disappeared into her room, closing the door.

I did settle on a Friends marathon, and then ended up falling asleep myself after about 20 minutes.

I woke up to a buzzing sound from my phone, which was on the coffee table in front of me. I wiped at my eyes groggily, and then picked it up to see who had texted me. It was not the Joker, but that stupid dumb shit Bruce Wayne. What could he possibly want?

I opened the text.

'Sorry about earlier.'

Oh, that asshole. Just tantalizing enough to respond.

I debated not responding. I really did.

'It's fine. It was sort of a charged situation.'

'I know. Barbara is really pissed at me.'

'Honestly, I don't care.'

'I know you don't. I was texting you to see if you would join me for a drink later. Murphy's on 7th. I just got some bad news.'

I froze, not sure what to say. What kind of bad news?

'I don't think it's a good idea. He wouldn't be happy if I did that.'

'I figured you would say that. If you change your mind, I'll be there around 10 PM.'

I sent a thumbs up emoji, and that ended the conversation.

I deleted the message thread from my phone for extra precaution. I had to admit, I was concerned. I felt like Bruce wouldn't want to risk meeting up with me unless it was something really bad. But, on the other hand, he could be lying. He's a sneaky little prick like that.

I had some hours to ponder this, so I turned back to my Friends marathon in the hopes that it would distract me. It mostly did, because Ross is awful and I could redirect my anger on him. HE'S AWFUL. DON'T FIGHT ME ON THIS.

Anyway, Pam woke up about an hour later, and we determined that the best course of action was copious amounts of food, so we headed to a Thai place around the corner from the hotel and gorged ourselves on some greasy noodles.

Pam, in her never-ending quest to combat nausea, decided to go to bed around 11 to avoid not throwing up. She had placed a small garbage can next to her bed in case the baby declared war on her stomach again.

I waited for about 15 minutes, and debated on just going to bed myself.

But then I thought about Bruce's text.

It gnawed at me and gnawed at me until I felt the urge to just get up, put on my jean jacket, and head out into the night. I left Pam and the Joker a note to let them know I was going to the corner store. I couldn't be gone long, in case the Joker came back and was pissed that I wasn't there.

I walked down to 7th, and passed the window for Murphy's, suddenly thinking that was the worst idea I'd ever had. I should just turn around.

Then I saw Bruce sitting at the bar, very deep into a glass of scotch. He looked utterly miserable. And my soft, bleeding heart got the best of me.

I walked inside; the bar was pretty empty except for Bruce and a couple tables of small groups chatting. I headed up to the bar, and sat down next to him. He barely even looked up from his drink. He was totally hammered. He must have moved fast on that scotch; it had barely been an hour.

The bartender came over to me, "What can I get for you, miss?"

"Vodka cranberry." I said, and went into my purse to get my debit card.

Bruce put his hand over mine that was holding the card, "Put it on my tab, Dan."

"No problem, Mr. Wayne." The bartender said, and put my drink down in front of me.

"Thanks," I said.

Bruce was quiet for a moment, and then said, "You came."

"That's what she said."

Bruce looked up at me, deadpan, "Why must you be this way?"

"You were just so serious. I had to do something." I shrugged, "Now, I don't have a lot of time, so just spill your guts and I'll be on my way."

"Jesus, Harley." He said, sighing deeply.

"I need more information than that."

He didn't look like he was amused by my glibness.

"Have you looked at Instagram today?"

That question threw me off, "Ummmmm…no?"

He wordlessly took out his phone, and scrolled through the Instagram feed and then shoved the phone in my face. The picture was of a hand with a big-ass engagement ring on it.

The user's name in the photo was 'catladykyle'. Oh well, shit. Also, she's not subtle. That username was not fooling anyone. But hey, time and place, time and place.

"Ah. I see what the bad news was."

He basically chucked his phone onto the floor, and it clattered against the barstool. I cringed, and bent down to pick it up.

"I take it you're not hashtag thrilled about the news?" I asked. Man, I was a cheeky little bitch today. I owe myself a cookie or something.

His eyes were bloodshot when he looked back at me, "No, let's just say I will not be attending the wedding of her and her…" he slugged back his scotch, "…farmer."

"Yikes." I said, not knowing what else to say, "I hope Pam hasn't seen this."

"Are you more worried about how she feels than how I feel?" he snapped.

"Um, have we met? Of course I am more worried about her. She's my best friend, and you're my ex-fiancé slash toolbag. It's not even comparable. Why are you even so upset anyway? It's not like you guys were together."

"She's still the mother of my child, with whom I have an ongoing fucking custody battle." His eyes then widened when he realized what he had said.

"Ohhhh so that's why you were at Justin's. He's helping you with custody of Edward." Now it all made sense.

"Yes. This is all so goddamn complicated." He glanced at me, "As usual, with your crew of misfits."

"Hold up, Selina is not my 'crew', as you call it. Not so, Francisco." I waggled my finger at him, "I never have and never will be in charge of what Selina 'cuntbag' Kyle does in her free time. If she wants to marry a doofus farmer from Wyoming, let her. She'll leave him in a month anyway. You know how she is. She loves the chase but not the consequences."

His silence disturbed me.

"Do you still love her?" I asked, point blank.

The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

"You have to tell her." I said.

"I will not do that."

"Why not?"

"I am not ruining her life because I have a feeling." Bruce waved the bartender over and made a pouring motion with his hand.

"Um, I don't think you need more. How deep are you in?"

"I don't even know at this point." He straight-up giggled. GIGGLED to himself. He was cracking.

Somehow I thought I would delight in this, to see him in so much agony. But instead, it bothered me. It made me a little sad, really. I hated that I felt that way. I should wish him the worst, but yet I still didn't. Something about Bruce made me soft inside, as much as it pained me to admit. He was a part of my emotional past that I could never seem to get over. I didn't love him anymore; that much was plain. However, I did want to see him be happy, because in a weird way, that would at least make him leave me alone. We had the most utterly complicated bullshit relationship that anyone could ever dream up.

The bartender put the next glass of scotch down and Bruce went to take it. I put my hand in the way, "Whoa, now."

He glared at me, "Let me drink to forget."

"I will not do that in good conscience. I think you should go home." I suggested.

"I cannot go home. Alfred will judge me."

"I think Alfred has done enough judging for a lifetime with you."

"I cannot go home alone."

"It's no different than any other day."

Bruce was clearly not in the mood for my sass today, so I figured I'd tone it down.

"Bruce, just go home and get some sleep. This isn't helping."

"It's helping temporarily, and that's all I need at the moment." He chugged about half the glass. He cringed, "That still doesn't go down any smoother than I thought it would after this many."

I sighed, and looked at my phone. It was half past midnight. I had been gone almost an hour. No text from Jay though.

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Is he asking where you are?"

"Actually no, he hasn't talked to me all day, not that that is any of your concern."

"Trouble in paradise?" he was giggling again. It was getting weird up in here.

"Ok, I am making an executive decision here. My hotel is a few blocks away. You can sleep on the couch. That way you are not alone and you can sleep it off."

"I am not doing that." He slurred, shaking his head.

"Yes, you are. You live too far away from here anyway. Is your driver outside?"

"No, I told him to fuck off."

"Good call."

Whoops. Couldn't really hold off my sass very long.

"Ok, fine. I will go with you. As long as he's not there."

"I can't make any promises, but I don't think it will matter to you much longer because you're going to forget we ever had this conversation."

"Ha ha…" he was starting to slump.

I propped him up, "Mm mm, sir. Not falling off a barstool on my watch." I held him up, "Let's go."

"Mmkay." He said into my boob, "I miss these. Selina is just like…flatsville."

"Let's not." I said irritably, opening the door to go back outside, "Aren't you with Barbara anyway?"

"Oh God, no." he shook his head way too vehemently, "No, no, no."

"That's a lot of no's."

"Barbara is pissed at me."

"For good reason, I presume. Turn here." I instructed as we rounded the corner.

"Yeah, Barbara and I…God, it was such a mistake." He said, exhaling deeply, "It was really stupid of me."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"You want to know the position or something?"

"Ok, now it's your turn to be catty?" I thought about it for a moment, "Ooh, sorry, poor choice of words. My bad."

"It's fine. Anyway, Barbara and I were out on a mission one night – her and Dick were fighting, I think. Something about the hors d'oeuvres at the wedding, the fuck if I know. They were just fighting a lot lately about the wedding stuff."

"I keep forgetting that they're getting married." I remarked. To be honest, I completely forgot. I don't pretend to be a good person, y'all.

"It's hard for me to forget. They're so annoying. And they bring it up when we're supposed to be out fighting crime…like, why? Not the time and place for that."

"Sure."

"Anyway, they got into a particularly nasty one that evening and I was getting on Barbara's case because she handled this one mission super poorly. Total mess. She got way too emotionally involved in this missing girl case; turned out it was her boyfriend and he beat the shit out of her and killed her accidentally. Mafia guy, a real douchebag. Barbara for some reason took it so personal and she went over there and just obliterated him. Shot him like 18 times."

"Jesus Christ."

"I know. I told her she can't do shit like that." Bruce paused as we had gotten to the hotel front door. I pushed him through the revolving door, and he stumbled out of it into the lobby.

I looked at the hotel front desk guy, some young 20's-looking hipster with a bowtie, "Could you get the elevator for us?"

He looked thrilled as I am sure this was probably the most exciting thing to happen to him all day, "Of course, ma'am!"

MAAM. EWW.

Anyway, I shoved Bruce into the elevator and hit the button for our floor, "Continue."

"So, I met her on this rooftop to explain why we can't do shit like that, because we're supposed to be the good guys and we just want to put these people in jail, not kill them."

"Man, you and Jay have entirely different philosophies." I remarked.

He gave me a dead-pan look, and continued, "It got heated. She started pushing me on the chest, and I didn't want to hit her. I don't like hitting women, of course. I let her shove me and she tripped and we fell down. We were just lying there, staring at each other. And…things just got out of control. She kissed me, I kissed her…it went too far."

I was quiet.

"Nothing snarky to say?" he asked in surprise.

"You know how I feel about cheating very well, Bruce."

"I never-"

"You did, and that's all I have to say. We're moving on."

He stared at me for a long moment, and then said, "Ok, so we fucked up. We did. It was both of our faults. And now we have to hide this from Dick. It would crush him if he found out."

"You're never going to tell him?"

"I just don't think that would be advisable. I will not tell him. If Barbara wants to, that's on her. I am going to move on and just pretend like nothing ever happened. Barb wants to do the same."

"Morally ambiguous." I shrugged, "I can't say I've never been in the same position."

"In that you have sex with a murderer?"

"Or not enough." I muttered to myself.

"What?" he was starting to slur again.

"Let's just get you inside." He leaned against the wall as I opened the door. He looked at me with this very familiar smile, "This reminds me of our weekend trip to Vermont. You remember that hotel?"

"Yeah, it was nice." I said, fiddling with the key card.

"We were so drunk when we got back to our room."

"Yes, we were." I said hesitantly, "Not exactly the same situation."

I opened the door and pulled him inside, helping him onto the couch, "Do you want some water?"

"Yeah." He said, trying in vain to take off his shoes.

I rolled my eyes, "Let me help you." I squatted down and untied his shoes, and took both of them off, "Better?"

"Yes." He smiled and he got that same look in his eye, "God, Harley, I've missed you."

"We're not going down that road to hell." I said, abruptly standing up., "No, thanks."

"I am not going to have sex with you." He said, trying to sit up, but falling immediately back down into the pillow with a thud.

"I don't think you could even get it up in this condition." I had to laugh a little.

"I totally could."

"I think you'd fall asleep first." I went into the kitchen and poured him a glass of water from the Brita filter in our fridge. I handed it to him, "Please drink this and go to sleep. I'll order you some breakfast in the morning."

"Thanks, mom." He joked.

"That's not a way to keep your couch privileges."

"Oh, so you'd put me in your bed?" he attempted to wriggle his eyebrows and failed so hard. It was almost cute.

"Go to sleep."

"Fine."

"Good night."

"Good night to you." He said, almost spilling his water in the process of waving to me.

I closed my door behind me, and changed into my pajamas. What a goddamn night.

I collapsed into my bed, and fell asleep pretty quickly.

Unfortunately, my wake-up call was less inviting.

"What the fuck is Bruce Wayne doing in my living room?!"