So first, an apology. I don't have a good enough excuse except that I've been busy and distracted and have lacked motivation. All I can say is I'm sorry.

This bit is for anyone who's seen THE DARK KNIGHT RISES, SO STOP READING THIS BIT IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT. SERIOUSLY, JUST SKIP STRAIGHT TO THE STORY RIGHT NOW. RIGHT NOW. Obviously, this is an AU and at the end of this fic (and I do hope I reach the end for everyone but especially myself because God, I would love to finish something), it will be obvious as to why things played out the way they did. If not, well - I should be able to explain.

Um, so yeah. Tell me what you think. Feel free to critique (because this needs it) and again, I'm sorry. I'll try to do better next time.

ONWARD!

-11-

The next week passed quickly, mainly because the ONE thing I was really looking forward to didn't happen. In case it's not obvious, I'll admit that although Bruce did call, we could not set up a date for that week. Our schedules just didn't agree. He promised to call and I hoped he would.

My dinner on Tuesday with Chris and his family was great. His wife, Maria, cooked and I played with his kids, and while Chris put them to bed, Maria and I talked. It was refreshing to meet someone new and so different. There was coffee and cake, and then goodbye's and promises of revisiting.

Wednesday was okay. The Joker had gotten himself into some trouble and our would-be-usual appointment was cancelled. I used the time to speak with Megan Trojeck (that first patient whose first interview I totally screwed up, remember?) and I found out that boyfriend she killed had been cheating on her. Soon afterwards, she began trashing the room and I had to call security.

Bruce called on Thursday and we had a nice chat. Maegen tried to call me on Friday but I ignored it. I know I'm being childish (possibly) but I'm honestly still too hurt to care. I went for a nice, long run after I missed her call in an attempt to rid myself of the frustration.

The weekend happened. I spent it watching Supernatural reruns and cleaning.

I got another call from Bruce on Monday, and we found that this week wasn't a go either. The best day would have been Wednesday but I knew after my lack of meeting with the Joker, he would try to make up for it so I had to decline. I went for another run after that.

Tuesday night, I sat alone in my apartment with a cup of tea and the TV on. I was waiting patiently for Glee to start. It wasn't a new episode but a guilty pleasure, and I deserve it. And I was enjoying it too—until THE MOST mood changing thing EVER happened.

The thud that came from outside my window made me want to vomit from anxiety. Someone was on my balcony—on my balcony! Who would—

Jesus fucking Christ.

Annoyed, I muted the TV and moved from my spot on the couch to the wall of windows. With my heart still racing, I pushed the curtains aside and confirmed my suspicions.

My body sagged and after wiping at my face, I unlocked the door and opened it, allowing access to the being that was seemingly waiting to be invited in.

He moved almost immediately at the unspoken invite, being more silent than I thought possible. I slid the door shut after a moment, the fall breeze too cool for my liking. I then proceeded to walk past the man to sit back in my seat. There was no point in trying to be formal or okay so I instead forced myself to be comfortable.

He didn't say anything for a moment and then I realized it was because he was looking at my TV. Mercedes and Santana were doing a number together and when I looked back at him, he looked at me and I softly bit out, "Don't judge my Glee."

He ignored that and said, "My sources tell me that you're the head psychiatrist for the Joker."

"What of it?" I asked, annoyed that it was a statement that was hard to follow up with. Why can't he just ask what he wants to ask? It's not like I'm going to lie or run away.

"The Joker is a dangerous man," he began, voice gruff and low, "Do you really think you're up for the job?"

"Well, I agreed to it, didn't I?"

"You did."

And then he didn't say anything, he just turned to leave. The glass door made an icky sound as it opened and he was polite enough to close it. I watched from my spot on the couch as he climbed onto the ledge, and jumped. Even though I knew he would be fine (it's Batman), it didn't stop my heart from racing or my mind from thinking that he was going to die.

The man behind that mask is suicidal. It takes some sort of mindset to be able to just jump off of a ledge like that, to know that maybe something could happen and you could die. He was fucking insane, but there was more to it than that. I mean, he came to visit me and if you look past the non-questions, he was making sure I was okay, that my choices were my own.

I'm always such a bitch to him. Maybe I should be more careful next time—if there's a next time.

Needless to say, when I saw the Joker that next day, I really wasn't in the mood. The Joker was doing his whole non-talking stint and I took the opportunity to really understand the severity of the man and this situation.

I knew from the files and his words that he was dangerous. There's no other way to put. He put people into strange scenarios and people died if they didn't win, and people died if they didn't play. All of his actions led to death and he had a thing for fire. And besides words that made me shiver and want to vomit, he hadn't actually done anything to me.

What if, because of this, I'm really not the one for the job? I mean, I really don't understand. I don't understand this man and I can only interpret his actions and make assumptions.

"You're thinking too much," he suddenly says, bringing me back to the room. His dark eyes stemming and prying into my being, but I didn't find myself uncomfortable. I was just unaffected, which made me worry and think more on the predicament. "Do ya need to share?"

I pouted my lips at that. I didn't have anyone to share with, and there was no one I wanted to share with. It's just me and my thoughts and concerns, and that's not really fair.

"Just thinking," I finally say, lifting my pen and letting out a large sigh. There was nothing else to say, but that didn't stop him from continuing to stare at me.

"Do you wanna share?" I fired back, trying to give him the same scrutinizing look he was giving me. It didn't work, and that became very apparent when he smirked at me. Yes, smirked.

It was closer to seven when I finally got to my apartment. The weather was really starting to change, and then I remember how far north I was, and then I was berating myself for not remembering. And I was so distracted by the weather, that I almost didn't realize that the lights in my apartment were on, and that I familiar figure was sitting on my couch.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Maegen—she looked immaculate. Even from this poor angle, it was obvious. She was dressed in a black suede jacket and form fitting jeans, a pair of nude Manolo Blahnik high heels adorning her pedicured feet. Her hair was shorter than I remembered, ending at the same length as the collar of her coat, and was pin straight. And when she turned to acknowledge my presence, I saw that her facial features were perfectly highlighted by her light layers of makeup.

The snap of the door broke me from my frozen stupor and I realized I was trapped. I could run away—

"Hi," Maegen said as she rose to stand, her movement fluid and graceful. She sounded timid, which sincerely surprised me, but my eyes immediately wandered to her midsection. Beneath her simple shirt, I thought I saw a bit of a bump—a baby bump. But then I realized that I was staring pretty hard and that I was probably imagining it, because it's not like I even know how far along she really is and—

"Hey," I respond, looking into her baby blues. My arms fall to my side (because for some reason, I had them up poised up when I entered) and I put down my bag at the closet door. I was stiff and I was fidgeting.

Oh, this is bad. So bad. Very bad.

"What are you doing here?" I finally ask as I straightened. I didn't really move from my spot though, too afraid of what would happen if I got closer.

"Um, we were going to have dinner." My brows furrowed at that. "I left you a voicemail last week." OH GOD, I NEVER LISTENED TO IT. "You never replied so I just assumed that it was doable."

I had no response or reasoning to share, so I said nothing.

She pushed up the sleeve of her jacket to view her watch, and then smiling she said, "You're a bit late but we can still find someplace—"

"How did you get in?" I interrupted, only mildly worried about my rudeness. I set my arms to cross in front of me but I kept my gaze on her.

"My name's on the lease—" DAMMIT, I FORGOT THAT TOO. "—so they gave me a key. Is something the matter?"

"You're pregnant. Like, pregnant pregnant. There's a baby in your stomach that you didn't tell me about, and oh, YOU'RE PREGNANT."

But I didn't say that. In fact, I didn't say anything. I merely frowned and let my tentative gaze fall to the side.

"I'm pregnant."

At the happily toned declaration, my vision snapped back to her and I saw that she was smiling. It was a faltering smile that I couldn't return. Even if I wanted to fake that there really was nothing wrong, that smile let me know she knew.

"I know."

Her face contorted and she gave a playful grimace. She nodded a bit and finally said, "I figured."

We then fell into a rather tense silence, where I stared at her and she stared at the floor.

If this was anyone else, I would've thought they were ashamed or embarrassed—but this was Maegen. Maegen doesn't feel those things. Harsh, I know, but she really doesn't. Sometimes she has vague inclinations of what it means to feel ashamed but everything about it is short term. If I were any other physiatrist who didn't know Maegen, they would say that she was covering those emotions with humor and was therefore more embarrassed, but I know Maegen. Maegen is one of the few people I know that actually has complete control over her life and doesn't allow others to dictate her actions unless she wants them to, which is probably why this betrayal stung so much. It was a conscious decision.

"Do you think we can talk about this over dinner? I'm getting really hungry."

"I'm not really hungry right now," I say with a shake of the head. Her eyes widen fractionally but I ignore that as I continue to speak. "I've had a long day and I've got work tomorrow. It's probably not a good idea that I go out tonight."

"Oh-kay." She visibly swallowed and fumbled as she reached back to the couch. She lifted a thin box and stretched out her arm to me. "I got you this."

I didn't move for a moment, wondering if I should. Her presenting the gift in such a manner was a rather desperate plea for me to approach and if I didn't approach, I'm not sure what the rejection would do to the both of us and this situation. So, vowing to be better of the two of us no matter what, I propelled myself forward.

The heels had made her taller than me, almost a full six inches, and I felt ridiculously small and sloppy as I stood so close. I took the box from her but didn't open it. "Thank you," was all I said as I placed the gift back on the couch.

"Do you want to talk about this?" she suddenly blurted, letting her cool demeanor go. The one she replaces it with is the loud counterpart and the pressure of her attitude hits me on a physical level.

"Sure! Why not! " I bark back, my volume matching hers.

And then our yelling match commenced.

So, leave a review, yeah, maybe?