AN: Thanks for the lovely reviews as always folks! I don't really have much to add on this one – it's mostly just fluff and nonsense. Enjoy! :)

3: Then.

I slept through the entire day after The Joker rescued me from bedlam. He didn't disturb me. When I woke again, it was dark out. I was in a tiny, but comfortable, hotel suite. It was simply furnished – a dresser here, a wardrobe there. The phone, I noticed, had been ripped from the wall, and television screen was cracked.

I didn't see him, but that didn't worry me. He was near. I got up and found my way to the bathroom. Then I began opening doors. Closet, ironing board . . . stairs. One didn't ordinarily find stairs in a hotel room. I went up. The stairs led me to the rooftop, and a chill breeze swept up my hair and the edge of the shapeless, linen nightgown I'd been given in the asylum. I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest.

My feet were bare. The slate floor was cold under them, but not penetrating. I walked to the very edge of the building and looked down: it was at least twenty stories up. Above the streetlights, and traffic noises, and people. It was quiet. The voices could not reach me as well here. Overhead, a few stars glittered behind the tentative blue-black of a sky just before dawn. I closed my eyes, and peace came to me again. My hands floated out and up, fingers spread, and I listened to the quiet.

"If you're going to jump, you better let me push you. I wouldn't want to break my promise."

I smiled, let my arms drop, and turned my head towards his voice. He wore a lime-green vest over a satin, periwinkle top, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and kelly-green pinstripe trousers. He sauntered toward me, arms crossed.

"Sorry I haven't been better company," I said. "I'm just so tired, I. . ."

He shrugged off my apology. "No surprises there. You were right, you know." I raised an eyebrow. "About love, and chaos."

I grinned wider, and turned fully towards him. "Oh?"

"It was a lot quieter with you gone," he continued, all the while moving toward me. "Easier to think, easier to see clearly. You could almost say 'predictable,' but you know that's not really fair with a guy like me." I chuckled. "Yep. Definitely less chaotic, without you around."

Only a few inches remained between us now. I reached out and took his hand. "I missed you too," I said.

Then he kissed me. Gently this time; something had changed inside him. And as the kiss deepened, I realized that he had stopped fighting me. The resistance to his feelings for me was gone, and in its place was something pure and real. I'd never felt such a thing before. At least not for myself. What was it he always used to tell us? "What doesn't kill you simply makes you stranger." The feeling was strange, coming from him. And yet, he was also stronger. And I, foolish and self-righteous as I was, had assumed it would kill him.

He pulled the linen gown off over my head. I shivered as the cold rushed over my bare flesh, but he took me in his arms, and kissed me again. He laid me down, with the linen gown under us. It was a poor barrier against the hard ground, but his arms and lips were warm. How remarkably tender he was, how different, and yet. . . I gasped when he slid inside me, then shut my eyes and let the ecstasy wash over me. I drank it in, then reflected it back to him until he shuddered with the intensity of the feeling. I stripped him of his vest and shirt; he clutched me to his body and rolled over, pulling me on top of him. He kissed me over and over, murmuring half-formed words into my skin, piercing me delicately with nails and teeth. It was all I could do to keep pace with him. I lost count of the number of times I came. We made love until the sun rose over the rooftops.