A/N: Sorry for the little hiatus; college consumes my life and I had a bit of writer's block. Enjoy!

I don't own these characters.

Chapter 2: Broken Lover

Broken lover, yes I made you

Believe that I would be the one to heal you

And if you go now, out that doorway

I won't say you're wrong

But you know that I'll worry about you

"Worry About You," 2AM Club

Bruce and I agreed to meet outside the newly renovated Wayne Manor. He had since added a greenhouse and gardens to his vast complex, as I could see when I pulled up in the car that the Joker and I shared, a beat-up Chevy of undetermined age or origins. All I know is that the Joker hijacked it, and somehow got someone to make copies of the keys. I felt sort of bad for whoever he stole it from; although, on the other hand, I'm pretty sure they were happy to be rid of it and collect on the insurance. It was, let's be honest, a piece of shit.

How come everything in my life has gone from luxury to literally falling apart?

Whatever. I had to deal with it.

I parked in the side garage (not the main one, because that's where Bruce kept his Lamborghini and his Maserati. Damn, I missed riding around in those things.

I called Bruce, let it ring once, and hung up. It was the prearranged signal. I then went into my phone and deleted the history of our phone calls and texts. No evidence, no Harley getting in trouble. Referring to myself in the third person is a little creepy, I apologize.

I stood in the garage, waiting for Bruce. It was a bit eerie, being there at night like this. It made me feel kind of like an intruder…even though I basically used to call this place home.

Bruce finally emerged at the front of the garage; he was just wearing a fitted t-shirt and sweatpants, which, by the way, was even better than seeing him in a suit. In my head (or at least, I really fucking hoped it was in my head), I released a dreamy sigh. Stupid hormones.

I glanced up at him as he approached me, "Hi."

"Hi," he replied somewhat awkwardly.

"How are you?" I asked, "The renovations look great. They're coming along nicely."

"Yeah, I hired a real quality landscaper." He agreed.

A short silence passed between us; it was amazing how in just 6 months, you don't even know where to begin or what to talk about anymore.

"Want to take a walk?" I suggested.

"Sounds like a plan." He gestured for me to follow him.

He led me to the entrance of the gardens, and unlocked the wrought-iron gate with one of the countless keys he owned. He closed and locked it as I brushed past him.

"Well…" he spread his arms wide, "This is my new place of solitude."

It was quite beautiful, I had to admit. You could see everything in the gardens, even at night; Bruce had set up Victorian-age-looking streetlamps along the cobblestone path, and it bathed the area in a soft, warm glow. He had every type of flower known to man there; I couldn't even name some of the ones that I saw as we walked.

"It's amazing, really." I said breathlessly, "I wish you had installed this when we were…"

Bruce looked at me expectantly.

"Never mind," I said quickly, "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize, Harley." He gave me a half-smile. I felt a tug at my heart, remembering how much I had loved that smile.

"Still, I feel like I have to, I guess." I stumbled over my words, not knowing what to say.

"Please try to feel comfortable with me. I am the one who instigated us meeting, after all." he said.

We approached a bench along the path, and Bruce asked, "Would you like to sit and talk?"

"Yeah, that's fine." I tried to be nonchalant, but my heart was racing for I wasn't really sure what reason. We were just friends now; catching up, chatting…right?

He sat down first, and I followed suit.

He slung his arm around the back of the bench; a few inches from my shoulders. I shifted uncomfortably, "So…"

"So…?"

"How have you been, Bruce? I've tried to follow you on the news when I can, but all I've heard about was the renovations to Wayne Manor. How has work been?"

"Work is work, you know? It's been hard, going back and forth between being Bruce Wayne and Batman. It's tiring. I'm actually considering taking some time off from work, letting Lucius handle things for a while. I'm always going to have time to be Bruce Wayne, but my time as Batman is going to be limited." He admitted, "I am getting older, and I don't know how much I'm going to be able to do anymore."

"That seems like a good idea." I nodded, "Have you given any thought to who might replace you as Batman?"

"To be honest, I haven't really considered it. I'm sure someone else is out there, coming up with their vigilante identity, ready to pounce when I can't do something. There's got to be someone else in the world that cares about the state of our city as much as I do." Bruce said wistfully.

"I think there is." I said.

He smiled at me, a real smile this time, "I'm glad you think that, but doesn't that kind of interfere with what you and the Joker do? I can't help but notice that the two of you have been rather busy lately."

I flushed slightly, "You know me, Bruce. I'm not exactly evil, and I've come to find that neither is the Joker."

"I find that hard to believe." He snorted derisively.

"If you spend time with him, he's almost as human as you and me." I said defensively.

"Oh, I'm not trying to argue with you, Harley. I just know what I've seen, and he can't be completely evil if he has feelings for you…how is that whole…thing going?" I could tell it really pained Bruce to even ask that question.

"Um, it's fine. It gets stressful at times, but we have our good moments, too. You know, actually, the other day we –"

"I still love you." Bruce blurted out.

Well, that stopped me dead in my tracks. I didn't even know how to respond to that. I guess, in a way, I was expecting it, but on the other hand…what the fuck?

"Bruce, I…" I began.

"I don't care if you don't love me anymore. I just had to tell you. I still think about you every day, Harley. I still wish I could wake up next to you, watch you lightly breathe as you sleep, share your laughter, see your smile, touch you…God, it's been unbearable." He put his face in his hands, "I miss you so much."

"I miss you, too." I said, touching his hand.

I shouldn't have done that. Terrible idea, that physical contact.

He sat up, and pulled me to him, kissing me gently. I…I didn't even try to break away from it. I couldn't deny that all my feelings were still there for him; they were just being forced into my subconscious while I hoped never to feel them again. Obviously, that wasn't going to work forever.

We pulled away, searching each other's eyes for some kind of explanation, some kind of reason that we put ourselves in this situation.

I couldn't think of any off-hand.

"We…uh…we should not have done that." I stood up, and began to pace, "I really, really should have not done that."

"You sure acted like we should have done that." Bruce pointed out.

"Shut up!" I snapped, "This is not good. This is awful. This is catastrophic, even!"

"What, was it that bad?" Bruce asked reproachfully.

"No, you moron, the Joker has me followed everywhere I go! I'm already going to be in deep shit when he finds out that I came here, let alone that I actually went into your gardens!" I leaned against the iron grating across from the bench that separated the greenhouse and the garden.

"Oh come on, Harley, he's not that ridiculous." Bruce said, standing up, "Or…well…is he?"

"Thanks for that, Bruce, scaring me even more than I already am." I bit my nails, a stupid nervous habit that I couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried, "When he finds out…"

"He won't." Bruce assured me.

"Oh, you don't know him as well as you think you do, then." I snapped, "This is bad, this is really bad. He forgave me once for leaving him for you. I can't let it happen again."

"But…I still love you." He embraced me.

I pushed him away, "You don't understand! This isn't going to work! It won't be the same as it was before. We aren't free."

"We never were." He said bitterly.

"I guess you're right about that." I sighed, letting myself be enveloped by his arms once again, "God, I am so stupid."

"No, you're not."

"I am really fucking stupid for even coming here." I sobbed into his shoulder, "I am going to catch all kinds of fucking hell for this."

"I don't regret it. I wanted to see you again." He said soothingly, stroking my back, "I've missed you so much I couldn't even stand it."

"Me, too, Bruce, but I…I don't know how I can even justify this to myself, let alone to him." I protested, "I just don't even know why I did this."

"Because you still care about me." He said matter-of-factly.

He's always right. Damn him.

"Ok, so I may still care about you, but…but…that's not the point!" I exclaimed, "My point is that it doesn't seem to bother you that we're reigniting these feelings and giving each other false hope for a future we'll never have!"

"Well, that sounded nice and rehearsed." He laughed, squeezing me tighter, "Harley, can't you just pretend for a minute that you still love me, and that everything will be alright?"

"I can't live in that fantasy world anymore. I don't know why I keep lapsing back into these feelings over and over again. I promised myself I wouldn't, and yet here I go again. I'm such an idiot!" I made some sort of indiscriminate noise that was a mixture of frustration and pain into Bruce's chest, and then began sobbing.

This was just not a good day for me.

Bruce and I just stood there for a long time; I didn't know exactly how long, but I knew I had to break away before I got into even deeper shit.

"Bruce, I can't…" I pushed him away gently, "I can't be with you anymore. I'm sorry that I came here and led you on like this. It was downright fucking shitty of me to do this; I will be the first to admit that. I miss you, but I am done with this relationship forever, I think."

"Is that what you really want?" he asked. What scared me was that there was no emotion in his voice; his eyes just stared me down, void of any remorse, disappointment, anger…anything.

"Yes." I said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Ok, well…then just go home." Bruce said. He wouldn't even look at me.

"Alright," I turned and ran. I couldn't let him see how upset I was. I knew I shouldn't have come here. I knew I shouldn't have instigated this. It was horrible idea, and I knew, I just knew I was going to regret it when it came to fruition. I hated myself for hurting Bruce so badly. He was just trying to love me, to be a good guy, to be there for me when I needed him, and all I did was stomp all over his feelings and leave him like fucking road kill.

I realize that that was a god-awful analogy. My mind is not exactly sane when I am experiencing 1800 different emotions at once. Don't you love how we women get stuck with that burden?

I got back in my car, driving away from Wayne Manor as fast as I could. I turned up the stereo really loud so that I couldn't hear myself crying. I finally got back to me and the Joker's apartment, and parked. I sat there for a while, just trying to calm down, to look like I hadn't been crying. Unfortunately, I had so many tell-tale signs of that. I have what is known as "the ugly cry". My eyes were puffy, bloodshot and watery, my nose was red…basically I was a hot-ass mess.

I knew I was just going to have to tell some elaborate lie to get myself out of this one.

I somberly stepped onto the elevator, not even bothering to hang on. I didn't even notice the shaking and groaning tonight.

The elevator doors opened, and I fumbled for my keys. I looked up as the door opened in front of me. The Joker was standing there, looking rather frazzled. His face sagged a little with relief as he saw me, and his mouth broke into a bit of a smile. This was unexpected.

"It's 3 in the morning, and you took the car." He said, "Where did you go?"

"Out with Pam," I replied, pushing past him.

"Well, you don't need to get huffy about it." He closed the door behind me. He stared at me for a moment, looking very puzzled, "You're angry and upset. Want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"Pam and I had a fight."

"Ah, I see." He said sagely, sitting down next to me, "You don't have to be friends with her, you know. No one's forcing you."

"It's not that. I just care about…Pam…a lot, and I don't want to lose her, but she just fucking aggravates me to no end sometimes." I exhaled deeply, "I really don't want to talk about it."

"You don't need to. It's not really any of my business anyway." He shrugged, standing up, "Want a glass of wine to calm you down? You seem really shaken up."

"Yeah, that would be nice." I admitted.

I watched him go into the kitchen. I noticed that he was wearing his make-up less and less around me; it was a sign of trust, and I fucked all of that up royally. I had to wonder why he was being so nice to me right now. Did he know? Was this just a crazy sick game he was playing? I never knew with him. He was an enigma, no matter how much time I spent with him. I mean, I didn't even know the man's real name for God's sake.

He presented the glass to me, "Here you go."

"Thanks," I said, sipping it. He sat back down again, and I leaned into his shoulder, "Did you have a good night? You seem really calm."

"I guess I did." He said with a half-smile, "I found out something interesting today, something that I don't know how to feel about, but I think I've figured out what to do about it."

"Oh, really?" my heart was racing so hard in my chest; I swear he had to have heard it, "What's that?"

"Oh, nothing important, babe, don't worry." He kissed the top of my head, "I'm going to bed. Are you going to join me in a couple of minutes?"

"Yeah, I will. I just need some alone time first."

"I understand." He got up, and headed into our bedroom.

As soon as I heard the door slam, my body shook uncontrollably. What was going to happen to me?