A/N: Wow, it's been a while. I'm sorry, the muses have not been kind to me, along with the fact that I had finals and papers and all kinds of crazy things. Here's to hoping that summer fares better for me!

Chapter 5: Close Enough to You

Together can never be close enough for me

I feel like I am close enough to you

You'll wear white and I'll wear out the words 'I love you'

And you're beautiful

"Marry Me", Train

I pulled up to Wayne Manor, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of dread sweep through my bones. I shook it off. I couldn't let the fact that the Joker could be lurking around any corner get to me. I just couldn't. I made my choice to go here tonight, and I couldn't let myself change my mind because of a little fear. Deep down in my heart, I knew what I was doing was wrong, thoroughly and absolutely. On the other hand, there have been worse things I have done in my career as a villainess.

I liked that word. It was a good word.

I parked my car in the side garage with Bruce's Mercedes. He kept his nicest cars in the main garage underneath the house, along with the infamous Batmobile. I've ridden in it; believe me, that thing scared the ever-loving shit out of me the first time he took me around town. I can't believe he risks his life like that every day. Stupid men and their stupid egos.

As I walked briskly up the steps, heels clacking against the cobblestones, I couldn't help but feel disturbingly optimistic about this whole situation. Sure, the Joker was going to be beyond pissed off at me for disappearing, but he knows my nature. I can't stay cooped up for too long. It doesn't sit well with me.

I rang the doorbell, rocking back and forth on my heels impatiently. It was a chilly night; I hugged my red pea-coat closer around my shoulders. Soon, the door slowly opened, and revealed Alfred, who stared at me for what seemed like an eternity.

"Miss Quinzel."

"Alfred," I said, "Is Mr. Wayne at home?"

"Yes, he is expecting you." He stepped aside to let me through. I glanced over at him. He was surveying me with a look of complete disdain that only old British men can accomplish.

"Bruce?" I asked, my voice echoing down the long entrance hallway.

"In the main living room!" he called in response.

Knowing the exact layout of Bruce's manor by now, I didn't need Alfred to show me about; not that he would have been particularly happy to do so, anyway. When I located the living room, I saw Bruce lying on the couch, a huge, warm blanket thrown over his legs. He looked pretty brutal; his arm was in a sling, his eyes were a bit swollen still, and his shirtless torso was wrapped tightly with bandages. He just looked so…vulnerable, delicate. It was unsettling to me.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, perching on the edge of the couch.

"Take off your coat." He demanded.

"Oh, sorry," I unbuttoned my jacket and draped it on the armchair next to me, "Now tell me how you're feeling."

"I am getting stronger every day. Alfred won't let me do anything for myself, of course. You know how he is."

"I can imagine." I forced a chuckle.

"You look upset. Is something wrong? Are you having second thoughts about being here? If you are, you can go home. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." The words began to spill out of Bruce's mouth.

I interjected, "No, no, that's not it. I think Alfred thinks I'm a rotten whore, though."

"Yeah, he's a bit miffed at the whole you running out on our marriage business."

"Probably not as miffed as you are."

"I'll get over it."

"Bruce, I…" I grasped his hand, "I'm sorry for everything that's happened between us. I am a truly awful person, making you feel that way. Don't pretend to be aloof like that so that you can prove to me that you're strong. I know you're not the type that cries so I'm not asking for any physical signs of grief, but really…it's ok to be upset with me."

"Well, yeah, I was upset with you, Harley, but now you're here. You're here with me right now, and that shows me that you still care more about me than you do about him."

"I still care about him, too."

"But you don't love him." He pointed out.

"I don't know what I feel for that man." I sighed, tucking my legs under me, "Right now, it's a hodgepodge combination of hatred, respect, disgust, and just general fondness."

"That is a confusing number of things."

"You're telling me." I said, rubbing my temples, "I have a headache trying to comprehend them all at once. Pam thinks I'm trying to be a martyr."

"Pam as in…Pam," he raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, that Pam. She's my best friend, like it or not. Shows you the sad, pathetic excuse of a life I've lived." I know Pam would smack me good and hard for that one but she wasn't here so it was none of her damn business anyway. So there.

"How long has that been going on?" he didn't sound angry, just curious.

"A few months now, ever since the –" I paused, gauging the look on Bruce's face, "he and I moved into our apartment. She still keeps in contact with him and we ended up talking one day, and we decided just to let it go. We did have a somewhat good thing going until the whole I might be in love with you thing."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"Dude, of course it bothered me. She assured me that we were past all that. She and I became friends at a very vulnerable time in my life. I thought you were dead for a couple of minutes; he and I weren't speaking…I mean, she was there to support me through a lot but that didn't really give her the right to assume I had feelings for her." I explained, "I told her all of that, and she understands. Now we're kind of sisterly."

"I guess it's good that you have someone to talk to about your problems since I can't be around all the time." He nodded in acknowledgment, "Tell her that if I find out that she tried to kiss you again, I will have to literally punch her in the ovaries."

"Duly noted," I laughed, "She doesn't need those, anyway. She's not exactly the mothering type."

"I can imagine."

"Well, she actually literally can't have kids because the poisonous chemicals fucked her ovaries to oblivion." I said, shrugging, "So I think she has given up that whole business."

"That's kind of sad. I would be pretty devastated if I couldn't have children." Bruce admitted.

"So would I." I agreed.

It was an awkward moment for the ages. Here we sat, two ex-lovers, discussing children.

"Let's change the subject." Bruce said.

I sighed with relief, "Um, yeah, definitely. We are in no shape to be discussing that."

Bruce attempted to sit up straighter on the couch, but his face crumpled in pain as he tried to do so. I leaned forward, and wordlessly helped him up, being careful of his ribs. He stared at me, his eyes searching mine, and then he said, "But, hypothetically speaking…what would you name your children?"

"Ava Maria and Charles Henry," I said without thinking.

After Bruce stared at me in a mixture of confusion and amazement, I said quickly, "I've been considering them for a long time."

"They're both good names." He said, and fell silent for a moment. I didn't say anything, not wanting to intrude on his thoughts. He finally looked up at me, "Do you regret leaving me?"

"Sometimes," I said, trying to be as honest as possible.

"What don't you regret about leaving me?"

"Bruce, I don't want to talk about this." I said warningly, "I really don't want to get into a discussion that will hurt you any more than you're already hurting."

He sighed, "Fine. I just…I miss you, Harley. I'm still trying to grasp why you left me in the first place. I could have made you so happy. I'm sure you know that."

"I do." I said, placing my hand on his, and decided to change the subject before it got any deeper, "So, how are you doing knowing that Gotham has fallen into the slimy hands of the criminals?"

"Not well," he grimaced, "Alfred sleeps on the couch in the next room so that he'll hear me get up. I listen to the police bulletins for hours."

"Why do you want to torture yourself like that?"

"I want to know what's happening. I feel like shit. I can't help any of these people right now." He balled up his fist, knuckles turning white from the pressure, "Sometimes I wish I had trained someone as an apprentice, so he could go and do some of this for me."

"Then find someone." I said matter-of-factly.

"It's not that simple." He shook his head, "I have to find someone I can truly trust, and who won't be swayed by this city. It's a tough life. I also have to invest a lot of time and effort and money into it, you know. I'm not concerned by the issue of the money but more the fact that having someone beside me will be a huge change."

"I can imagine." I nodded in acknowledgment, "You should have trained Harvey Dent to take over. Remember when he announced that he was the Batman?"

"Yes, I remember." Bruce said shortly.

"You have something against him?"

"It's not something I should talk about."

"Bruce, it's just me. You know I don't have anyone to tell secrets to, anyway. I have a sad, pathetic, lonely existence, remember?" I teased.

"Seriously, Harley, I don't think you want to know about the real Harvey Dent."

"The real…?" I was puzzled.

"Yes. Harvey Dent was not the man the media made him out to be. The circumstances surrounding his death were suspect at best. I would know because I was there."

"You were there when he died?" I asked, engulfed in his story, and suddenly I came to a terrible realization, "Did you…kill him, Bruce?"

He was eerily and disturbingly silent.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, "Why? What did he ever do to you?"

"Harvey was a menace. After Rachel was killed, Harvey was…emotional. He got half of his face blown off in the explosion, and he refused any sort of medical treatment. With the help of your precious Joker, he escaped from the hospital and went on a bit of a killing spree. Harvey kidnapped Commissioner Gordon's wife and children and threatened to kill Gordon's young son. I found them. Harvey shot me in the side –"

"He SHOT you?" I exclaimed, attempting to embrace him in pure sympathy.

"Yes, I recovered just fine." He said, waving away my mothering hands, "I waited until the opportune moment, and tackled him. We fell quite a distance. Harvey was killed on impact. I had to do it, Harley. Harvey would have gone on murdering more people and wreaking more havoc in the city than ever before. It was absolutely necessary to rid the world of him. It was truly sad, you know; Harvey was a great man. Loyal, just, and passionate…but unfortunately, he had a mean streak like a son of a bitch."

I took in his story, hardly believing what I was hearing. It was amazing how much the news failed to report.

"I might have to take it up with the Joker about that one." I said after a moment.

"Yeah, he was sort of the mastermind behind all of it. He wanted to prove that Harvey was corruptible."

"I guess he did." I felt ashamed. Here I was, shacking up with the man who wanted to create so much evil in the world and in front of me was a man, torn up from guilt that he had to kill a man. Was I out of my fucking mind for staying with the Joker? I felt better knowing that I was going to escape with Bruce in a few months, but it seemed so far away.

"Hey, don't be upset at yourself for this." Bruce must have read my mind; he was pretty good at that, "You weren't even in the picture when all of this happened. You were off being a grad student somewhere."

I had to smile a little at that, "That's true. I still feel like I should have expected more from him. I think he's a totally different person when he's around me."

"Well, I knew that the whole psycho clown thing had to be a bit. That's how all of them are." Bruce shrugged, "It's not like I don't think he's a person underneath all that swagger."

"Oh, see, I have to admit that I thought you kind of hated his guts more than anything."

"Oh, I do." Bruce said automatically, "I hate him for what he's done to you."

"What exactly has he done?"

"He's made you into…someone that you don't want to be. I wish I had known you before him, and could have given you a better life, Harley."

"I wish life wasn't full of 'if's and 'but's," I retorted, "I try my best to live with no regrets but you men make it very difficult for me."

"I'm just saying that I know the Joker is human, and a lot of people forget that. I'm sure you know that better than anyone else in the world." Bruce said, smiling with a hint of bitterness, "I bet that is what keeps you around, the fact that you could fix him someday. I think that is a frivolous hope, Harley, but you're just so nice to a fault sometimes and you think that everything is going to be sunshine and daisies eventually."

"It wouldn't kill you to be a little optimistic, too, Bruce." I said defensively, "And you know what? The Joker is a human being, too, and I see that on a daily basis. I see him outside of all the media craze and beyond his persona. He is only a man, and he was a scared child once who was beaten and abused to the point where he had to become this. I'm not saying that it is psychologically sound or reasonable that he reacted that way, but I can't blame him entirely for all of it. I don't exactly sympathize with him, but I…I feel some kind of pity for him."

"That's not a relationship." Bruce said curtly.

"I'm well aware of that." I sighed, frustrated at him and at myself, "I shouldn't have come here tonight, Bruce. I don't think you're ready to talk about what happened between us. I think we need some more time apart to think about what we're going to do." I stood up.

Bruce struggled to find words, "Wait, wait, Harley, I didn't want to upset you! I want you to come with me and get away from here. This meeting doesn't change my mind, in case you were wondering."

I smiled, and kissed him on the forehead, "I'd better get going, anyway. I'll call you when I can."

"Alright," he returned the smile, "Don't forget about me."

"You know I won't." I laughed, "Bye, Bruce."

"Bye, Harley," he called as I walked out the front door and breathed in the night.

I stepped forward, and suddenly hands closed around my mouth. I tried to scream, and a male voice said, "Give her the chloroform."

A horrible-smelling cloth was pressed to my face, and then everything went dark.