The interrogation room went silent. Gordon and Ramirez stood by the door, their guns aimed at the Joker. The Joker waited them out, calmly choking Murphy with the chain of his handcuffs, and I remained by Stephens, a foot on his back, shoving him down to the ground when he tried to get back to his feet. It seemed like we were frozen in time, the only sound any of us could hear was one another's breathing, in particular the Joker's, who's breathing had accelerated with the excitement of the last few seconds that it took to place us all in the current situation.

"Ya know, Com-mish-ioner," the Joker began, licking his lips. "I was being ser-ious about-ah introducing you to the Yin and Yang killer, the one I call 'Shadow'."

"And I'm being serious about the fact that you've not escaping from here again," Gordon growled. "You don't have any men in the holding cells that would have any explosives to get you out."

"Ah, but that doesn't mean I've out-ah of options, Com-mish-ioner." The Joker scoffed. "Wanna meet-ah my apprentice?" Rameriz's eyes widened, but Gordon's narrowed with this news that the Joker had an apprentice, though I had never considered myself as his apprentice. Sure, he was teaching me, but that didn't mean that he was making me do the exact same things he did.

The Joker shifted his weight, eagerly. "I thought ah-bout how to introduce her to the city, and I suppose this is the best-ah I can come up with at the moment. Come on out-ah."

It took me a moment to realize he was referring to me, and even then, I hesitated, wondering if I should do it or not. My hesitation led the Joker to frown slightly and Gordon to jerk his gun with a silent warning to my boss.

"She can't be in this room right now," Gordon said. "Joker, release Murphy!"

"Oh no, Com-mish-ioner. Not-ah until you meet her." The Joker whistled loudly. "C'mon out, Shadow, don't-ah be shy. I don't-ah have all day!"

I appeared reluctantly, causing Gordon and Murphy to flinch with surprise, even though Murphy only caused himself to choke more in the Joker's hold. Gordon's eyes searched me, and I held up my hands, showing that I was unarmed.

The Joker giggled softly. "Found my coat-ah, didn't ya?"

I looked at him. "Wasn't too hard. Just had to find the lockers and pick the lock." I shrugged. "Nothing too complex. The things you learn when you've been a criminal for half your life."

The Joker sniffed, like he was disgusted. "You won that one, Shadow," he growled. He turned his attention to Gordon and grinned. "I ah-pol-ogize, Com-mish-ioner, but I've got-ah to go. I owe someone a favor, and I promised I'd help out-ah." He glanced at me and winked. "I'm a man of my wor-dah."

The Joker lifted his handcuffed hands over Murphy's head, and he shoved him forward into Gordon. As he walked toward me, I caught the sight of his hands slipping easily out of the cuffs, and then the Joker was beside me, grabbing hold of my forearm. "Hope you grabbed the, ah, the knives too," he whispered into my ear, his voice husky.

"Sure did, Boss," I said in obviously forced cheery voice, and then shadowed back to the apartment. I brought the Joker straight to our shared bedroom, and after transferring there, I roughly pulled my arm free of his grip. I turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Raven was pretty ticked off with you when she found out that you allowed yourself to be caught."

The Joker snorted. "Of course she would be. It's Raven!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms out as if that explained everything.

I glared at him and then turned, heading for the door.

Predictably, the Joker caught hold of my upper arm before I reached the door, and he pulled me toward him. I dug my feet into the ground, resisting until he settled for me coming to a complete stop rather than returning to him.

"Are you mad at me?" he demanded.

I scoffed coldly, half-turning to throw him an icy glare. "As a matter of fact, I am! Why wouldn't I be? You nearly killed me in that explosion! I barely survived by jumping out a freakin' window! For the past two weeks, you've taken the time to instruct me, and you were this close to losing all that hard work you put into me." I used my fingers to illustrate just how close he was to killing me. "I swear, if you pull off another one like that, if I survive, I will personally kill you!"

Throughout my angry ranting, the Joker's expression had changed swiftly from one emotion to another, finally ending in amusement.

"You…will kill me?" This seemed to amuse him enough to cause him to burst into a fit of laughter.

Enraged, I stepped toward him and punched him as hard as I could, which was pretty hard, my strength being fueled by my surging fury. The hit was hard enough to silence the Joker, his grip on my arm slacking, and he fell to the ground, almost seeming to bounce on it a few times before settling on his back.

I had taken him by surprise, and that shock was evident on his white-painted face. His hand raised to his jaw, holding it as he moved it around, making sure it wasn't broken before he finally looked up and met my gaze.

Shaking with anger, I leaned over slightly, my eyes cold against his as I pointed cruelly at him, threatening to jab him in the face with my finger. "You might think that killing people is fun, but I don't. I've seen my family murdered before my eyes; I've shot my real father, and I was on the verge of killing someone else that I knew from a few years ago. I am not to be tested when I'm like this. If you knew any better – or even cared the slightest bit about your survival – you'd stay clear of me for the next few hours."

Having said what I wanted to say, I straightened and then turned, heading for the door again. I reached it and was only slightly surprised when I realized – halfway down the hall – that the Joker hadn't tried to stop me from leaving.

I found the room where the Joker's men usually hung out, and I closed the door behind me, propping one of the chairs under the doorknob so that no one could disturb me. The smell of beer and smoke – probably from Dave who was stupid enough to smoke still, despite the Joker's punishment – hung in the air so I moved over to a window. It took me several heaves before I managed to open it all the way. I even opened the second one, deciding that I'd rather have both open to allow the night air to circulate.

Having done that, I went and collapsed on one of the couches. My body was still wired from the adrenaline rush and my burning anger, but the cooler air from outside seemed to be chilling that rage. I covered my eyes with my arm, heaving a heavy sigh. It would take a few minutes for the fury to vanish, and that would leave me exhausted. Me and my temper…it was much worse now than it had been, and I blamed that on the Joker, who's own temper was quick and sharp.

A few minutes passed with the cool air from outside blowing over me, and I felt the exhaustion creeping up on me. I kicked off my Skechers and turned on my side, yelping with surprise at the lumps that poked me in the sides. I remembered I was still wearing the Joker's jacket with his knives resting in the pockets, and with a swift burst of hatred, I tore it off and chucked it across the room.

Settling into the couch, beating a dead pillow into the best shape it could be, I closed my eyes and dowsed off, waking at intervals to adjust my uncomfortable position. Once I remember waking up because I was cold, but I was simply too tired to get up and retrieve the Joker's jacket.

Past midnight, I think, I was half-awake when someone started talking to me. I couldn't comprehend all that he said, but I remember bits and pieces. It sounded like he was telling me about how he had waited, thought I hadn't survived the bomb when I didn't show up. Wished that he could tell me something important, but couldn't bring himself to say it. It didn't sound like my boss, but the voice sounded familiar, almost like Dean's. I couldn't think of it as when I felt some weight covering me and the warmth I felt, I drifted off again.

The sunlight pouring through the open windows awoke me because I was in the wrong position, facing the windows so that the slightest stream of light hit me directly in the eyes. I moaned as I turned my head and lifted my cover over my face, sighing and focusing on calming my breathing to drift off again.

But then I realized that I hadn't had anything covering me when I first fell asleep. I opened my eyes to the darkness under the cover, and I brought my hand up, touching the cover.

From the first touch, I recognized the feel of leather, and I pushed it off my face, instantly recognizing the purple shade of the Joker's jacket. Immediately, I threw it off me and onto the floor beside the couch, and I sat up, rubbing my face with my hands. It was only mid-afternoon, and since I had been sleeping during the day for over two weeks, it was torture to be awake in the sunlight.

I threw myself back down on my back, covering my face with my hands, quietly cursing the sun and the Joker's men for positioning the couch wrong.

The sound of slapping cards made me fall silent.

I could recognize the sound of playing cards anywhere, since I had the addiction of simply holding them. I sat up again, this time slowly as I looked around the room. I could only see one side of the room, the side with the other couch and with the TV, so the cards were coming from the other side.

Quietly, I peeked over the back of the couch, spotting the card player sitting at the poker table, his back facing me. I recognized the Joker by his green vest and light blue hexagonal shirt, not to mention the light green hair. He was shuffling a pack of cards, quickly dealing them out on the table surface, preparing for a game, and by his movements from behind, my guess was that he was playing solitaire.

I rolled my eyes and turned around, setting my feet on the floor. Rubbing my face again, I checked the door, seeing that the chair was still propped up under the doorknob, and I glanced over at the open windows, figuring that that's how the Joker had gotten into the room. I stood up and then looked down at his jacket, bending down and picking it up before straightening.

The Joker's attention was all on his solitaire game, his eyes darting over the cards in his hand and on the table, his mind calculating all of his moves. I watched him over his shoulder as he took a few seconds to plan out his moves before quickly executing whatever plan it was, slapping down several cards into place and moving a couple before halting for another planning moment.

Only once, the Joker took longer than a few moments to figure out the situation, and he simply stared at the cards. He remained that way for a whole minute, which surprised me. I connected what he was supposed to do, and without any concern, I reached over his shoulder and moved a number of cards around, taking a few from his hand and winning the game for him.

He remained still as I walked around him, pulling out the other chair. The Joker looked up at me as I sat down across from him, running a hand through my hair as a comb before setting it down on the table surface.

I met his steady gaze and asked, "How long have you been waiting?"

"Long enough," he replied, emotionless. I waited for him to continue, but the Joker was tightlipped.

I heaved a sigh and said, "You're not angry with me about last night?"

"It-ah was early this morning," he corrected.

"Fine, this morning. You're not mad?"

"Why would I be?"

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Because you don't like rebels," I said. "Besides, I hit you. Surely you want to return the favor."

"I wouldn't-ah say it was a favor. I al-ready owe Raven. I don't need to, ah, to owe you too." The Joker leaned back, sliding his tongue over his lips slowly. "But-ah, did you cool off?"

I cracked a small smile. "More than one way," I said, and the Joker grinned. The way he smiled, I sensed that something was different, and I frowned, trying to figure it out. He saw my frown, and his smile faded quickly.

"Still mad at me?" he asked, cautiously.

"What makes you think that?"

The Joker looked away, brushing his dyed hair back with a gloved hand. "No particular reason," he said, "Just-ah wondering." He chanced a glance at me, and I had replaced my frown of concentration with a smile. The Joker took a moment, as if making sure that it was sincere before he grinned back at me.

He slapped his hands on the table surface and pushed himself to his feet, nearly knocking his chair backward with the sudden force. "All righty then," he said, cheerfully. "I can go to, ah, to bed now without-ah worrying about possibly being killed."

I blinked, my smile disappearing with my surprise. "You thought I was actually going to kill you?" I said, shocked.

The Joker shrugged carelessly. "I've told you before, Shadow. You're like me. You're unpre-dic-table sometimes."

I blinked again, unsure of how to respond to that.

The Joker, sensing my confusion, chuckled softly as he looked about the room quickly. "Well, well, Sha-dow," he began. "Yah know Gotham. Yah know the other criminals. Yah know me, Batman, and the cops." He giggled. "You even have a, ah, a costume. And, you've committed the felony of breaking me out-ah of the MCU. Now I'm cur-ious." He eyed me. "How's that-ah make you feel?"

It was a simple question, but for some reason, I couldn't think of a proper way of answering it. To give myself time to concentrate, I tried to look away, but he leaned over the table, grabbing hold of my chin firmly, keeping eye-contact.

"C'mon, Shadow," he pressed. "I want-ah to know."

There was only one word I could describe how I was feeling. "Speechless…"

He arched a black eyebrow. "Maybe I should, ah, rephrase the question. After being in Gotham for, ah, for two weeks, you've gotten to know the city, not-ah like you've done much compared to others, but that's not something we can't-ah fix." His tongue flickered out over his scarred lips before he continued. "What do you say about-ah becoming my official partner-in-crime, Shadow?"

"Official, as in il-legal, right?"

The Joker gave me a confused expression, but I only grinned, waiting for him to get it. It took him a moment, but he did get it, enough to smile back and laugh happily. "My il-legal partner-in-crime, then," he chuckled.

I gave a short laugh. "I'm looking forward to it," I told him in a mischievous tone. "But you really shouldn't trust me as much as you have been."

He laughed in my face, but it wasn't a mocking laugh. "Shadow, you're as trust-worthy as I am. That's what-ah makes us perfect for one another."

The door slammed open, hitting the wall beside it and possibly leaving a hole in it. Next came the shout that was rather close to being considered a scream, "Sha-dow!"

I couldn't resist rolling my eyes, irritated, hating how the clown always had the best timing of when to interrupt me.

Two days later from the Ace Chemical Factory explosion, I was lying on the couch, my head propped up on a pillow, reading a book that looked like it had seen better days and listening to my iPod. The music was just a barrier against sound around me, such as the Joker's men yelling at the TV in the room next door, but it wasn't a good enough of a barrier against the slamming of doors as the clown himself made his appearance in a room.

"Shadow?" he called again, still almost screaming it.

I shifted my position, slipping an arm under my pillow, my eyes never leaving my page.

Over my book, I saw his head peek over the back of the couch where he crossed his arms, watching me attentively. I continued to scan the page, pretending to read since I couldn't focus while he was staring at me. It made me uneasy when I knew someone was watching me while I was reading. Subconsciously, I shifted slightly.

"Am I making you, ah, nervous, Shadow?"

"Stop staring at me," I growled irritated, trying to block him out.

"I'm not-ah doing anything," he protested, innocently. "Why do you have to, ah, to lose your tem-per with me?"

"I hate it when people talk to me while I'm reading." I shifted again, turning into the couch so I could still watch him without having to look at him.

The Joker didn't say anything and probably looked around the room for a bit. I managed to barely submerge myself into the story again before he decided to open his big mouth again. "Of all things to, ah, to catch you doing on your day-off-."

"Day-off, my day, my choice of what to do with myself," I snapped, hardly caring that I had interrupted him. I raised my eyes to throw him a cold stare. "A day you're not going to interrupt and ruin for me."

The Joker pouted. "When do I ever inter-rupt you?"

"Don't act like you're innocent. You're as innocent as I am."

"You're innocent?" The Joker's eyes widened. "In what-ah sense?"

"In the criminal sense. You know what. Compared to your records, I am innocent."

"Not-ah anymore." The Joker giggled as he climbed over the back of the couch. I managed to move my legs before he landed on them. "You do whatever I do."

"Monkey see, monkey do, huh?" I said, not amused. I curled my knees into my chest and turned on my side to return to reading.

However, the Joker threw himself over me, squishing me under his sudden weight.

"Uncalled for!" I cried out as he reached for my book. I moved it out of his reach, and he grinned.

"Whatcha reading?" he asked, curiously.

"What's it look like?" I demanded.

"Don't-ah get snappy with me, Shadow," he growled at me. He quickly snatched my book out of my hands and moved back to his end of the couch. I sighed with irritation as I sat up, turning off my iPod and wrapping it up.

"Berry Tucker," the Joker read from the cover. He opened it randomly – losing my page in the process – and laughed. "You've written in it-ah!" He carelessly tossed it across the room where it landed in a corner.

I instantly jumped for it, but the Joker caught me around the waist, throwing me back on the couch effortlessly. He straddled me, trapping my legs underneath him and pressing my hands into the cushions with his.

"Why do you care about-ah a ruined book?" he asked, sliding his tongue over his scarred lips.

"It's a prized possession," I growled.

"Brings back memories?" He shook his head. "Why would you want-ah to look back?"

"I had some good memories back there."

He cocked his head. "Only some?"

I narrowed my eyes, keeping my mouth shut.

The Joker released one of my wrists to stroke my cheek. "So many mysteries, Shadow," he said in a tender tone. "You hide it-ah all so well. Es-peci -ally your emotions. The past few days must-ah have been a trial for you."

"What makes you say that?" I spat, glaring at him. "Only two days ago, you nearly blew me to smithereens! Do you expect me not to have some kind of a grudge against you for that?"

"Do you hold me re-spons-ible?" the Joker asked.

"Yes."

The Joker scoffed me. "I read people very well, Shadow, particularly you. It's even eas-ier because you're so much like me."

"I am not like you."

The Joker waved a hand dismissively. "Say whatever you want-ah." Then, his tone turned soft. "You know, Shadow, you hold too many se-crets. You seem to be un-able to let-ah go of your past re-grets. That's one thing you should, ah, learn…face it and it never bothers you again."

The tenderness in his tone scared me, despite how it was supposed to be comforting. "What are you, some kind of poet?" I asked, my voice quiet.

The Joker grinned as he cupped my chin gently. "I could've pulled it-ah off if I wanted to," he giggled. "There are lots of things I could pull off."

"Why did you decide to become a criminal then?" I asked, "If you had so many options."

The Joker played with his mouth as he thought that one over. "You see, Shadow, I'm a guy of simple tastes. I enjoy the freedom that the life of a criminal gives."

"It's hardly freedom if you're wanted and you're always hiding."

"No-no-no-no-no, Shadow…you haven't been in Gotham long enough," the Joker said. "How long have you been, ah, with me?"

"Two weeks and two days," I deadpanned.

"At least-ah someone is keeping track." He giggled and then said, "See, I've been busy, instructing you so you haven't-ah seen me in action."

"The failed bank robbery doesn't count?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The Joker's expression hardened, and I must have made a face back as his hard look vanished, replaced by one of amusement. "Are you scared of me?" he asked, laughing.

The conversation had turned in a way that I had tried to avoid for the many days I had been with the Joker. It seemed that no matter what you do, sometimes, the thing you don't want to happen catches up with you.

The Joker's eyes bore into mine, and I knew that if I lied, he would know without hesitation. Whether I liked it or not, I had to answer truthfully, but I could play the half-game. "Not of you," I said, quietly. I only hoped the Joker would drop it and change the subject.

"But you are scared," he pressed. It was too much to ask for. I nodded.

The Joker pushed himself up, still straddling me. He cocked his head to the side, watching me closely. I laid still, staring back at him, my hear pounding with anxiety.

Then, the Joker fell back down. I cried out startled, expecting him to land on me, but he caught himself on his forearms, hovering closer to me than before.

"What-ah are you afraid of?" the Joker asked slowly. I didn't answer, still hoping vainly that he would drop it. "C'mon, Shadow, tell me," he begged. "It's only fair that-ah you tell me, if I've kept you ah-live this long."

I licked my dry lips, nervously at the mention of him holding my life in his hands, at all times. I tried to look away from his eyes, but I couldn't. The honest curiosity in his tone reached me, making me feel guilty that I wasn't answering him – like he had control over, not only my life, but of my emotions.

"I trusted you with the story of, ah, of my scars, Shadow," the Joker pushed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Surely I have gained your trust-ah in return."

No, he hadn't gained my trust; he had gained my respect for who he was and what he did. He was the most dangerous criminal mastermind in Gotham City, the most wanted criminal. Over my time with him, he had let his power over me slip, to test me. He knew more about me than I knew about him. It was so obvious that I had earned his trust, but did I trust him in return? All I ever trusted him with was my life, since there was no option.

Did I trust – no, respect – him enough to keep my secrets what they are: secret?

"What kind of trust have you put in me?" I asked. The Joker turned his head slightly, giving me a suspicious look as he chewed in the inside of his cheek. "You trust me not to take advantage of knowing the past behind your scars; that's the only trust I see."

The Joker shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting about the room like he was searching for an answer. "You've made this, ah, difficult," he accused when he finally brought his gaze back to me.

I shrugged slightly, showing that I didn't care. "I just did what you've done to me a few days ago."

He narrowed his eyes, licking his lips. "What-ah was that?"

"I revealed my regrets to you, and you used that to nearly blow me to smithereens."

The Joker burst out laughing, the tension easing with his easy laughter. "And you think you've put-ah me in a position that I don't like?"

I shook my head. "I didn't say that." I sighed, realizing that there was no point of continuing this, and he seemed to sense that I knew that because he turned his head slightly, looking at me expectantly.

"You know what happened to me," I said, looking away from him, staring at his shoulder rather than his eyes. "I have a fear of hanging over water-."

"That's not-ah the fear I asked ah-bout," he told me. "Though I under-stand that kind of fear. What-ah are you most ah-fraid of, Shadow?"

My throat constricted as I thought of how to phrase it. Seeing my struggle, sympathy softened the hardness in the Joker's brown eyes, and he raised a hand, sliding a finger along my jaw. I closed my eyes, allowing him to trace my jaw up to my ear and back down. "I'm afraid of your emotional state."

The Joker's finger halted just below my lips. "My emotional state?" he repeated, sounding confused.

I felt my muscles tighten, and I said, "How many women have you kidnapped before? How many of them are still alive? How many of them did you expression emotions for?"

The Joker growled and grabbed my head with both hands, jerking me up to a sitting position. My eyes flew open, to meet the fiery rage in his brown orbs. "What makes you think I kidnapped other women, only to fall in love with them?" he demanded, his voice loud, cruel. "I know what love does to someone! You know I know! What do you think drove me to kill Jeannie when she betrayed me? Insanity goes a long way with me, Shadow. That's something you won't understand."

He pushed me down into the couch, the pillow luckily cushioning my head as it hit the arm of the couch. His hands fell to either side of my head, gripping the edges of my pillow in a death grip. His green-tinted locks slid in front of his face as he merely glared at me, his eyes burning with fury. He trembled with barely contained anger, his breathing accelerating dangerously.

This reaction would have terrified me, if only he had looked at me. In this enraged state, the Joker seemed to purposely avoid looking at me, like he didn't want to scare me as much as he was by simply reacting this way. For a man who loved to laugh, he could be very treacherous and intimidating when he was mad.

It only lasted half a minute. The Joker closed his eyes tightly, sitting up and pinching the bridge of his nose with a hand. He breathed sharply through his nose, his mouth closed, held in a firm line, despite the smile-making scars. Even as he tried to calm himself, his body was tight, holding in his fury and still trembling with it.

"I swear…you bring out-ah…the worst in me…" the Joker said carefully as he gradually regained his composure. He released his nose and tilted his head back, tossing his green hair out of his face, opening his mouth and inhaling through it before leaning forward, opening his eyes and meeting my terrified gaze. A grin stretched over his scarred lips as he read my expression, and he chuckled softly.

"Ya know, Shadow," he said, his voice steady, calm. "There's a little fight in you." He giggled. "No, not-ah just a little fight. You've got-ah guts, a fighting spirit…I like that." He gave a hearty laugh and then leaned over me again, resting on his forearms. "I'm not-ah in love with you, Shadow, if that's what-ah you're worried about. I'll admit, I like you, but-ah not to that point."

"At least you're honest," I said, faintly, and the Joker's face twisted, like he was suddenly sick to his stomach. It passed though, and I pushed the prior incident out of my mind, pretending like it never happened – something that the Joker obviously had already done.

"It's the very notion of love that frightens me," I told him, quietly.

He gave me a curious look, even though his eyes seemed devoid of emotion. "Why?" he asked.

I turned my head away, feeling a strong sense of reluctance. The Joker was pressing for another piece of information on me, a piece of me that, like how I had came to become a criminal, I had hidden from everyone. I never had a close relationship with anyone since I was betrayed four years ago, when I was only twenty and inexperienced. The betrayal still hurt me, even years later, since it had been my first, and only, love and I had retreated from many others because of that.

"I've told you be-fore, Shadow," the Joker said, calmly as he cupped my chin. "Deal with it-ah and it doesn't bother you ah-gain. Get it-ah off your shoulders. I'm a good listener."

In spite of myself, I cracked a small smile, because I knew he was a good listener. I had revealed a piece of my past to him before, and he didn't take advantage of it, didn't use it against me. Instead, he had acted like a friend and had held me, comforted me, as I tried to face it.

If not a boss, or partner-in-crime, I have to admit that I considered the Joker a friend, despite who he was and what he did. He isn't the same as a best friend, but he was a friend, nonetheless. Better than having just myself…

"Love's caused me pain for years, starting with the loss of my family and the torture my father had put me through. I even lost someone who was very special to me, before my family. But, despite how much those hurt, betrayal had to be the worst emotional pain I had experienced. You've been betrayed before…by someone you loved." The Joker's eyes hardened, but I plunged on. "I won't say that mine was worse, but that doesn't make mine better. I've had a number of boyfriends, but none of them were as special to me as my first one, the one who had betrayed me, deceiving and breaking me with love. To me, love is a lie. Love is a noose that doesn't work correctly. It just straggles you until death finally takes you."

"Now there's the difference," the Joker said, softly. He pointed to his scars. "For me, betrayal led to, ah, to physical pain."

"While mine led to emotional pain."

The Joker dropped his hand by my head, and he licked his lips slowly, his eyes considering. "Two broken people," he said quietly. "Who would have thought-ah that they'd find one another?" The Joker chewed the inside of his cheek.

I narrowed my eyes with confusion, despite my awakened pain, unsure if he was talking to me or to himself. His eyes flickered over my face, as if he was searching for the answer in my expression. I became aware of how close he was to me, our bodies nearly touching, only his forearms holding him off me.

The Joker slid a hand behind my neck as he leaned in, his eyes fixed on mine. My lips trembled as his brushed them lightly, tentatively. His hand behind my neck pressed me into him, his mouth moving slowly against mine. I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

He noticed my hesitation, and he pulled away gently, his eyes searching mine for an explanation.

I gazed back into his eyes, and sadness overwhelmed me. The Joker's mouth twitched, and he brought his face closer to mine. "Don't," I said quietly, and he halted. "I don't mean to hurt you, but…I can't…" I closed my eyes, pained, turning my head to bury it into the pillow propping me up.

The Joker didn't move right away, remaining still for several seconds. Then, I felt the couch shift as he leaned in closer, and his mouth lightly touched my cheekbone before pulling away. I did not react to this as the Joker climbed off me carefully, and I listened intently, hearing his quiet footsteps as he walked around the couch. I heard the door close quietly, gently, and I knew he had gone.

Lordlink13: And so the inner conflict begins. Broken people stick together, at all costs. I don't know about you, but this has been my favorite chapter, thus far; not I can say much since I love every chapter I've written, and I'm the writer so I'd have to love all of the story – except for a few parts where I had difficulty…ahem, so, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. And I'm happy to hear that so many people like this story, and I'm just throwing this out there that if you have a problem with this story, please, tell me about it. The point of criticism is to make the writer better. Read and review, guys! I love you all, even the belated Sin - whom I'd like to warn in case the Clown Prince of Crime discovers the previous review. He doesn't handle being ignored very well - ahem, him going to bother Shadow earlier in this chapter! So, to conclude, enjoy life because I know I am! Until next time!