How long can someone hold a grudge – if they could – against people close to them?

That's always been a question that I've asked myself in situations rather close to my current one.

After being traumatized close to death, I was bedridden for some odd number of days. I couldn't quite remember any of them; they were all a blur. If anything, I remember hearing two different voices, sometimes hearing one and sometimes hearing both, but I knew it was the same two guys in the room whenever I surfaced enough to be aware of my surroundings.

It was like I was drugged. I wasn't in a hospital, but it was close. One visitor was the nurse and the other was the doctor. Whenever they spoke, it was in quiet tones, though one of them, the Doctor, often forgot and raised his voice a number of times before the Nurse calmed him down.

In a state of delirium, that's what I called them, the Nurse and the Doctor. Both male, one wearing purple while the other wore everyday clothing, but that didn't seem to matter.

I snapped out of it, eventually. The softness of the mattress underneath me was the first thing I noticed. I had comfortably snuggled into the covers, facing the windows with the shades down, small streams of light slipping through. My head throbbed as I shifted, pushing myself up slowly, feeling achy all over.

I sat up and propped myself against the headboard, pressing my palms into my eyes and gently rubbing them. Dropping my hands into my lap, I sighed and then realized that I wasn't the only one on the bed.

Beside me, my purple-clad "doctor" was passed out, sprawled carelessly on his back. He still wore his suit and makeup, but the warpaint had smudged in most places, gone in a few. Even in his sleep, his scars resembled his Glasgow smile, even if his lips were relaxed. His hand closest to me occasionally twitched as his chest rose and fell in a rhythmic manner.

A thought crossed my mind. I had never seen the Joker's face without the white, the black, and the red. There had only been one time that I had come close to seeing half of his face. Now, I wanted to know. Curiosity led my hand that stretched out until I touched the rough skin of a scar.

The Joker's twitching hand moved, snapping down on my wrist painfully, and abruptly, he sat up, his eyes wide, menacing, as his other hand came up to my mouth, gripping his switchblade tightly.

For a few seconds, we remained in that position; me trapped and frightened, him unfocused and deadly, both breathing heavily. He did a double-take, blinking as he realized who he was holding, and he immediately released me, pushing himself away to the edge of the bed.

Ashamed, the Joker turned away, stepped off the bed, and headed for the door.

Immediately, I jumped off and ran over to him, grabbing his upper arm. He stopped, but didn't turn, forcing me to step in front of him. Even as my eyes met his, I realized that I didn't know what to say. He could have hurt me, when I had only startled him awake. I held no hard feelings against him, no regret for having met him, but I sensed there was a reason why he was walking away from me.

The Joker looked away first, clearing his throat. "Glad you're awake," he said, quietly.

"Yeah…sorry for waking you."

"It's fine."

We fell into an awkward silence, avoiding one another's eyes. My hand still held his arm so I slowly released him, to avoid drawing his attention. Lowering my arm by my side, I looked away, heat rising in my face.

Then, suddenly, the Joker's hand cupped my chin, and his head leaned down almost to match my height. His tongue traced his lips quickly. In a flash, his lips found mine.

It was a tender kiss, one that lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to make me lightheaded. He pulled away, and I let him. Gently, he grabbed my shoulders, guided me to stand aside, and then left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

I still stood there several minutes later, my mind whirling restlessly, trying to determine how I felt, or what I should feel. When I gave up, I still hadn't figured out what my emotions were.

I went into the bathroom with a regular set of clothing – I wasn't going to dress in my outfit – and showered, taking my time, scrubbing myself clean and washing my hair. I shut off the water and toweled off, dressing into my waiting clothes. Combing my hair and drying it, I felt more in control over my whacked emotions. I pulled my hair up and then left the bathroom.

I opened the blinds, blinking hard as the sunlight hit them. It was two in the afternoon; it made me feel guilty because the Joker was probably still on his usual schedule of being a night person, so that he could trade blows with Batman. I looked out, wishing my sight of the city wasn't limited. I haven't particularly seen Gotham in the daylight since I arrived some time ago. I suddenly wanted to explore and see what it was like.

Who'd normally be up at this hour? I could go alone, but I wasn't in the mood. I left the bedroom and went searching for someone.

I went out into the main hangar, where I found the Rottweilers running around like crazy, chasing several of toys that were being thrown across the room. I leaned over the catwalk railing to see Dean, sitting in a chair, throwing any toys that the dogs brought over to him.

Smiling, I raced down the stairs and jumped to the bottom, turning to face him.

Dean blinked, and then grinned. "Looks who's up," he said, cheerfully. Scout barked from across the hangar, dropped her toy, and raced at top speed at me. I dropped to one knee and caught her before she could knock me down.

"Hi there, girl," I greeted, scratching her ears affectionately. I looked up at Dean approached. "How long was I out?"

"Boss didn't tell you?" Dean asked, curiously.

"Well, um…no."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Must've slipped his mind. He hasn't exactly slept for several days, since you dropped."

"I was out three days?"

"Yeah." He grinned. "If it makes you feel better, he hasn't exactly left that room…until now, I guess." I looked at him, confused. "He passed by here maybe half an hour, forty-five minutes ago. Locked himself in the van and hasn't been out since." My ears perked up, and I turned my head, scanning the hangar for the black van. "Don't bother looking. He moved it before he locked himself in it." Dean gave me a curious expression. "Mind explaining his behavior."

"I woke him up, by accident. He didn't seem awake when he left the room." Now that I looked back, the Joker did look sleep-deprived, almost looking like an old man with his exhaustion. If I had noticed it, I wouldn't have touched his scars.

To avoid the possibility of Dean asking more questions, I averted my attention to Scout, trying to stop her from licking my face.

"So how do you feel?" Dean asked.

"Better." I thought for a moment. "I must have been delirious. I don't quite remember what happened the past couple days."

"Do you even know about you dropping?"

I shuddered. "Yeah…not something I want to repeat." Then, my lips formed a frown. "And I blame it on the Joker."

"Don't," Dean said, "It wasn't his idea."

I blinked and then glared at him. "What do you know of what happened?"

"I remember seeing the Joker carrying you to the Volvo. Peter and Dave were with him. Peter looked agitated, talking so fast that I've surprised that the boss under-stood him. After he had put you into the car, the Joker came over to me and told me to stay here and keep an eye on the clock. He looked like he was edge, like he knew something was going to happen that he wouldn't be able to stop. He's like that, and when he acts the way he did, he's always been right, sorta like he can predict the future without knowing it."

"He has no special ability."

"But he's intelligent, cunning, a genius with almost everything." Dean smirked. "He wires up his own explosions, did you know that?"

"What do I care?" I roared, with a sudden burst of anger. "The man forgot that my greatest fear is hanging over water. I had a panic attack, and if he hadn't been there, I wouldn't be alive right now." I stood up, turning my head away. "At least he had the decency to stay close at hand."

"Harsh."

"Oh, shut up." I started to walk away, but Dean caught my arm, stopping me.

"You know, I have to take the dogs out for a walk. You'll welcome to come if you want."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Dean." I suddenly didn't want to be near anyone; I was feeling really mean. I wanted to hurt somebody, and I had a particularly somebody in mind.

Scout grabbed my hand with her mouth. I stopped and sighed, turning to pull my hand free. "Go for a walk, Scout, I'll still be around when you get back." Scout bumped her head against my chest, whining. I patted her head and moved away, shadowing to avoid her trying to grab me again.

I returned to the bedroom I shared with the Joker and took my duffel bag out from underneath the bed. I hadn't bothered with unpacking it since who knew when the Joker might decide to move again. I found my wallet and pulled out a number of bills before chucking it back into the bag. I even found my criminal outfit and threw it into a separate bag, taking whatever clothing the Joker had left around too. Taking my car keys and Berry Tucker from the nightstand, I returned to the hangar.

Dean had just gotten the dogs on their leashes when I returned. "Where you going?" he asked.

"For a drive," I replied. "Don't know when I'll be back, but you can reach me by my cell, only if it's an emergency."

"Anything related to the boss is an emergency."

"Use your judgment then," I told him, turning the key in the ignition and bringing my Toyota to life. Dean pushed the open button off to the side, opening the hangar door for me as I backed out. I couldn't help but take a deep breath, particularly glowing in the sunlight.

I drove around the city, trying to find a Laundromat. I didn't know if the Joker ever had his clothing washed in the past month, but I hadn't questioned it. If I was close enough, I'd only notice how he smelled good, clean. He's wore different versions of his hexagonal shirt, all light blue, but I had found a number of vests, pants, and shirts in his dresser. And since I was washing my own outfit, why not take some of his along?

I located the Laundromat, and went in, finding a washing machine that was particularly hidden around a corner so that no one else would see exactly what I had. It seemed to me like places in Gotham were set up for privacy, thus allowing more possibilities of criminal activities. What do I care? I thought as I sat down to read my book.

The load was only halfway through when I sensed someone watching me. It began as a couple casual glances, but it had become intense within the past few minutes. Someone was here, who knew me, or possibility didn't but thought I was someone they knew.

In situations like this, you'd look up from your book and casually scan the room, paying more attention to the door like you're waiting for someone. Something inside was telling me not to do that, which was the exact opposite of my instincts. I tried to keep myself from moving too much, like someone who was aware they were being watched, and focused myself to focus at my book, other senses toned in on my surroundings.

Finally, the load beeped to announce it was done. I set my book aside and grabbed the clean clothing, shoving them in my bag quickly. After taking my book, I headed swiftly out of the Laundromat, sensing someone approaching.

I didn't head for my car, as I had heard the door of the Laundromat open a few seconds after I closed it. Hoping to avoid attention, I flipped open my cell phone, pretending that it was a friend of mine, talking one-way. Luckily, Gotham was a city, and lots of people walked to everything, almost. I blended in well, but I still had the fear that whoever was after me was still on my tail.

I tried not to be obvious of where I was going. I was on a recognizable street, and I headed in a random direction, still pretending to talk on my phone.

Suddenly, my cell actually rang. I quickly answered it, hoping nobody was really paying attention. "Yeah?"

"Where are you?" It was the Joker.

"Shopping," I replied, dryly. I couldn't make out how he was feeling; he was keeping his emotions out of his tone.

"Where?" he demanded.

I looked around, finding a street sign. "Finger Street."

"Near Wayne Enterprises?"

"Yeah."

"Stay there." It almost sounded like he was alarmed.

"Um, can't."

"Why?"

I tried to look casual as I searched among the crowd of people. "Unwanted company."

"Someone's following you? Who?"

"I'm trying to figure that out." I checked both ways before crossing the street, aware that there were crazy drivers in cities, worse in Gotham.

"Shadow, is there a place that you could try to meet up?" It was Dean now, and it made me wonder why the Joker had passed the phone over. I asked Dean. "He's coming to get you. Something's turned up, something he's sure of, and doesn't like."

"What?"

"He told me not to tell you. Just get away from where you are. Try to shake off whoever's following you. Where are you headed?"

"Hyde Park."

"Okay, I'll tell him. Don't be surprised when you see him. You should have sense enough not to question him when he arrives."

"He's not coming in his suit, is he?"

"Just trust him, Shadow." And Dean hung up.

I put my cell away, wishing I knew what was going on. Someone on my tail, and the Joker found out. Was it Hunter, coming to kill me at least? If it was, I was positive that the Joker would kill him before Hunter laid a finger on me, but that was also assuming that the Joker arrived in time.

I headed toward Hyde Park, wandering through the streets but keeping a sharp eye out. I was relying on my shadow sense to know if my stalker was still on my tail, and he seemed to be having an easy time keeping up with me. He hadn't approached me yet, but I assumed he was waiting for me to stop somewhere. I avoided situations, like stopping at a corner to cross the street, as much as I could, usually running across when I didn't see a lot of cars.

However, when I turned a corner, I stopped, seeing two men purposely standing next to one another, one with a hand to his ear like he was talking into a Bluetooth. When they spotted me, one of them grinned and elbowed the other talking. They headed toward me.

I waited until they were close and then dived out into traffic, nearly getting hit by a moving car. The two men chased me, as I ducked around several cars before reaching the other side of the street. Two more men were waiting for me, nearly catching me, but I hit one with my open palm under the chin, knocking his head back. The second one grabbed the bag of clothing I had. I kicked him off and broke into a run, heading straight for Hyde Park.

A motorcyclist almost hit me as I ran out into the street again. I stopped in my tracks in front of him, seeing a familiar green vest under a biker jacket. He revved the motorcycle, and I immediately climbed on behind him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

The motorcycle jumped forward, the four men following me stopping just in time to avoid hitting it.

We rode down the street, ignoring red lights and cars. The motorcyclist steered expertly through the traffic, weaving in and out of the lines. Cars honked at us as we rode by. We flew past a police car waiting by the side, and the siren flicked on.

The motorcyclist turned sharply, mounting the curb. People screamed and jumped out of the way as we drove by. We slipped out of sight, disappearing into an alleyway; the police car driving right past.

The motorcyclist killed the engine as I slipped off the bike. I turned as he pulled off his helmet and glared at me with his hard brown eyes. "As if you haven't given me enough trouble," the Joker growled, his face menacing with the faded makeup and held back anger.

"I believe you're the one who started it," I said, matching his cold tone. "If you hadn't ignored me-."

"If you hadn't stopped me from seeing Batman in the first place-!"

"Don't blame it on me," I snapped. "If anything, we should both claim faulty, and leave it at that." I crossed my arms and added, "Or you could just kill me and I won't be a problem anymore."

He jumped off the motorcycle and shoved me against the alley wall. The impact jarred my back, but I gritted my teeth against the pain and matched his hard gaze. "What makes you think I'd kill you?" he demanded, angrily. "I've done nothing but…but…" He growled as he turned around, storming over to the motorcycle. "You're un-grate-ful," he told me, darkly.

"Don't give me that," I grunted, heading out of the alley.

"Get. Back. Here." I turned around and glared at him. He held out another helmet, his eyes cold. "Put. It. On." He had no patience for me and my attitude. Rather than test him, I stormed over and took the helmet, shoving it down on my head and adjusting the straps. The Joker had replaced his and turned the engine back on. I hardly had enough time to hold onto him before the motorcycle kicked ahead.

We returned to the warehouse where Dean, Peter, and the Rottweilers waited. The moment the Joker killed the engine, Peter hurried over.

"You okay, boss?" he asked, worriedly.

The Joker simply ignored him, acknowledging him long enough to throw his helmet and the biker jacket at him before heading up the metal stairs. I grunted as I handed my helmet to Dean.

"Obviously he needs to get some sleep," I growled.

Dean shrugged. "I told you he hasn't slept since it happened."

"So I should feel bad for the guy?" I snorted. "Fat chance." I moved for the open door, but Dean stopped me. "Don't you even start with me, Dean."

"Your temper is just as bad as his," Dean sighed, shaking his head. He narrowed his eyes, making himself look as angry as I felt. "I'll get your car. You deal with the Joker."

I frowned. "I don't have a choice in the matter, do I?"

"You can let Peter deal with him." Dean's mouth twitched, obviously trying to keep from smiling. I glanced at Peter to see that he was gone. "He followed him up. He deserves a beating, which the Joker will give him if that's who he's after. Go enjoy yourself." He couldn't hold back the smirk, but he turned away to leave.

"Wait, Dean," I called after him. He turned, and I threw my car keys at him. "You might need these, unless you want to explain to the police why you're stealing a car in board daylight." Dean grinned and left.

I did as Dean told me to, even though I was reluctant. I had a good sense of timing as I walked around the corner, seeing the Joker shove Peter away from him.

Peter tried to say something, but the Joker jumped at him, punching him in the face, knocking him down to the ground. Energy burst from his lean frame as he pounded Peter, punching and kicking him to the point that the man was bruised and crying for mercy. The Joker pulled back his last punch and actually knelt by the sobbing man, patting his cheek.

"There, there, Peter," he whispered, softly, "I won't hurt you anymore." The Joker placed his knife in the man's mouth, pulling his cheek taut. "Cheer up, Peter, I wanna see you smile."

Peter choked on his tears, squeezing his eyes shut, preparing himself.

"No, Peter!" the Joker yelled, "I said to cheer up!" He turned the knife into the taut cheek, cutting into the skin at the corner of Peter's mouth. The Joker held his blade steady, simply watching the man whimper in pain.

He remained that way, watching Peter with cold, emotionless eyes, waiting for Peter to completely breakdown. Peter met his gaze, shaking slightly. The Joker's eyes narrowed as he took his switchblade out of Peter's mouth.

"Are you ah-fraid, Peter?" No response for a few seconds, and then Peter shook his head. The Joker smacked him hard, making Peter wince painfully. "You should be scared, Peter. But-ah, I suppose you don't understand me well enough right now."

"I understand you," Peter said, confidently, but the Joker smacked him again.

The Joker flicked his switchblade in his hand, bringing it dangerously close to Peter's face. He clicked it closed and then snapped it open, swiping it down on Peter's cheek. The man cried out in pain as the Joker cut a line down his cheek, one that bled freely.

A real grin stretched on the Joker's lips. He let his tongue slide over his lower lip, wetting it. "Your fate rests in my hands, Peter," he told him. "Next time you try anything against Shadow…" He slid his knife along his throat, mocking what would happen. Peter's eyes widened, and the Joker laughed, a rumble emanating from his chest.

He bounced to his feet and sauntered down the hallway, heading in my direction. I ducked around the corner before he saw me, but he didn't stop as he too turned the corner. He passed me, but at the same time, reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me after him. I opened my mouth to protest, but the Joker turned sharply and slapped a hand over my mouth, silencing me.

He continued laughing, his eyes twinkling mysteriously, as he pulled me along behind him. I followed him, seeing there was no escape from him. The Joker's laughter eased into soft giggles as we left Peter far behind. The Joker brought me to the Recreation Room where Shaun, Dave, and Cory were.

"Anyone have hard feelings towards Peter?" the Joker asked, excitedly. The three guys looked at one another, confused. "C'mon, don't be shy," the Joker giggled. "I wanna know."

Slowly, the three guys' hands lifted in the air, like they were in school. They looked ashamed for revealing the truth, but the Joker simply burst into a fit of giggles. I couldn't give them a comforting look, since even I couldn't read the Joker's mind.

Abruptly, the Joker forced back his laughter, and said, "Think about what Peter has done to you, that's given you reason to have those hard feelings, and for fifteen grand, I want you to go and act upon those feelings."

The guys hesitated, staring at him confused, like they couldn't believe what he was saying. The Joker gave them a look and said, "Going once…going twice…" All three guys jumped up and hurried for the door. The Joker laughed as he pulled me away from the stampede. "Close the door be-hind you," the Joker yelled, cheerfully.

The moment Cory closed the door, I realized what the Joker wanted; he wanted me alone, and he got it.

The Joker's hold on me changed, an arm wrapping around my waist, his fingers digging into my side as his other one took one of mine, entwining his fingers with mine. I met his eyes hesitantly as the Joker grinned, amused.

"You know how to dance?" he asked.

"Um, yeah…" I said, unsure of what he was planning.

"Great!" he particularly screamed, excitedly. "Let's dance!"

He twirled me about the room rapidly, expertly leading me around the obstacles within the area. I was stiff as he threw me around, scared half to death that he was going to slam me against something. I tried to catch his attention, but it seemed like it was elsewhere as he hummed some tune I couldn't name. The tune had a good dancing rhythm so I supposed he was dancing to something.

Finally, I let myself relax, following his lead around the couches and the wooden chairs. The Joker's humming sped up, and so did we in our twirling. Almost as fast as it had quickened, our pace slowed, and we simply swayed from side to side, turning in a slow circle.

The Joker cleared his throat, waiting, and I finally raised my gaze to his. "Wondering why I got you alone?" he asked, calmly.

"Wondering a lot of things," I said, narrowing my eyes. I tried to push away from him, but he tightened his hold on me, wrapping his other arm around my waist too.

"I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us, Shadow," the Joker said, honestly. "I haven't exactly slept in the past three days. I'm sorta…" He shrugged. "Messed up, shall we say?"

"That's not something new," I growled.

We stopped dancing, and the Joker glared down at me. "Don't. In-tim-idate. Me," he growled, menacingly. Then, he twirled me away from him and then back. I caught his free hand, and he started the vicious dance again. It took some effort, but I managed to keep up with his pace and he eventually slowed, frustrated.

"Listen, Sha-dow," he said, in a dangerous tone. "I'm trying to make things bet-ter, but if you keep pushing me in the wrong direction-."

"Fine," I grunted, mimicking his tone. "Try again, and explain."

The Joker growled, impatiently. He stopped dancing, and I arched an eyebrow. Then, abruptly, he shoved me into the wall by the dart board, nearly hitting my head on it. "Why should I bother?" he asked. "Explaining won't do anything."

"I'm a rational person," I argued. "You explain it, and I'll try to get it."

The Joker's hands slammed against the wall on either side of my head, causing the dart board to shake violently on its support nail. "Trying doesn't cut it!" he yelled, furiously.

Even though I was scared by his fury, I stood my ground. "Take a chill pill, Joker. Honestly."

He seemed taken aback, leaning back, blinking hard. I could tell by the dryness of his eyes that he was exhausted. If there wasn't any black mascara around his eyes, I'd be able to see the dark circles.

"Listen," I said gently, feeling empathy show its face. "Go get some rest. I'll talk to you when you're more…alive."

He blinked again, his fury gone, leaving him confused and tired. Then, his scarred mouth slowly formed a smile. He leaned his face closer to mine, his raw breath blowing on me. His tongue slid over his lips as his eyes gazed into mine.

I felt my heart beating hard in my chest, as my breath caught in my throat. My body tensed as his lips touched mine, but as his hands slowly grasped my face, I found myself dropping my guard. I raised my hands and slid them into his green curls, holding him tightly.

Even as we kissed, my mind raced. Was this really what I wanted all this time? I had been in love before…but it hadn't ended well. My heart had been broken and torn out of my chest. For years, I didn't think I could survive, but I made it, believing that never again, I would love someone. The Joker was the last man I would have chosen, but it made sense to me. I couldn't love any other man. He was the last one that I hadn't tried.

Now, seeing that he obviously had feelings for me, it seemed that even though I had resisted him for so long, I had indeed begun to have feelings for him in return.

The Joker's lips traced along my jaw, planting kisses up to my ear, but I suddenly pulled away, hitting my head against the wall. The sound alarmed him, and he stopped, pulling back and looking at me with confusion and hurt.

I didn't look at him, my mouth twitching. "I can't, Joker," I said, trying hard to control my breathing as my chest heaved. "I just can't."

The Joker scoffed, turning my face so that I had to look at him. "Sometimes you're a good liar, Shadow," he said, softly, "But some-times…you're as bad as a little kid trying to hide the fact they had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar." He grinned and leaned in, kissing me once before pulling away and heading for the door.

"Wait," I said, startled, and he stopped. "Where are you going?"

The Joker looked at me and grinned. "I'm exhausted, Shadow. At this point, I could drop on the floor and sleep through the rest of the day and through the night."

I shook my head. "I doubt through the night," I said, smiling.

He laughed. "Maybe you're right, but…" He shrugged. "I'm unpredictable."

I giggled. "So true." I waved at him, making him smirk. "Nighty night, Joker."

"Do I have to remind you that I prefer 'Mister J'?" he asked, glaring at me, but his tone was light, frivolous.

"Mist-ah J, go to bed!"

"Yes, Mother." He laughed and opened the door. "I think I can trust you," he giggled. "I'm leaving you in charge. If you need anything, go to Dean. I don't want to be bothered."

"Will do, Captain, sir," I said, straightening and putting my hand to my forehead like a soldier. That only made the Joker laugh harder as he left the room.

Lordlink: Another difficult chapter to write, but I like the outcome. And I hope you all did too. I know some of you were just waiting for when the Joker and Shadow actually reveal their feelings for one another – not to each other yet, since Shadow's too stubborn – but this was that chapter. And don't worry about who was stalking Shadow, that person hasn't liked her at all. Any guesses?