Batman Begins/Dark Knight Misused, Mistakes

**PAIRING: Batman/Joker**  
**SONG: "Far Away" - Nickelback**  
**DISCLAIMER: I own neither the characters or the song. No copyright infringement intended.**  
**(listen and download here: **ww w. aimini .net /view/?fid=AajqV0JnLj3DBzAz8JM2 **; minus spaces)**

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_This time, this place_

_Misused, Mistakes_

"Did ya... miss me?"

Batman spun around, his eyes quickly fixing on the source of the voice. His eyes narrowed as he saw the clown. The Kevlar-clad body tensed, and the Batman's hands balled into fists.

"Joker."

The word, the name, the _accusation_, was spoken in a low growl. It made the Joker's stomach flip. The smile widened, and he clapped his hands together excitedly.

"The one and only."

He stood in the shadows, his painted face eerily bright amongst the dark grime of the alley-way. The black-rimmed eyes were focussed on the masked man, and he advanced slowly, his breath misting in the air before him.

_Too long, too late_

_Who was I to make you wait?_

"I didn't mean to deprive you of the- the _pleasure_ of my company for so long."

His blood-red lips quirked up at the ripped corners, and he shrugged apologetically.

"Arkham really takes it out of a guy, ya know? And then there's all the _business_," he made an elaborate hand gesture, "and other matters to attend to." The smile became more pronounced, and he spread his arms wide, palms facing upwards. "I've been a busy little bee, Batsy, but here we are now."

_ Just one chance_

_Just one breath_

_Just in case there's just one left_

Reaching a distance of a few feet from the Batman, the made-up man stopped. Batman felt a surge of hatred pulse through him at the permanent smile.

"You're going back to Arkham."

The Joker slapped a hand to his chest and sighed theatrically, tilting his head to the side and letting his mouth drop open in mock-shock. "You're too kind, I missed you too, bat-cakes." He pouted and fluttered his eyelashes coyly, making Batman's top lip curl in disgust.

"No games." An image of his beloved city burning, the Joker's intention, flashed across his mind. Images of innocent Gothamites hurt by the Joker's order clamoured in his head, each screaming for attention. Something within the caped man snapped. "NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN _GAMES_!"

The clown's eyes lit up, and a smile played around his lips. He sucked in a deep breath, slowly, and turned his back on the Batman.

"Games? I'm not the one playing the, ah, _hero_, imagining I can save this city with brute strength and a hell of a lotta luc_k_."

In a few steps, the Batman stepped up behind him, so close that he could smell the cheap cologne on the clown's pale skin. His nose twitched; a faint odour of burning also emanated from the purple suit.

"I wouldn't have to play the hero, if there weren't certain people playing villains."

Suddenly, the Joker leaned back into the Batman, and tilted his head as if to see his face more clearly. Horrified, the Batman backed away quickly, leaving the Joker to fall in a very undignified manner to the ground. The Batman felt his heart beating rapidly; they had been so _close_.

The Joker quickly sat up, and hugged his knees to his chest. He rested his head on his purple pinstriped knee and gazed at the Batman. When he spoke, his voice was soft. No hint of a threat lurked in the carefully pronounced syllables; there were no sharp edges to his words.

"You wouldn't look at me otherwise though, would ya?"

Batman's brow creased under the cowl.

"What?"

_'Cause you know,_

_You know, you know -_

"Well," the Joker licked his lips delicately, and kept his eyes on the Batman. "_Well_, if it wasn't for me being... a little '_wayward_'," he raised his hands and his thin fingers placed air quotes around the word, "_heh_, now and then, you wouldn't look twice at me. You wouldn't know me. At. All."

The Joker tore his gaze away, and fixed it on the cold hard ground beneath him. He hugged his knees a little closer, and hunched his back against the sudden cold that enveloped him. Words tumbled out of his mouth, words he needed to say but had never intended to.

"And... and I wouldn't like that. You- you might hate me, but it's _something_. I need that Batsy, I need _you_. I've got your attention, just like you've got mine."

_ That I love you,_

The Batman didn't turn round. He kept his back to the Joker, his cape swirling around him like the clown's words swirling around his head. Was that... a confession? But did he... could he possibly... No. The Joker was a psychotic madman, who played mind games with people.

"Batsy, you've always had my attention."

_I have loved you all along_

No. It was wrong, it was sick. He was sick. A madman. Swirling round, he fixed the Joker with a scowl.

"I said _no games_, Joker."

The Joker's eyes – and they were brown, Batman noticed, a deep brown he had never seen before, never taken the time to notice – widened and he held his hands up in a gesture of submission.

"No, no. No games, I know. This _isn't_ a game." He regarded the Batman for a few moments longer, and then sighed. "I missed you. I didn't want to, I shouldn't have, but I did." He sighed again, and drummed his thin fingers on his knee.

_ And I miss you_

_Been far away for far too long_

"You didn't visit. Not. Once. And I was stuck in Arkham for so long, Batsy, so long without ever seeing you."

Batman almost laughed aloud. Not that the Joker was being funny, but that the idea was so ridiculous – what did he expect? Him to pop in every now and then just to check up on him, have a chat over a cup of coffee?

"And... That was hard. I wanted to see you. I wanted you to be there. With me."

_I keep dreaming you'll be with me_

_And you'll never go_

"I've said it before, Batsy, but _you complete me_. I need you. And I was without you for so long, so damn long, I... I was tempted to just stop. To end it there. The guards would've been the first to hand me a rope and help me tie it around my neck."

The Joker lifted the end of his tie between two slender fingers, and tugged upwards, gasping theatrically as if being hung. He then dropped the tie and tilted his head to the side, regarding the Batman thoughtfully. "Actually, that's about the only thing they stopped short of."

As if to demonstrate his ordeal, the Joker punched a clenched fist into his other palm, mouthing the word "ouch".

_Stop breathing if_

_I don't see you anymore_

Batman tried to ignore the fact he could hear genuine sorrow in the clown's voice. He steeled his voice, and glared impassively at the Joker.

"So why the hell didn't you do it?"

The Joker's lips quirked up in a sad little smile. "If anyone was gonna do it, I'd want it to be you."

"I'm inclined to agree."

A small laugh tumbled from the Joker's mouth. "But I- I know you'll never do it. Like I won't kill you. This is our dance, Batman, and - boy is it one _hell_ of a dance - we're gonna be like this forever."

Despite how much Batman wanted to ignore the clown, despite how much he wanted to close his ears to that silky, hissing voice, to reject each and every word as lies, deep down he knew he was right. There had been so many chances, so many opportunities for either one of them to kill the other and they just... didn't.

Something always stopped him, there, when he had the Joker's life in his hands, when there should be nothing to stop him, there was always... _something_. Was it... a feeling? A voice? A thought? A desire to never stoop to the level of the Joker? But that level, the Joker's level, was so close when he had the Joker's neck in a tight grip, or a gun pointed at the heaving chest.

What stopped him? Was it... was it that look, that bare, unhidden look he glimpsed in the brown eyes, and the feeling that rose, unbidden, in response. No. Because that feeling didn't exist. Not for people like the Joker. Not for _things_ like the Joker.

And, more disturbingly perhaps, what stopped the Joker? There was always another knife, always another gun, or another weapon and yet none of them fatally injured the Batman. Scratches. Surface wounds. They always healed. He'd had his chances too, to end the life of Gotham's saviour, and he never did.

"Why are you here, Joker?" the exasperation was clear in the gruff voice. Batman was tired, and confused, and above all, starting to believe that there was a man underneath the make-up. Which was stupid, because there was only an enemy.

"I wanted- _uh_, I wanted to dance."

_On my knees, I'll ask_

_Last chance for one last dance_

Batman slowly walked over, so there was very little distance between them. The Joker stood up quickly, wincing as he rubbed his arm.

"D'you, d'you wanna see something?" Without waiting for an answer, the Joker pulled his suit-jacket to the side. He quickly un-tucked his shirt from his pants and pulled it up. His eyes fixed on the Batman's; he pointed a thin finger towards a vicious purple bruise that shone there on his side, contrasting violently with the paleness of the surrounding skin.

"That," whispered the clown, "was our last dance. It's still there. That hurt like hell, believe me, and it still does. But I took that."

_'Cause with you, I'd withstand_

_All of hell to hold your hand_

Unthinkingly, Batman reached a hesitant finger towards the bruise and ran it lightly over the mark. The clown winced, but kept his eyes fixed on the blue ones.

"But I took that," repeated the Joker, slowly, "and I'll take a- a _thousand_ more of the same, if that's what you have to do to, _ah_, allow yourself to touch me."

_I'd give it all_

_I'd give for us_

_Give anything but I won't give up_

"So." Quickly, he let his shirt fall back down, and moved closer, making the Batman take an involuntary step backwards. The light in the brown eyes dimmed for a moment, as if hurt by the movement, but quickly brightened.

_'Cause you know,_

_You know, you know_

The Joker put his hands down at his sides, and jerked his head, flicking the hair out of his face. "So. Do it. Dance with me. C'mon, just... one. Last. Dance. Please? I'll show you... how I feel."

_That I love you_

_I have loved you all along_

_And I miss you_

_Been far away for far too long_

_I keep dreaming you'll be with me_

_And you'll never go_

_Stop breathing if_

_I don't see you anymore_

"No," growled the caped crusader, "Allow me."

_So far away_

_Been far away for far too long_

The Joker let out a cry of surprise as Batman rammed into him, knocking all the air out of him. Pinning him to the ground by straddling him, Batman grasped the Joker's slim arms together above his head.

_So far away_

_Been far away for far too long_

The Joker laughed loudly, banging his head back against the hard concrete beneath him.

"Batsy, Batsy, _Batsy_, a little forward aren't we?" The Joker paused to lick his lips again, tasting the scent of Batman as he did so; a pleasant sweaty musk. He breathed in a little deeper. "Not that _I_ mind of course, but didn't your mom ever tell ya—"

Pain exploded in his face as it connected with the gloved fist of the Batman. He panted loudly, his eyes gleaming with hatred as he watched the Joker slowly open his eyes, still smiling, and smirk at his captor.

"Did I, _ah_, hit a nerve there?"

"I'm certainly aiming for one." The growl was followed by a series of blows to the Joker's head, through which he laughed and giggled continuously, as if the Batman's punches were no more than ticklish feathers. Which, if he'd asked, they were.

_But you know, you know, you know_

"Oh, c'mon," wheezed the Joker, "Batman. What a welcome. What. A. Wel- OOF!"

A fist connected with his stomach. For a moment there was nothing but the laboured breathing of both men. Batman, looking down at the made-up man underneath him, and the made-up man staring back.

_I wanted_

_I wanted you to stay _

The Joker's next words were soft. "Well, like I say, Batsy. Whatever it takes for you to touch me."

The masked crusader stopped. There was something – something frighteningly human about his voice now. No theatrical growls, no oddly high-pitched voice... Just human. And tired, so tired.

"But I... I just don't _get_ it, ya know, Bruce?"

The Joker watched Batman's eyes widen, and then narrow. Batman pushed the Joker away and got to his feet. The Joker sat up, massaging his stomach. "What are you talking about?"

"Bruce? Oh, I've known for a while." The Joker looked at Batman – Bruce – with something akin to glee dancing in his eyes. "Bruce Wayne, Gotham's golden boy. It wasn't hard. I'm not as stupid as I look." The Joker quirked his lips to the side. "But still... I don't get it."

Batman moved away from the Joker, out of that stare. Those eyes ... He didn't want to see them. He stared at the Joker's back, and the man continued to talk.

_'Cause I needed_

_I need to hear you say_

"Let's face it – you're Bruce frickin' _Wayne_, baby. You could chase anyone you want; catch any girl in this city and dangle her over your arm as your latest accessory... and yet you choose to chase little ol' me around..." The Joker stopped, his shoulders hunched. His hand flapped at his side for his next words. "I mean, what if it wasn't the violence, the terror, the threat, the chaos? Look at you - I put one little thing in danger - a hospital, a mayor... and you come running."

Thump. The Joker lay down roughly, and looked into Bruce's eyes. Brown on blue. "Honey, I'm starting to think that if I told you to jump you'd ask how high..."

"Joker—" Brown on blue. Blue on brown. Bruce took a deep breath.

"No. Not joking this time, Bruce." The Joker closed his eyes. "I just asked for a dance."

And there – that feeling. Underneath the Kevlar, his heart beat fast. His stubborn, stubborn heart.

"Hell, it's all a joke, isn't it?" continued the Joker into the silence. "_Life_. Everything's one big bad blown-up joke. I guess this is what it feels like being the punch line." A soft, sad, giggle.

Footsteps. The Joker opened his eyes. Bruce Wayne, Batman, stood above him, looking down into his eyes. Brown on blue, and blue on brown. The brown eyes were hopeful, yet guarded; the blue were... at peace.

"How high, Joker?"

_That I love you_

_I have loved you all along_

The Joker looked at the gloved hand held out to him, then back to Bruce's face. Without breaking their gaze, the Joker slowly removed the glove. Bare now, Bruce's calloused hand encircled his own, and pulled him to his feet. The two men faced one another.

_And I forgive you_

_For being away for far too long_

"I'm not asking you to jump, Bruce." Brown eyes, a little cautious now.

_So keep breathing_

_'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore_

"Or fall." A smile, curling the corner of the scars.

_Believe it_

"I just... wanted to dance."

_Hold on to me and, never let me go_

Batman – Bruce Wayne – stood and stared at the Joker. Stared at the man he'd been chasing. Chasing for Gotham, chasing for... chasing for himself. This was it. His stubborn heart beat rapidly in his costume and he couldn't break the stare.

_ Keep breathing_

"I can do that."

_'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore_

Fire dancing in his brown eyes, the Joker snaked a lithe hand around Bruce's back and pressed against his Kevlar-clad body; with a smile wider than his scars, he kissed him, long and passionately. Bruce stiffened, then relaxed and groaned against him.

_Believe it_

The Joker pulled away from the kiss, breathing deeply. His eyes were bright, and they fixed on Bruce's equally shining ones. "And they say the thrill's in the chase... Oh _no_. The capture, the corruption... is a hell of a lot more thrilling for me..."

_Hold on to me _

_And never let me go _

"Music, Joker..." Bruce growled against the white-smeared neck of his enemy. "We need music."

_Keep breathing _

The Joker dipped his chin and eyed Batman shyly from underneath his eyelashes. "You got it. Gotta make the night go with a _bang_, heh?"

_Hold on to me_

The Joker suddenly and without warning jumped away from Bruce, hopping from one foot to the other. A manic grin unfolded across his face. The high-pitched voice, thin and lilting, threw itself towards him. "What d'you want? What's it gonna be, Batman? Gunpowder? Bullets? Gasoline?"

_And, never let me go _

Batman's hands – one bare – curled into fists at his sides. "_Joker, _you—"

_Keep breathing_

Grin curling across his scars, the Joker danced towards Bruce. Brown on blue. Blue angry, brown burning. "Nope, I got it."

_Hold on to me _

Grasping his arm, he pulled Bruce closer. The Joker's breath was warm on his lips as his face hovered over his own.

_And..._

"Ka-boom!" he whispered, before their lips collided.

_Never let me go_

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**END**

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Batman Begins/Dark Knight, Angst, Romance