Not Done Yet

A/N: Hey, guys, I really appreciate everyone reading! But...I'm kind of sad at the lack of reviews....it's not too motivating to keep posting when only a couple of dear folks say anything. So, please, if you like the story, make a comment? I thank you in advance!

--Seds

* * *

That night, Bats came home from patrolling feeling oddly refreshed and clear-headed. He'd broken up a drug deal on the lower east side and managed to get some useful information about the traffickers that supplied the dealer. He also stopped by the MCU for a brief meeting with Gordon, just to get an update on what his department was facing these days.

Batman wanted to know the official stance on the Joker situation--were they devoting a lot of resources to searching for him? Did it appear he was exerting any influence on the criminal element that was currently active? But Bats didn't bring it up, and neither did Gordon, so he was fairly certain that the department had bigger fish to fry, and that was good to know.

Maybe it meant that Jack's lies had been limited to the sins of omission regarding his visits to keep an eye on his son. Maybe Bruce could relax a bit and go back to trusting him, at least so far as his "good behavior" criminal-activity-wise was concerned.

He certainly hoped so.

The vigilante returned home at dawn and changed clothes in the bat cave. He was still upset with Jack--for sneaking out, for covering his tracks so well, but mostly for not telling Bruce about his past, for not trusting him with it--but he really wanted to see him and spend some time with him. The man was a constant source of fascination for Bruce, and this development added another layer to the mystery that was the Joker.

How could such a madman who lived with no rules have had such a "normal" period in his life as to have produced a child, married a woman, shared a home and family life with her, only to end up in an institution for the criminally insane? To have committed crimes and wreaked havoc on a city like Gotham....and what could Bruce Wayne do to help him?

All these thoughts roiled in his sleep-deprived brain as he made his way to the bedroom where his lover was sleeping peacefully. As annoyed as he was, Bruce couldn't wait to waken him. He wanted to smooth things over between them, let him know that he was sorry--really sorry--he had treated him so brutally at discovering his deception; he hoped the progress he had made with Jack hadn't suffered permanent damage.

He desperately wanted to be welcomed home by those dark eyes twinkling at him, and that beautiful, scarred mouth twisting into a grin of sarcastic affection for him. To feel those skinny, sinewy arms wrap around him as they kissed, to nestle between his legs as they readied themselves to make love, and to hold him tightly afterward as they slipped into sleep together....

Bruce opened the door slowly. The room was still swathed in darkness, the open windows revealing the early light of dawn just barely peeking through the blackness of the sky. He stepped quietly, taking care not to run into a piece of furniture, not wanting to startle his partner--he didn't react well when startled--and he approached the bed, saying his name softly.

"Jack...I'm home, buddy. You awake?" Getting no reply, Bruce reached out to put his hand on the mound on Jack's side of the bed, only to find it was made entirely of rumpled covers and a pillow carelessly twisted among the mess. Bruce reared back irritably and switched on a light--there was no sign of Jack in the room.

"Jack!" he roared, striding to the bathroom and checking for him there, but with no luck.

"Dammit!" he swore furiously. Where was he? Maybe he'd gone downstairs for some reason, although Bruce hadn't seen lights or heard any noise when he came in. He supposed it was possible they'd crossed paths and missed each other--he tried to control his dread and his anger until he was sure there was really a problem. He had to stop letting the Joker punch his buttons, sending him into an irrational rage without fully understanding the situation.

He should ask Alfred, maybe he knew something....Alfred. Oh, God.

Bruce picked up the intercom and buzzed the line to Alfred's bedroom. He should still be in bed, he usually didn't get up until after six a.m., but he didn't answer. Bruce's heart sank, and he started to hurry down to check on the butler, when Alfred's calm but sleepy voice came over the intercom.

"Yes, Master Wayne? Is everything all right?" he inquired.

"Oh! Alfred, thank God, you're there. Jack's not in bed--I was just making sure that you were...."

"I'm fine, sir. But, where could he be?"

"I don't know! Would you please check the garage and see if a car is missing?"

"Certainly, sir."

"Thanks...." Bruce carefully checked the rest of the upstairs then headed down and met up with Alfred. The older man had a concerned look on his face.

"What's wrong?" asked Bruce worriedly.

"I haven't found any sign of him, but...."

"But what?"

"The door to the roof...the lock seems to have been tampered with...."

"Shit."

Bruce hastened to the roof exit door and found it unlocked. The roof door was never left unlocked, except for workmen doing repairs or maintenance. He raced up the stairs, his heart beating hard and fast. He slammed open the door leading to the outside and glanced wildly around, expecting...what? He didn't know, exactly, but something...yet he saw nothing out of place. He strode out. The penthouse was a big building, and also the tallest in the immediate area, making the roof a rather private place. He headed toward the ledge that encircled the perimeter, dreading something he couldn't even name, when a low laugh emanated from behind him.

Jack was sitting with his back propped against a large air condenser unit, his knees pulled up and his arms wrapped around them like a little kid trying to stay warm.

"What's the matter, Bats, lose something?" he snickered.

Bruce sighed heavily in relief.

"Yes, you. I came home and you were nowhere to be found. What the hell are you doing up here?" he growled angrily.

"I couldn't sleep. It was hot. I wanted...I wanted to see the city at night, and looking out the window just didn't cut it. I wanted to smell it and taste it and see it and hear it, straight up. So...I found my way out here."

"You don't have permission to come out here," Bruce groused as he sank down to sit next to the clown.

"Ah, permission...you know, I'm not doing anything wrong, why do you have to be such a tight-ass all the time?" Jack sighed tiredly.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Bruce asked in a more kindly tone.

"I don't know. Just couldn't."

Bruce thought maybe he was still upset over the situation with his son, and he slipped an arm around him. Usually, simple acts of affection tended to be met with sarcasm or an uncomfortable flinch, but Jack actually cuddled closer to Bruce and lay his head on his shoulder. Bruce absently twisted his fingers in the blond hair, then massaged Jack's tight neck muscles with one hand.

"Tell me what's wrong," he said gently.

Jack just shook his head. They sat like that, watching dawn break over the city in a breathtaking spectacle and once light had flooded the sky, Bruce put his hand under Jack's chin and tilted his face upward to kiss him. They eagerly explored each other's mouths for a while, then Bruce smiled at his lover.

"How about we go to bed?"

Jack looked at him with a critical eye.

"Waaait a minute, aren't you going to beat the shit out of me for breaking out of the house and coming up here--'without permission'?" he asked snidely.

"No, Jack. I...it's ok, you can come up here whenever you want. Just...tell somebody. And--be sure you come back inside, you know?" Bruce gave him a dark, meaningful look.

Jack looked at him quizzically for a moment, then understanding dawned.

"Oh, God, you thought I was gonna off myself from up here? Oh, hell no. I keep telling you, big guy, I'm not in that bad a shape! I don't want to die! I just...I just need to...figure some stuff out. In my head, you know?" He looked Bruce in the eye, and the dark-haired man nodded.

"Ok. I just...I don't want to lose you. Ok?"

"Ok. Let's go to bed. Hey, how about we do a little stress-reduction exercise before we go to sleep?"

"What'd you have in mind?" Bruce grinned.

"Oh, you know, something involving aerobics as well as resistance training..."

"Resistance training?"

"Yeah, you try to fuck me and I'll resist, and then you can pin me down and overcome me."

"Sounds interesting...."

"Well, I know how you love to exercise."

"Are you a qualified trainer?" Bruce asked seriously, but with an amused quirk of his eyebrow.

"Oh, yeahhh...."

Once inside the door, the lovers kissed passionately, then made their way upstairs to their bedroom.

* * *

Bruce definitely knew how to get Jack's mind off of his problems. He lay contentedly under his lover's sculpted, muscular body, sporting a bemused smile as Bruce's orgasm caused him to arch his back, groan, and ejaculate deep inside him. The clown liked sex. He liked the electric shock an orgasm brought to his twitching body, the way it kind of re-booted his brain, and he liked watching the effect it had on the other person, especially a tightly-wound spring like Bruce Wayne. It was one time when he couldn't control his emotions, couldn't cover his true feelings with calm reason. The other times were when he, the Joker, brought him to the point of exasperation or fury, but that typically resulted in a beating, which typically resulted in sex, so it was kind of the same thing.

Afterwards, the pair lay sleepily in each other's arms.

"Don't you feel bad, cheating on your wife?" Bruce teased. If it had been any other human being on earth, he would never joke about something so emotionally-charged and sensitive, but he knew Jack well enough to know that something was troubling him and that he would not share it with Bruce unless he chafed at him until he blurted something out.

"Ah...that ship has sailed, Bat-guy. I think when she explained to me that if I ever got near her again she would blast a hole through my gut with my own shotgun, that was a sign it was ok for me to start dating again."

"Uh-huh. So, do you ever miss her?" Bruce asked innocently. Jack frowned up at him.

"Miss her? Do you miss a case of the clap once it's gone?"

"Oh, now come on. She looked like a nice person, and she was certainly very pretty. Aside from her perfectly understandable reaction to finding out her husband was a hit man, was she really so bad?"

Jack sat up abruptly.

"Are you trying to get rid of me? Jeeze, Batsy, you could come up with something more pleasant than sending me back to my wife...."

"No, no, I'm just trying to understand. I mean, Rachel and I broke up but we're still friends...it's hard for me to imagine hating someone I used to love...."

"Ok, I don't HATE her, exactly. I just..." Jack ran his hand through his hair in frustration. What was Bruce up to? He'd already spilled his guts to him about the kid, why did he have to pick at his feelings about Beth, too?

"You care what happens to her," Bruce gently observed.

"Well...yeah. That's a bad neighborhood. She's kind of naive about...assholes, and yeah, she's kind of pretty...I just think about some of the men I used to...do business with...I don't know about this staying away thing, Bruce. I feel like I need to, you know, check in every once in a while."

"Jack...I told you I'd figure something out...."

"You can't. There isn't anything to figure out. And, I don't want to piss you off, but I don't know if I can stick with the promise I made...." There, he'd said it. And, he was irritated with himself--why did he care what Bruce thought? Why was he feeling bad about disappointing him? What happened to his determination to disappear after satisfying his lust for the man--which, admittedly, he hadn't quite done yet, but still....Was this what being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne was going to be like?

If so, it sucked.

"It'll be all right." Bruce was cradling him close to his warm body, lovingly caressing his back, all that and the scent of him and his rhythmic breathing combined to lull Jack into a comatose sense of contentment. Fuck, the big guy was like some kind of recreational drug, and it would have pissed Jack off, except he was feeling so damn good...he sighed. Maybe Bruce could figure something out so that he could be sure his little boy was safe, that he had a decent future...if anyone could, he supposed, it would be Bruce.

* * *

Rachel Dawes sat in her office, her chin propped on one hand, drumming her fingers impatiently on her desk with the other as she stared at numerous stacks of papers. She had a ton of work to do, but she couldn't get into anything because Bruce was due to visit with her twenty minutes ago, and still hadn't shown up. She loved the man, but promptness was not his virtue. If he didn't appear in ten minutes, she'd...just then, her secretary buzzed to announce her guest's arrival.

"Thank you, Sheila. Please send him right in."

Bruce tapped on her door as he stepped in, smiling sheepishly.

"Is it safe to come in? Or should I be prepared to dodge a flying paperweight?"

"Oh, it's fine, since when have you ever been on time?"

Bruce strode to kiss his friend on the cheek, and she returned the greeting.

"I really am sorry, traffic was insane...." Bruce apologized.

"You know what gets to me is that you let me go for months without so much as a single phone call, and then all of a sudden, it's urgent!! and you have to see me IMMEDIATELY...for heaven's sake, Bruce, what's the emergency?"

"It's not really an emergency...it's just that a situation has come up, and I need your professional advice. And...it's a sensitive matter. Highly, highly...sensitive." Bruce sat in the battered guest chair across from Rachel's desk and settled deeply into it. He didn't relish the thought of confiding anything about the Joker's situation with her, the relationship he shared with the clown least of all. But, he knew it would come out, it had to. He'd just have to accept Rachel's reaction, no matter what it would be.

"So, you're hiring me as your attorney?" Rachel asked, puzzled. Bruce had a fleet of attorneys at his beck and call at all times....

"Yes, and, by proxy, as someone else's, too...."

"Someone else's? Who?"

"Just a minute. Are you accepting me as a client?"

"Oh, yes, of course. What the HELL is this all about, you're starting to scare me...."

"Ok. Brace yourself...I know where the Joker is."

"Oh, my God! Bruce, you...what do you MEAN you know where the Joker is?? Why are you telling me this, why don't you go to the police??"

"Because, he's in my house."

Rachel stared open-mouthed at her old friend. For once, she was utterly speechless.

"What is he doing in your house?" she finally asked, feeling as though she had fallen down the rabbit hole and asking a simple question like that made perfect sense.

"Living there."

The two ex-lovers stared at each other, one bewildered, the other hopeful.

"Bruce, please tell me what this is all about," Rachel said in thinly-veiled exasperation.

"Ok. His name is Jack. As you know, I took an interest in his treatment and did what I could to help him. When he escaped, I was...disappointed, of course. But...he found me, and I couldn't turn him away. I brought him to my home to keep him safe until I could figure out what to do with him...."

"Keep HIM safe? Bruce, that maniac has blown up whole sections of the city, he's blackmailed and extorted high officials, he's robbed banks....I hardly see how he's the one needing safe harbor...."

"I understand how it sounds, but he was treated very successfully while he was in the asylum, and his course of medication has kept him on an even keel since he's been out. He needs additional treatment, I'm sure, but he doesn't need to be locked up."

"That's not your call to make! Oh, my God, he could be doing anything and you wouldn't know it...."

"He's not. He's doing really well. But, there's a situation...."

"That's an understatement...."

"The Joker--Jack--has a son."

Rachel's eyes grew large.

"That's...terrifying."

"No, no, he's a little boy, he hasn't seen his dad in years, he's living a normal life with his mother, who appears to be a perfectly nice person, barring her bad choice of husbands...."

"Eww, he was married?"

"Yes...but, as I say, Jack hasn't been in contact with his child in a long time. And, he wants to be sure he's ok, and, although he hasn't said so in so many words, I think he would like to be able to be a part of the boy's life again..."

"You realize this is all crazy talk, right? You have clearly lost your mind...."

"Rachel, please. Jack was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sentenced to 'treatment in a psychiatric facility for the criminally insane until such time as he was found to no longer be a danger to himself or others.' Right?"

"Yes, but...."

"Well, he's no longer a danger!"

"Let's say for a moment--one insane moment--that that is correct. He still ran away from the asylum! I would say that negates any progress he might have made while he was a patient...."

"Well, that's something I want you to work on. Surely that offense could be diminished in light of how well he's doing?"

"Well...."

"And, if he were to be re-evaluated, and found to be well enough to be out, couldn't he petition for parental rights?"

"Good lord, Bruce, you're asking for the moon! And a couple of planets as well....From what you've said so far, I'll be lucky to keep YOU out of jail for abetting...."

"I know I'm asking a lot. Let me remind you, money is not a problem. And...I need you to think out of the box--be creative. And, protect both my and Jack's confidentiality and anonymity while you're researching...."

"Why don't I pull a perpetual-motion machine out of my ass while I'm at it?" Rachel asked bitterly.

"That's unnecessary...although Wayne Enterprises would certainly be interested in the patent if you come up with anything," Bruce grinned boyishly at her and she capitulated enough to return the smile.

"I can't promise anything, Bruce, I really have no clue how to help you. But, I'll try--if you'll answer one question for me."

"What's that?"

"Why?? Why in God's name do you care what happens to that man? What is the nature of your, uh, 'relationship'?"

"It's not easy to say this to you, Rachel. I could cook up some elaborate story, I suppose. But, I won't lie to you...."

"I'd appreciate that," Rachel quipped dryly.

"It's really very simple. I love him." Bruce hadn't meant to say that...but he realized it was true.

Rachel's jaw dropped and a strange little noise slipped out of her throat.

"Bruce...are you...are you saying you're...gay?? And that the Joker...is your lover?" Rachel gasped in horror.

Bruce simply nodded.

"I can't believe it...I just can't believe it...."

"I know, and I'm so sorry to spring this on you. But...that's the situation. I'll deeply appreciate any help you can offer."

The assistant DA nodded numbly, and stared at Bruce in utter bewilderment. The billionaire smiled gently, stood and again kissed Rachel, this time on her forehead, before turning to leave.

"Bye, sweetie. Let me know when you have something, ok?"

She nodded absently, already turning over in her mind the legal resources she would need to begin tackling this bizarre case.

This had turned into a strange day, a very strange day indeed.