An Unhealthy Attachment

A/N - You know what'd be sooooooo random, but hilarious? I was thinking the other day that it'd be hysterical if this sudden obsession with the Joker spawned a series of TDK-themed weddings, and the groom would dress up as Mistah J, and the bride would be Rachel. lmao I think that'd be SO funny...but kinda hot, if clowns light your fire. :-P Definitely put up that "DO NOT DISTURB" sign on your door, hahaha. And I can't wait til Halloween for a change, because I'm really interested in seeing how many Jokers will be walking around on campus. I've been feeling the need to dress up these past few years (why I like dressing up now I'll never know, because I HATED it as a little girl), but I have no idea who or what I'd be. I wanted to be Leticia Faye from Dark Shadows last year (she was the chick on my avatar, but it's now Jokachel :-D), but I don't know... How many of you are going to be running around as Harley Quinn or Rachel Dawes just so you can be like "Hey! YOU! Kidnap me, please! Play knifey with me!"? Hahaha, ok, I'll shut up now...OH! And the link to my first ever TDK vid is at the end of the chapter. :) Hope you like it!

CH 6: Making Choices

When Rachel woke up the next morning, she felt as if her entire body had been hit by a Mac track. Although the aches and pains were minor, she still found that the stiffness in her limbs prevented her from moving as nimbly as she usually did.

Cursing when a particularly sore joint popped, Rachel miserably trodded into the living room before freezing on impulse, her brows drawing together once she spotted the Joker greedily drinking out of her milk carton.

Finally seeming to sense her presence, he grinned a milky grin before mocking, "Morning, cupcake...sleep well?"

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" Rachel furiously demanded. "You can't just come in here and start rifling through my things!"

"Uuh, actually I can...I gave it to ya, re-mem-berrr?" he lazily drawled. Now shutting the refrigerator door, he moved over to her before flopping down into a neighboring chair, his finger raising toward her as he remarked, "If you were paying attention yesterday evening, you would've noticed that I don't abide by rules...I make my own. After all, there are so many laws and strict-uh rules, but what do these government Nazis really do for us, hmm?" When Rachel didn't answer right away, he explained matter-of-factly, "They do jack shit, beautiful, 'cause you'd better believe that they're not really looking out for you. In this game of life, everyone is in charge of bettering their own interests, not everyone else's, so why not just beat them to the punch and start living life the way you were meant to? For yourself. There are no rules, there are no lim-itsss, and there most cer-tain-ly aren't any masked vigilantes in spandex pretending to care about bettering the world."

Although his words were meant to inspire, Rachel couldn't help but hug herself as she processed his message. "I-I don't want to believe that..."

"What, still hung up on the 'all people are inherently good' thing?" Rolling his eyes, the Joker leaned back in his seat before shaking his head, his gloved hands interlocking as he chided, "Harley, Harley, Harley, when will you ever learn? Surely your run-in with the Bat proved that everyone's masquerading behind a mask, but some, like Batsy, are far better at hiding their true selves than others."

"Is that why you wear all that make-up, then?" Rachel blurted. Frantically back-pedaling, she stammered, "I-I mean, I've been wondering why you feel the need to wear all that goop when you could just use a mask..."

"And are you always this curious in the morning, Miss Quinzel, or is this just a new thing for you?" the Joker snapped, a sneer tearing across his scarred lips as he slid his knife out of his pocket. "Any other questions you feel the need to trouble me with?"

Swallowing, Rachel choked out, "Uh, y-yes, actually...why wasn't my name in any of the MCU databases? Commissioner Gordon didn't act as if he knew me..."

The Joker grinned. "Oh, is that all, my little Harley Quinn? Although we were partners in crime, I felt the need to...pro-tect you."

"Protect me?"

"Well yeah, naturally" the Joker returned, an almost mischievous glint coming to his eyes as he licked his lips. "I needed to cover all my bases, because if we both were caught by the illustrious co-missioner and his team, all of our operations would've been completely pointless. No" he argued, wagging his finger, "I needed to make sure that one of us would always be around to play our lit-tle games. What would be the fun of us both going out in blazes of glory?"

"But Batman...how did he find out about me if no one else did?" Rachel pressed. "And if he did know about me, why did he act as if he'd never seen me before?"

The Joker giggled. "Boy, you really are full of questions this morning, aren't you?" Running the tip of his blade along the arm of the chair, he crossed his legs before sustaining, "The Bat didn't recognize you because you've always worn a dis-guise, Miss Quinzel. You'd wear make-up...like me!...and a fuh-oxy little suit that did your figure quite a bit of justice."

"A disguise?" Her eyes widening, Rachel demanded, "And where is this outfit now? Perhaps it could trigger a memory..."

Smirking, the Joker gibed, "Well I buh-lieve it's at the dry cleaners...they're giving criminals a twenty-five percent discount because of all our brrr-il-liant work, ya know."

Rachel frowned. "My God, are you ever serious? Although you love to be Mr. Funny Man, I really do mean it when I say I think the catsuit could help trigger something for me, so do you have it or not?"

"Oh, I have it" the Joker assured her, "but I doubt it'll trigger a memory since I had to get a new one made for you after your little ac-ci-dent. Apparently spandex isn't flame resistant...who knew?"

Rachel grunted, a distinct sinking feeling filling her gut as she miserably sat down in the seat across from him. "If you can't give me proof" she warily began, "can you at least tell me what kind of games we used to play?"

The Joker grinned back at her malevolently. "Now we're talkin'..."

--

"Heey, there's the sugar in my coffee!" Harvey tipsily gibed, a grin suffusing his features when his fiancee finally entered the dining hall. Spotting Miranda coming in close behind, he eagerly added, "Oh! And there's the cream!"

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Bruce joked. Now glancing down at the list he'd been given, he smiled before revealing, "Welp, that looks like just about everyone...should we start eating?"

"What do you mean, should we start? I've been helping myself this entire time, especially with the liquor" Harvey returned, grinning at the look on Bruce's face as he assured him, "Nah, don't worry, I didn't. Ashleen would kill me if she found out I didn't wait for her, 'cause this is our dress rehearsal dinner, after all."

Bruce smiled, but he was noticeably distracted. Although he wanted to be there for his friends on their special occasion, his thoughts couldn't help but drift off toward the blonde he'd met yesterday evening. Despite her fiery hostility, there had been a certain sweetness about her face...a certain humanity in her eyes.

Re-adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt, Bruce smiled as Harvey's fiancee gaily approached them. "Hello, Ashleen" he warmly greeted. "I trust that you're ready to get hitched tomorrow?"

The redhead immediately stopped smiling, her hazel eyes narrowing as she snapped, "That term is far too 'hill billy' for my taste, Mr. Wayne...couldn't you be more proper and ask if I'm ready to get married?"

Ignoring the annoyed look Bruce was sending Ashleen, Harvey slung an arm across her shoulders before slurring, "Awww, c'mon, honey, he means well...he was just joking, y'know."

"Indeed? Well I didn't find it very funny" Ashleen remarked, her gaze scrutinizing Bruce as if he were an insect under a microscope. Shrugging her way out of Harvey's drunken grasp, she added, "Oh well, at least he makes a nice best man...anyone less fortunate-looking wouldn't have suited me at all, becausee I like to maintain the appearance that I always converse with only the most attractive people of Gotham."

Miranda and her husband, Dusty were listening to all of this in disdain, the blonde's brows furrowing together as she hissed, "Do you hear that twit? I can't believe I'll be forced to accept her as part of my family in less than twenty-four hours...I'm telling you, Dusty, I think that after Rachel died, Harvey basically gave up all of his standards."

Dusty rolled his eyes. "Well either that, or he has a sick fetish for snobby reporters...who died and made her queen, anyway? She's even mistreating Bruce, for God's sake, and the last thing I heard, only people with a death wish do that."

"Well if she does have a death wish, I'll be more than happy to give it to her" Miranda grumbled, her eyes straying wistfully over toward the booze that the servants were now handing out. "Good God, what I wouldn't give to have a little bit of wine...it'd definitely take the edge off of Ashleen's grating voice."

"What, and your voice is like an angel's?" Dusty teased.

When Miranda moved to hit him, Harvey suddenly came over to the slightly disconcerted pair, a sinful sparkle coming to his eye as he asked, "Heeey, Mandy, wanna show everybody how to break it down Dent style? I can get the DJ to play "Boogie Shoes"..."

Miranda balked. "Oh my God, are you drunk? You know I don't dance in front of an audience, no matter how much I love KC and the Sunshine Band!"

"Awww, c'moooon..."

"Yep" Dusty decided, "he's definitely smashed, which is why I propose that you dance so I can enjoy you both making complete asses of yourself."

Scowling, Miranda opened her mouth to give a cold retort when Harvey suddenly jumped up on a chair, a grin suffusing his features as he turned towards the DJ and shouted, "BOOGIE SHOES, PLEASE!!"

Completely bewildered, Miranda blushed when the brass introduction to the disco tune began to play, her head shaking wildly back and forth when Harvey motioned for her to join him on the dance floor.

"Ooh, no, I told you I don't dance...I'm pregnant, for God's sake!" she warned, only to give a cry when Harvey lunged forward and pulled her out onto the nicely lacquered flooring.

Doing a step-ball-change, Harvey spun around before dizzily going into the splits, their audience giving a delighted cry when he popped back up and performed a surprisingly perfect handstand. Everyone, that is, except Ashleen...

Upon noticing this, Miranda grinned wickedly before deciding that she would make her future sister-in-law's dinner just a little more miserable, her eyes sparkling with vengeance as she began grape-vining into a cheated cartwheel.

"Mandy, you're wearing a dress!" Dusty reminded her, only to laugh at the horrified look on her face.

"Do you honestly expect your wife to know the difference between a dinner rehearsal and a strip tease act?" Ashleen grumbled, her arms folding as she glared at the merriment going on before them. "He should've asked me to dance, not his feather-brained sister."

"Well unlike you, Mandy actually knows how to have fun" Dusty irritably shot back.

Before Ashleen could give a cold-blooded retort, Bruce came in between the two of them while apologizing, "Hey, I'm really sorry, but I've got to get going...big meeting tomorrow morning, and I don't want to end up sleeping in and arriving late. Please give my regards to Harvey."

"Oh, but you'll be here for the wedding, right?"

Bruce nodded. "Oh yes, of course, you know I wouldn't miss it...goodnight, you two." Turning and egressing the packed room with a sigh, he inwardly scolded himself for being such a coward. It seemed that everything in that room led him to think of Rachel -- the dancing, the merriment...God, even Boogie Shoes -- so it was no true surprise when he found himself filled with the suffocating urge to leave. The only curious thing was this: why was he feeling so low after three whole years, and why did he suddenly feel as if his wounds had been freshly re-opened?

Sighing, Bruce decided that he'd most likely never know the true answer, his hands jamming into his pockets as he headed despondently for his vehicle.

--

"Why Harvey Dent?" Rachel asked, her eyes never leaving the TV as the oddly familiar man continued to flash across the screen. "I don't see how messing with this guy could possibly benefit our games..."

The Joker grinned. "Dent is Gotham's white knight, Miss Quinzel, and for whatever reason, these people look up to him like a god. When you take a powerful figure like God out of an equation, people begin to panic...they lose hope, and then, one by one, they all start to realize that their lives are completely meaningless."

Rachel flinched. "E-even us?"

The Joker eyed her curiously, only to break out into a fit of giggles. "What does it matter, beautiful? Dent is the key to all peace in Gotham, so without their lit-tle white knight on the chess board, all hell will break loose. They look up to him to keep order in place...to pre-vent chaos, so with a helping little push of disaster, we can help the masses understand that they're not invincible."

"Yeah, well what is?" Rachel pressed. "When you think about it, nothing's unstoppable."

"Uh-uh, not true" the Joker argued, his finger wagging back and forth as he shook his head. "Hate happens to be an unstoppable and pow-er-ful emotion, so if I can awaken that black seed within Dent's heart, I can easily revert Gotham's white knight to the darkness."

Rachel frowned. "Well what about love? If what you say about hate is true, then it's counterpart should be just as strong."

"Love?" The Joker scoffed and shook his head. "Love is an addiction, Miss Quinzel, a fever...it has no true substance like hatred, because hatred is a pure, unadulterated emotion. There is no addiction, nor any ri-dic-u-lous little attachments, because you're able to cut all ties with the world and just live for yourself. The only thing left for you to decide, Miss Quinzel, is what side you lie on."

Biting her lip, Rachel closed her eyes as it suddenly occurred to her what she must do. Although she didn't quite agree with what the Joker said, he was her only hope in finding her true identity, and because of this she knew she needed to trust him. With a reluctant nod of the head, she finally agreed, "Alright, I-I'll do it...I'll help you."

Flicking his tongue across his lips like a serpent, the Joker grinned before purring, "Goood...let's get you suited up."

A/N - Now before you say that a pregnant lady can't perform cartwheels, just hear me out...I wrote that she did a "cheated cartwheel", which is one of those fake ones where you put your hands on the ground and just kinda hop, hahaha. And yeah, sorry for the filler chapter, but I promise the next one is when all the "action" takes place. I'm looking forward to writing it, but I doubt it'll be up super soon since I'm distracted. Today was moving in day for college (WAHOO!), so my roomie and I are kinda chilling out. :) On the plus side, my trailer for this fic is nearly finished, so YAY!


LINK to my Dark Knight Parody vid (please rate and comment! -take the spaces out of the link-) - h t t p : / / www . /watch?vCHXX6tVmKjM