A/N: To the Reflection Series readers, I am not done with the series. However since my husband and I write it together, it's harder for me to get the updates out that I want to. This story is all mine. I'm going to try to get updates out on this at least once a week. If you enjoy my stories please like and leave a comment! It means the world to me and keeps me going.

It was just after one in the morning when he pulled off from the dark dirt road into the gravel driveway. As he parked the car, the security light on the garage lit up reflecting off his smudged painted white face. He left the car, leaning against the door for a few more drags on his cigarette in the crisp fall air. He looked at the old house he very seldom visited anymore. It was a three hour drive from Gotham and he was busy these days. Sometimes he felt sure that when he arrived, it will have all been a dream. The insanity finally taking over and erasing this last remaining piece of his humanity. This hidden secret he kept for so long.

When the cold finally got to him, he dropped the butt and scrubbed it out with his foot before heading up the creaky wooden porch decorated with a crudely cut jack-o-lantern. Pulling out a set of keys, he quietly opened the front door and locked it again behind him. He typed in the code to the alarm before it could go off. The house was dark except for a few strategically placed night lights and the glow of the light that hung above the sink spilling out from the kitchen in the back. He toed off his brown leather shoes near the door and hung up his purple coat in the closet. Walking through the living room he meandered through a sea of Hello Kitty tea set pieces and Cabbage Patch dolls before making it to the kitchen. She always kept it clean. She always felt better going to bed with tidy countertops even if the rest of the house had gone to hell. He snooped in the fridge and pulled out a plate of leftover grilled chicken and asparagus. He made a face at the green stuff, but ate the meat cold with his fingers as he sat at the small kitchen table. There was a more formal dining room attached to the kitchen, but it was never used. Her weekly planner sat open on the table and after wiping his hands off on his pants, he pulled it to him and looked at what she had planned for the week. There was a preschool schedule, dinner ideas, bill due dates, a coffee date with a woman he didn't recognize, and written in black ink the words "Jack and Harley 10 years". That was this weekend and he had completely forgotten the occasion. Not that their anniversary meant nothing to him, it was just that he had other things on his mind. He tongued the scars at the cracks on his mouth as he thought about how he wouldn't be with her. He had other matters to attend to. Mon bosses to swindle, bats to fight. She wouldn't have assumed he would anyway, his attentiveness sailed years ago.

He sent her to live in upstate New York a couple of years after they got married. He realized she wasn't safe and was a liability for him if she stayed in Gotham. He bought her this old house, fixed it up for her and she lived there alone for years before Lucy was born. Lucy had been a mistake. He never wanted kids, but one round of antibiotics negated Harley's birth control that month and now they had a four-year-old. He barely knew his daughter aside from what Harley told him on their occasional phone calls and his rare visits. He was almost ashamed that he didn't think of her much. His last visit to the house was about three months ago. He never told Harley when he was coming, didn't want to get her hopes up if he had to back out. He also liked to keep her on her toes. He trusted her, but he also knew how easy it would be to be tempted to find a man that would be more dedicated, there to fix things around the house, one that didn't smell of gasoline.

Putting his plate in the sink, he made his way upstairs to her bedroom. He passed Lucy's on his way and he peeked in to see her sleeping under a mound of pink and white blankets and armed with an arsenal of stuffed animals. Her tiny leg stuck out from under the covers. Harley's room was darker and just like Lucy, she slept under a mound of blankets with one slender leg peeking out from the covers. He slipped into the bathroom to wash the rest of his greasepaint off before removing his holster and stripping down to his boxers and argyle socks. He scrubbed his fingernails with a brush, removing what was probably caked on blood and other unidentifiable grime. Running a hand through his messy green curls he shut off the bathroom light and crawled into bed next to her.

At first she didn't stir, but a moment later he could see her eyes flutter in the dark. In a groggy voice she spoke, "Jack?" as she reached out and touched his scarred cheek. He rested his lips against her wrist and pulled her to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and nuzzled her face into his neck.

He almost didn't recognize his old name anymore. She was the only one alive who knew it. He never expected her to start calling him Joker and he didn't think she had ever even uttered the word. His life in Gotham was never spoken about between them. When they were together they pretended it didn't exist. For all he cared, she could think that he went away on Peace Corps missions, only visiting between his humanitarian efforts. She knew better, but she only knew about what he was up to based on news reports.

"I missed you.", she whispered quietly.

He tightened his arms around her. "I'm sure you did." His voice sounded gravelly due to non use over the past several hours.

She gave a small smile and propped herself up to get a better look at him. She bit her lip playfully, now fully awake. "Will you stay a while?", she asked hopefully.

He let out a small grunt and ran a hand through her golden hair, letting it gently snag on the tangles. "Can't, babydoll. Just til morning." She felt her eyes dampen at his words and quickly hid her face in his neck again to hide her disappointment. She nodded her head to let him know she understood.

His visits used to be every weekend when she first moved out to the country and now she was lucky to see him once a quarter. Her fear was that he would finally forget her completely and be she would be replaced with his all consuming obsession with Batman.

She popped her thigh over his, trying to get as close as possible. She gently brushed his neck with her lips. He had never rejected her advances before, but she continually grew weary of him, always nervous of his aloofness toward her. She felt she wanted him more than he wanted her. He didn't respond at first so she placed a few more firm kisses to his neck and a soft lick of her tongue.

"It's late, Harl. Don't you want to go to sleep?"

"Jack, please?", she quietly begged.

He turned on his side to face her and she ran the tips of her fingers down the knotted scar on his cheek. She knew his scars well and she was the only one who had ever touched them and lived. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close as he finally accepted her affections.

After pulling off her clothes unceremoniously, he made it fast and hard punctuated by rough kisses she assumed were for her benefit. They stared into each other's eyes, not making a sound. It was a far cry from their passionate lovemaking in the early years and it left her feeling empty. After he was done, she quickly rolled on her side away from him and pulled the blankets up over her shoulders. She heard a scoffing sound from him as he leaned against the headboard. He made some noise as he pawed through the nightstand looking for a stray cigarette and lighter. She heard him inhale and she drifted off to sleep with teary eyes and the smell of heavy smoke surrounded her.