Stormy Weather

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Batman characters nor the song "Stormy Weather" featured.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Sometimes you can be like a stranger
In moments when you're so far away
In the night when I reach out to hold you
You just turn away, why do you turn away?

Oh, I love you so when you're smiling
But your smile has faded overnight
Will we stay like this for a lifetime
Gettin' nothing right, gettin' nothing right

Why do we always have stormy weather?
Why do we have it so rough?
Is it so hard just to stay close together?
Why can't we ever have love?

The constant rain was pouring hard in Gotham City. Dark, misty clouds loomed over tall, twisted buildings and broken, charcoal roads. It was a day for staying in, but that wasn't the case for the Joker. He was driving home with a sad look on his pale, leathery face. His cherry lips were turned down in a glum frown, and his emerald eyes were lit with worry. The Joker's mood certainly matched the cheerless day in Gotham.

The rain started coming down overwhelmingly fast and hard, and soon the raindrops turned into hard, cold hailstones. The Joker quickly pulled his car over. He couldn't see a thing. He looked at the street name and tried to make it out.

He read the letters "Green Street". That road sounded familiar. Then he remembered! This is where his 'best friend ever' lived. Poison Ivy. He hated the sound of her name, but he knew he'd never make it home in the hailstorm. He reluctantly got out from his car and rang her rose-shaped doorbell. An annoying tune rang from it, and Poison Ivy quickly answered. Her face was more shocked to see the Joker than a child who gets a puppy for Christmas. But this shock was not the good kind.

After her surprise subsided, she greeted, "Joker…how surprised I am to see you here. You know, it's funny, I was actually expecting to see your girlfriend coming here crying and beaten up by you. Isn't that ironic?"

The Joker rolled his eyes and said, "You know, Pammy, I thought maybe just maybe we could get off to a new start but I guess I was wrong for the first time in my life!"

Pamela crossed her arms and scowled at the pathetic clown in front of her.

Joker continued, "It's just that I can't drive home through this hail! Haven't you realized how bad it is? Well, maybe you were too focused on your 'babies' to look outside at the real world for a change!"

"Do you want to come in or not, Joker? 'Cause if you do, I'd come in fast before I change my mind," Pamela stated confidently and crossly.

Joker smiled as he said, "Thanks, Pammy."

The Joker walked in merrily and laid across Pam's vine green suede couch.

Pamela offered, "Make yourself uncomfortable while I get some tea. You want some?"

"Sure. I like my tea hot and my women hotter. But I guess I'll settle for the former for now," he laughed.

Pamela frowned and went into the room where her teakettle was humming. When she got back she found the Joker flipping through channels on the TV.

Pamela yelled, "Hey, Joker. When did I say you could just come in, lay on my couch and watch TV?"

Joker responded, "Oh, Pammy, I thought that was the only thing to do. Unless…you want some private time with me?" He winked at her and chuckled.

Pamela gagged and shouted, "Never! And you have a girlfriend, remember her? The one that's probably worried sick about where you are."

The Joker faked a concerned look, but quickly went back to his usual look when he was around Pamela: bored and frustrated.

"I doubt it," he declared coldly.

"Why would you doubt it? She loves you more than life itself."

"By the way she kills people, I wouldn't say she has much love for life," he said with a smile. "But I know what you're getting at and I don't really want to talk about it with you."

"What was I getting at Joker?" Pamela said slyly.

Joker shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"Let's just watch the…" The Joker suddenly stopped when he saw that the power went out. Both he and Pamela let out irritated groans. "Oh, great! This is just peachy, huh, Pammy? Now I have to be stuck talking to you all night?"

"Hey, I'm not throwing a party either," Pamela declared with a pouty look.

After a while of silence, the Joker broke the ice. He knew how stubborn women could be, and if he didn't start talking, they'd be sitting there in silence all night.

Joker said awkwardly, "So, I've never really been in here before. It seems strange, after all the nights I have to pick Harley up after running to you. But this house is…" Joker paused as he examined the house, clad in many decorations featuring plants and nature. "…interesting," he concluded.

"Yeah…thanks," Pamela replied.

Joker got up from the couch and began to look at the family room. "Mind if I look around a bit?"

"I guess not. You want a grand tour?" she asked, trying to be friendly. Being friendly was hard for Pamela usually, except when with Harley, her best and only friend in the world.

The Joker smiled wickedly and responded, "I don't know if it'll be grand, but okay."

Pamela was sick of trying to be nice to the Joker, but she thought this would be her only chance to see and try to understand what Harley saw in him. Why her best friend would be head over heels in love and obsessed with him.

The Joker and Pamela started to look around the rooms. Nothing particularly intriguing. Not for the Clown Prince of Crime, anyway. But he wasn't interested in much. Mainly just himself and Batman. Or so Pamela thought…

The Joker walked with her, just as bored as when they weren't talking at all. He had heard her talk about her little trinkets and memoirs from research trips when she studied botany at Gotham University. He had heard her babble on about her beautiful 'babies' and her prosperous garden. He was practically asleep when she led him into a new room.

It certainly got his attention though. It was absolutely beautiful. Velvet mint green walls, and a roof made of shiny glass. A mural of a rose garden was on the walls. And being an artist himself, the Joker was drawn to it.

Joker whispered, "Wow. This mural is…stunning."

Pamela was, for some odd reason, happy that the Joker was pleased. She always wondered why Harley wanted to constantly do what he said and make him happy. She now understood that it was so hard to please this corrupt comedian, that when you did you felt like it was a great accomplishment.

"You like it? I do too. It really is something isn't it? You into art, Joker?" Pam questioned with genuine interest.

"Am I? Indeed, Pammy. I was really an artist when I was in school. I thought painting was what I wanted to do with my life. But Daddy Dearest didn't approve of it. He didn't much like the idea of his only son becoming a washed-out comedian either. Great guy he was, huh?" Joker related.

Pam started to feel sorry for the Joker, but then remembered all the lies about his past he told Harley when she was his shrink. She couldn't give in and believe this crooked clown like poor Harley did.

Pam nodded without saying anything more.

"What? You don't believe me?" Joker asked.

"I never said that. I guess someone has a blameworthy conscience," Pam said.

"It's not that at all. It's just I can read people pretty good. And I can tell that you don't believe me."

Pamela started to say something but then impeded. Then she tried again. "Well, after all the lies you told Harley about your past, why should I believe you?"

"I'd never lie to her," The Joker stated in defense.

Pamela gave him a look and nodded. "Sure you wouldn't."

"Well, maybe not all of the stuff I told her was completely the truth, but I told her some pretty deep things I would never tell anyone else," he confided.

Pamela looked into his eyes and saw a glimmer of vulnerability.

She asked, "Can you read what I'm thinking now?"

"You believe me?" he guessed.

"I think I do," she answered.

The criminals were silent for a minute before Pam started to talk again.

"So, you want me to show you the rest of the room?"

"Sure, Pammy."

Pamela showed the Joker lots certificates that were hung on the walls. They were her awards and degrees in school.

"Yeesh, Pammy, you're smart, huh?"

Pam laughed smugly. "I guess you could say that."

Joker said with a grin, "Smart and sexy. And still can't get a date."

Pam hit Joker playfully in the arm. "Hey! I can too get a date, it's just…"

The Joker finished for her. "It's just that when you kiss a guy, he dies, right?" The Joker laughed hysterically. The concept of Pam killing any guy she loved really was too funny to bear for the Mogul of Mountebanks.

Pamela scowled and turned Joker's head towards the wall.

"Fine, fine, you need to lighten up, you know that? I don't get how you get along with Harley if you can't even laugh at a joke or smile at a joker."

The Joker looked over to the certificates read the first one aloud. "Valedictorian, Senior Year, Pamela Lillian Isley." He nodded approvingly. "Impressive. I never got any awards except maybe 'Class Clown of the Year'". He laughed, but he was really sad inside.

"What about your art? Were you any good?" Pam interrogated.

The Joker shrugged. "I was good, not exceptional or anything. That was the story of my life. Good, but not good enough."

For once, the Joker wasn't laughing. "I definitely wasn't as good as whoever painted your mural," he confessed. "I need one like that for my bedroom. Maybe Batman being killed or…something a little less gory."

"Well, I bet the person would paint one for you if you asked. But I'd suggest asking the person what they'd want on the wall too," Pam suggested.

The Joker look confused. "Why would I ask them what they want? It's my bedroom!"

"And hers."