Four months? It seems more like four years. Four long years. It was hard to believe that it had been over a hundred days since The Joker's death in the bowls of the abandon Arkham Asylum. A hundred days since he morphed poor Tim Drake into his own twisted image. A hundred days since The Joker finally got what he had coming to him for years. But even then, the damage had already been done.

Commissioner Gordon pressed his thumb and middle finger against his temples, sighing as he rubbed them. The Batsignal's light had shone in the sky for nearly forty-five minutes, and still no sign of the Dark Knight. Normally he'd have returned to his office before now, but this was just an issue that couldn't wait to be addressed at a later date.

His ear caught the metallic squeak of the door to the rooftop opening. Gordon turned around to see that the heavy set Officer Bullock was peaking his head outside. "Hey Commish," He spoke almost sheepishly, well aware of how on edge Gordon had been for the past few hours, though he wasn't sure why. "I don't think he's comin'. Why don't you come inside, you look like Hel-"

"He'll come." Gordon put simply, not hearing anymore of what Bullock had to say. The aged officer crossed his arms and looked back up at the signal in the sky, continuing to wait patiently for the Caped Crusader to finally appear.

Seeing that there was no convincing him, Bullock shrugged before pulling himself back inside, shutting the door behind him.

Gordon let out another sigh as he looked over at the Batsignal, wondering if he should indeed just shut it off and wish for better luck tomorrow. Before he could even fully think over that notion though, he heard a shuffling of feet behind him.

"You called?" Batman's voice had grown darker and grittier since the incident with The Joker. Also, the way he carried himself now seemed to be less about saving innocents, and more about punishing the wicked. Was there even a difference though? If there are no wicked, then the innocents wouldn't suffer? Right? This was a question Wayne had asked himself over and over again as he sat in his study, wondering how he could have been so foolish and irresponsible as to allow Tim to be captured by his arch nemesis.

Gordon sighed as he turned off the Batsignal, flipping the switch and instantly removing the bright light from the hazy, charcoal sky. "Yeah." He turned to face the Dark Knight, instantly taking note how rough he looked. His square chin was grizzled with a very noticeable five o' clock shadow, and his posture almost suggested that he was tired. "Uh, did you have a few run-ins tonight?" He asked, unable to stop himself.

"No."

"Okay then…" The Commissioner sighed before reaching into his pocket to pull out a playing card. The second the object caught Batman's eyes, a visible scowl crossed his face. "This was found at the site of an arson in downtown Gotham." He handed the card over to Wayne's gloved hands, allowing him to take a good look at the card.

A joker face card… Of course. Should he have suspected anything else? A scarecrow? A question mark? A coin? No, of course it was a joker. Of course it was something to stir up that rotten memory from four months ago. However, Bruce was given no choice but to hold his resentment behind his mask, as his emotions always had to be left at the door when he donned the cape and cowl.

"A copycat." He said in a cold, emotionless tone. "But a good copycat at that."

"What do you mean?" Gordon asked, walking up to Batman's side so he could peer over his shoulder and look at the card as well.

"Not only are these the same brand of cards The Joker used, but they also have his signature." He pointed towards a small, cursive, two letter signature that read 'J&H'. "Not only that, but they used the same type of ink too." He rubbed his thumb against the writing, causing the ink to smear. "And it was written with a feathered pin."

"Damn good copycat." Gordon snickered. "Who could possibly know that much about The Joker?"

Batman handed the card back to Gordon, a frown spread across his face. "There's only one that comes to mind."

The Commissioner shook his head. "Quinn's dead. She fell to her death back in the guts of Arkham."

The Dark Knight strode by Gordon, walking to the edge of the rooftop. "A body was never found."

Gordon huffed. "Wishful thinking, I guess." He chuckled with an insincere laugh, trying to lighten the mood. When he saw that Batman kept his scowl, he cleared his throat and continued speaking. "I was able to snag that card before any of the other officers noticed, and it's best this stays between me and you."

"Trust me Jim, it will." Batman's gaze continued to look over the dark cityscape, gritting his teeth as he thought to himself what that vile woman and her psychotic boyfriend did to Tim. "All of this ends tonight." His tone almost sounded like he was trying to mask malicious intentions.

"Where would you even start to look?" The Commissioner asked, knowing that he had nothing to go by except the card.

Batman peered over his shoulder, staring into Jim, inadvertently sending shivers down the Commissioner's spine. "Where it all started, the Ace Chemical Plant."

The derelict Ace Chemical Plant loomed next to Gotham Bay, it's steam pipes no longer releasing their hazardous gasses into the air, and their waste pipes no longer spewing leftover chemicals into the water. Why it still remained standing was a question no one could ever hope to answer. Even though all the citizens of Gotham wished for it to be destroyed, the city would never do it for one reason or another, allowing this constant reminder of the monster it created just over ten years ago to remain standing.

Batman pulled out his binoculars, zooming in on the building from afar as he knelt atop of a gargoyle . As his view of the exterior of the structure became more visible, he began to see humanoid shapes walking along the outside catwalks. Upon further inspection he could see they were wearing clown makeup as well as wielding automatic weapons.

The Dark Knight lifted himself up, diving down from his perch and using the wind to get him closer to the Ace Chemicals building. Once he landed on the catwalk, he quickly subdued the two guards with little issue. The first didn't see the sleeper hold coming, the second may have let out a gasp before being punched square across the jaw. The first punch wasn't enough to knock him out though, so Batman quickly delivered a swift roundhouse kick to the temple; that was enough.

With the outside watch no longer an issue, the Caped Crusader slowly opened one of the old metal doors leading inside. It made an awful screech as he did so, but it seemed to warrant no attention from any nearby guards; that is if there were any to begin with.

The interior of Ace Chemicals was just what Batman expected. All of the chemical vats were empty, but other than that it looked more or less the exact same as it did all those years ago. The Joker always liked to keep this place looking like it did in the old days. It gave him a sense of nostalgia to mentally relive the day he obtained a physical appearance to match his monstrous soul. It came as no surprise to Batman that Harley would honor those wishes even after his death.

Batman walked up to the railing of the catwalk, looking down at the ground floor to see if there were anymore thugs spread about. Seeing that the room was clear, he decided to leap from the catwalk and slowly descended to the concrete floor, using his cape to slow his fall.

"Well, well, well…." A female voice with a nasally inner-city accent echoed throughout the room. "If it isn't the B-Man himself!" Hatred filled her voice. If her words were knives, they would have ripped into Wayne's flesh and peeled the skin from his bones. "I knew you'd show up!"

"Quinn!" He roared, his voice reverberating throughout the room. "This is over! Come out now!"

"Ain't happenin', Bats!"

Bruce tried to listen for the source of her voice, but the powerful echoes made it sound like her vengeful voice was coming from four different locations. "Harley, if you come peacefully they might go easy on you!"

"You're not in a position to be makin' demands, Batman!" She snarled. "I hope you haven't forgotten I know who it is behind that mask!"

Bruce growled, remembering that she and The Joker had learned his identity through torturing Tim during his two week stay with the psychotic couple. "Harley, this is your last chance!" His voice had never been filled with so much rage since that night in the ruins of Arkham. "Come out now!"

"I've got a better idea, B-Man." She snapped. "How about I have some of my friends 'escort' you to me?" As these words rang into Batman's ears he could hear the sound of the huge factory door behind him slide open. As he turned to face the sound, he was met by the view of a mob of seventeen burly men wearing clown face paint, all of them eyeing him as they cracked their wrists and knuckles. "Meet The Jokerz, B-Man!"

The mob began to rush the Dark Knight, who was beginning to take a fighting stance. He had dealt with fighting large groups before, but when he did, he always had backup on his side. Dick, Barbara, Tim…. Never again though, never ever again. He had to fight this battle alone, he had to end this alone.

The first one who tried to move in on Bruce had his left radius snapped like a twig. As the thug fell to the floor screaming, the others stopped for a brief moment, having second thoughts as they watched their fallen comrade quiver in pain as he held his broken arm. However, Harley's harsh commands were enough to get them motivated to move in for another attack.

A left punch, a right kick, followed by an elbow to the jaw. Batman tried to keep his moves fast and rapid, not allowing anyone to get in close to him. Whenever someone did, he'd take hold of whatever limb he could get grab first and either break it or use it to swing them into one of their buddies.

Despite his incredible feats of strength, speed, agility, and martial prowess though, he was quickly finding himself fatigued as the brawl raged on. Six of them laid on the ground with either a broken arm, leg, or both. One of them was lying on the ground, holding his hands up to his bruised, possibly broken ribs. The rest of them still remained standing, albeit all of them had some sort of wound to show for it. Let it be a busted lip, a black eye, or a broken nose.

Though all the remaining goons were far more exhausted than Batman, they still had the number advantage. Wayne continued to wail on them with all the strength he could possibly muster, holding nothing back. Punches to the trachea? Fair game. Using the spikes on his gauntlets to cut across their faces? That's okay. Bending someone's arm behind their back so far that it pops and dislocates so badly that they'll be taking pain meds for the rest of their lives? They knew what they were getting into when they signed up to fight The Batman.

Slowly, one by one those remaining standing started to fall to the floor either from being knocked unconscious, or passing on from sheer pain and exhaustion. Only three remained standing, two behind him and one in front of him. The pair in the back tried to go in for a double team, but where met with a hard elbow to the face for each of them, followed by a smashing of their heads.

The last thug slowly began to stumble back as The vengeful Dark Knight directed his deadly gaze in his direction. Realizing this was a fight had no chance of winning, he pivoted on his right foot and took off back to the door he entered through. Before he could make it though, a batarang hit him hard in the back of the head, sending him into a state of unconsciousness.

"What?!" Harley shrieked, dumbstruck by the sight of her entire gang lying defeated at her enemy's feet. "How did you do that?!"

"Quinn!" He bellowed, the veins in his neck tightening as he did so. "Where are you?!"

Sighing, Harley replied. "Just go through that door behind you, and go up the stairs, Bats." Wayne quickly spun around, his cape spinning with him. Before him lied a heavy industrial door that had a sign hanging above it reading 'Manager's Office', with an arrow point upward. As his lungs greedily sucked in air, Batman looked above the door and saw that about two stories above him was a glassless window. Behind the window he could see Harley's painted face in her jester cowl looking down at him.

Without even saying a word, Wayne raised his bat-grapple and fired it at the edge of the window, latching onto it and pulling himself up to the manager's office. As the line retracted and pulled him upward, he could hear a shriek come from Harley as she was no doubt surprised by his direct approach.

As he pulled himself in through the window, he was met by an empty room and the sound of a slamming door. He leapt down from the window sill and sprinted towards the door, flinging it open and pursing the fleeing clown.

He could here her footsteps echoing through the halls as the soles of her shoes met the metal grating of the floor. Bruce continued to follow the sounds of her footsteps, leading him up a flight of stairs. Once he rounded the corner atop the stairs, he could see her running down a long, narrow hallway.

"You're too slow, Batman!" She shouted as she grabbed onto a pipe that hung above her, using her forward momentum as well as her excellent gymnastic skills to shoot herself forward feet first, sending her flying through a small opening above the door in front of her.

Grunting, Batman picked up the pace and flung the door open, continuing his pursuit of Harley Quinn. Her footsteps were still echoing throughout the halls, and it was clear she was trying to make a b-line for the roof when he heard the sound of her shoes echoing as they collided with the hollow metal grips of a nearby ladder.

With his lungs still on fire from his recent fight, and growing even worse due to this chase, Batman subconsciously began to slow down once he figured out that she was heading to a dead end. Once she was on the roof, she'd have nowhere to hide. Unless she was going to…..

"Jump!" Batman exclaimed to himself, under the horrible realization that someone as unbalanced as her might not express a second thought in regards to suicide. Forcing his lungs to cooperate, Batman powered through and picked up his pace as he swiftly climbed up the ladder.

Once he reached the top of the ladder, he ran into a hatch on the ceiling. He quickly turned the wheel on the hatch and pushed it open, revealing one last flight of stairs leading to the door to the roof. The second he stepped foot onto the stairs, he could see Harley slam the door behind her.

With all the possible strength he could muster in his tired heart and lungs, he made one last mad dash to the door, flinging it open as soon as he came within reach of the door's latch. However when he opened the door, he was slightly caught off guard when he was met by silhouette of Harley against the moonlight with a 38. revolver pointed directly at him.

"Die, you murderer!" She shrieked, pulling the trigger.

Wayne quickly dove down to avoid the first shot, taking cover behind an old ventilation unit. "Harley, put the gun down!" He commanded. "It's not too late for you! You don't have to live a life of crime anymore!"

His words fell on deaf ears, as she held her aim on Batman's cover, waiting for him to peak his pointy little head out so she could blow it off. "That's a load of crap! They'll just haul me off to that new nuthouse and throw away the key!"

"No they won't, Harley." Bruce said, trying catching his breath and ease his heart rate. "The Joker did this to you, and they can help you."

"My Puddin' did nothin' to me!" She cried, a tear rolling down her cheek as she pulled the trigger once more. Once the bang had rang through their ears, they could hear the bullet hit the metal hunk of cover Batman was using, causing the bullet to harmlessly bounce off.

Realizing that Harley was a bit surprised by her unintentional shot, he used the opportunity to charge forward and take cover behind one of the chimneys. As he made his mad dash, Quinn fired two more rounds from the revolver at Batman, but his agility proved to get the better of her aim.

"Why did you do this Harley?!" The Dark Knight growled from behind his cover. "You were thought to be dead, you could have gotten away!"

"I couldn't let Mistah J.'s murderer just get away with it!" Another series of tears began to pour from her blue eyes, causing her to take a moment to wipe them away with her sleeve, while maintaining her aim with her other hand.

"He brought that upon himself! You know as well as he did that the life he led could end in just the blink of an eye!"

"But you killed him!" She shrieked, trying to hold back another wave of tears. "You're The Batman! You never kill! Why did you have to start with my Puddin'?!" Bruce didn't immediately respond, instead opting to take a breath and slow his heart rate down. "Wayne!" She cried, using his real name. "Why did you kill him?!"

He took another deep breath, replying in a calm tone. "I didn't kill him, Harley." He paused. "His death was accidental. Tim was unable to think at the time. He was so unstable because of The Joker's torture that when he had the gun in his hand, he turned it on The Joker."

There was a momentary silence as Harley had to take a moment to process what was being told to her. "T..T..Tim did it?" She sniffed, trying to hold back another set of tears.

"He only did it because of The Joker's torture." Batman said once again, making sure that point was getting across to her.

"B…b…but he said there wasn't any torture at all?" Her breathing began to pick up as she took this in. "Mistah J. just said he had to relearn a few things, that's all."

Bruce couldn't help but wonder to himself how a former psychologist like her would be so naïve as to believe that the drastic changes they made to Tim wouldn't cause any long lasting physical or psychological trauma. However, her words were sincere. And if there was one thing Harley wasn't, it was a good liar.

"No!" She screamed as a series of tears fell to her feet. "You're lying! You have to be! M..M..Mistah J. said that…"

"He lied to you, Harley." Batman said in the closest thing he could muster to a soothing tone, trying to calm her down.

"Stop it! Stop it!" She cried, holding her left hand to her head as the steady river of tears continued to flow from her eyes, but still keeping her aim on Batman's cover. "You're making me confused!"

"Harley, I know it's hard to take in, but the truth is The Joker lied to you. Tim went through a lot of pain and a lot of psychological trauma that he'll never fully recover from because of what The Joker did to him."

"Shuddup!" Quinn cried, taking hold of the gun with both hands, allowing for her tears to continue streaming. "Mistah J. said he'd never hurt em'! He said that he just wanted to make sure Tim would be the perfect big brother!"

"What?" Batman whispered only loud enough for himself to hear it.

"He said we'd all be one big happy famil-" Before she could finish speaking, Batman leapt out from behind his cover, causing Harley to instinctively shoot. The first shot missed though. As she took aim to fire again, Batman leapt out of the way once more before she could pull the trigger, causing her to miss a second time. He was now right on her. Harley pulled the revolver on him and tried to fire again, but all she heard was a click.

"No…." She wept, trying to pull the trigger again, only to hear nothing but more clicks. "No! No! No! No! No!" She threw the gun to the ground and began to try to pound on Batman's chest with her balled up fists, but his thick chest armor proved to be too thick for there to be any success in her last ditch attack.

"Harley!" He snarled, grabbing her wrists and causing her tear-filled eyes to look up to him. "You said The Joker was trying to make him the perfect big brother, what does that mean?"

Harley averted her eyes from his and looked down at her feet, a few more tear drops falling to the ground as she weakly spoke. "Figure it out yourself, B-Man."

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" He didn't get an answer from Harley, instead she just tilted her head even further down, almost looking to be ashamed of herself. "You're pregnant with The Joker's child?"

She replied, but only in the form of a weak nod.

Batman let out a deep sigh that sounded more like a groan as he let go of Harley's wrists. "Why didn't you run away after what happened at Arkham?" He asked, knowing that he'd already received an answer earlier, but now feeling even more perplexed due to this recent discovery. "Everyone thought you were dead. No one would have looked for you." He paused. "You could have raised your child without the fear of your past coming back to haunt you."

"I was gonna do that." She sobbed. "But I needed to kill you first."

"Why? Other than sheer vengeance, what would you have obtained from that?"

"I don't know!" Harley screamed. "I just wanted Mistah J. back… And killing his killer was the next best thing!"

"Harley…" Bruce placed a hand on her shoulder, but was quickly brushed off by her as she took a step back from him.

"Don't touch me!" Harley barked before turning around and crouching down into a ball, wrapping her arms around her knees as she looked off into the cityscape. "I wasn't ever gonna commit another crime again. I just wanted to get your attention, kill ya, and then live a normal life with my babies."

Batman raised an eyebrow "Babies?"

"Bud and Lou." She peered over her shoulder and looked up at the towering Dark Knight. However he kept his puzzled look. "The hyenas." She added.

"Oh."

"I guess that's down the toilet now." She moaned, feeling the urge to cry, only to find that she had shed all the tears she had left in her. "You're going to haul me off to whatever nuthouse they're puttin' us in now, and the state'll take my little Jacky away."

"So it's a boy?"

"Uh huh."

The two remained silent, neither one of them saying a word. At this point Bruce could have hauled her down to the GCPD and be done with this forever. However, something was keeping him from doing that. Some sort of unknown force in his heart was keeping him from cuffing her, and dragging her down to the Batmobile.

"So you didn't kill Mistah J.?" She asked, silently looking down at the streets below her.

"No," He replied. "If it was up to me, he'd be alive right now."

Harley let out a weak laugh. "Well, I guess this whole fiasco was just one big misunderstanding then, huh?" She paused to take a breath. "I bet Mistah J. is looking down right now laughing at us."

Batman huffed under his breath, knowing that wherever The Joker ended up in the afterlife, he certainly wouldn't be looking down on anyone. However he dismissed this notion, as he wasn't going to try to go out of his way to upset Harley.

"I know ya think he never loved me," Harley began to speak once again. "and truth be told, I don't blame ya for thinkin' that." Quinn kept her gaze at the street below as she continued. "He was always hard on me whenever we were in public or around the hired help, but he just did that for appearances. Sometimes he'd even act like that when we were alone, but only if he was makin' some big plans or somethin'." She cracked a smile, thinking back to the days her and her Puddin' would spend together. "When there weren't any distractions though, he was like a porcelain-skinned angel."

Wayne raised an eyebrow, slightly confused by her odd way of romantically describing The Joker, but then again their relationship was something he never even entertained the idea of trying to understand.

"Sometimes he'd come home and have a box of flowers that he stole from somewhere. Maybe a new purse or a new dress. One time he even brought home a box-set of 'I Love Lucy', and we spent every night for a week after that cuddled up together watchin' it as we fell asleep."

"I never took The Joker for the romantic, snuggling type." Batman uttered, not really meaning anything by it.

"He said he loved me before." This caused Batman to narrow his eyes, and throw a confused look towards Harley, waiting for her explanation. "It was when he busted me out of Arkham after that time I chained you upside down over a tank full of piranhas." She paused for a moment. "You remember which one, I'm talkin' about, right?"

"How could I forget?" He said plainly.

Shrugging, Harley continued. "Well anyways, at first I didn't want to go with him. I was still kinda mad at him for throwin' me out a window. So while the riot was goin' on, he walked up to me, grabbed me by the shoulders, and looked me dead in the eyes. Then he said "Harley, I've never said this to anyone before, and don't expect me to ever say it again. But I do love you. You're probably the only person I ever loved besides myself. So will you please come with me?" Harley paused so she could let out a laugh. "He swore he'd kill me if I told anyone about that." she chuckled once more. "I guess he can't do anything about it now, can he?"

"No he can't." Batman looked off into the cityscape, trying to take in everything that Harley had said. Initially he was going to pass it off as The Joker lying to her. However even if he was lying, for The Joker to lie about love? The notion of love was a subject that was so taboo for him that even the idea of lying about it must have made his stomach cringe. Who knew? Maybe he was telling the truth, or maybe not.

Harley let out a sigh, realizing that their little conversation was probably going to end soon with Batman throwing cuffs around her wrists. "I guess you're gonna take me to jail now?" Her voice hinted sorrow, but her emotions were practically numb from all of the crying she had done in the past few minutes.

"No."

Her eyes widened, causing her to spring up and turn to the Dark Knight, almost as if to ask "What do you mean 'no'?". When she looked into his eyes though, she saw something that she'd never seen in him before. It wasn't sympathy. It wasn't empathy. It wasn't any of those feelings of understanding another. What she saw in his eyes was… hope.

"Harleen Quinzel," Batman spoke, looking her dead in the eyes. "You've done a lot of terrible things in your life only so you could please the man you love, and The Joker has committed countless atrocities that could never be forgiven. However, you can still redeem those atrocities."

"W..What do you mean?" Harley felt another set of tears start to form. It turned out she did indeed have more to shed.

"Harley, this not only is your chance to escape, but this is your chance to justify The Joker's existence."

"I…I still don't understand what you mean?" The tears were starting to flow now, but she didn't know why. Was it because for the first time since The Joker died that she was starting to feel a sense of hope? A sense that the light at the end of the tunnel actually wasn't another train coming to run her over?

"Harley," Bruce placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Take this child and raise him right. Raise him to be a good person. Raise him to be better than you or The Joker ever were. If this child goes on to do great things for the world, then perhaps that can one day redeem all of the terrible things The Joker has done to it."

"You…You really think it could?" She brushed off another series of tears, feeling a lightness in her stomach as she heard these words.

"I know they could, and I know you can do this. At heart you really are a good girl, Harleen. It's just you were led astray." He placed his other hand on her other shoulder and gripped her slightly, making sure she heard what he had to say. "Leave this place! Leave Gotham! Go somewhere away from all this crime and corruption! Go somewhere where the evils of this city won't affect him. Please Harleen, just go and never come back."

Harley nodded, her mouth slightly agape. "Okay, Batman… I will." She raised her hands to her face, one ripping off her mask, the other ripping off her cowl. Her long blonde hair began to flow in the wind as it was set free. She then ran her hands over her already badly smeared makeup and tried to wipe it off of her face, only removing a few blotches of it. "I'll do what I can to make this work."

Bruce nodded before turning away from her, walking to the edge of the building, his figure framed by the moonlight. "Thank you, Dr. Quinzel."

"Napier." She whimpered.

Batman raised an eyebrow, and threw a sideways glace at her. "The Joker's last name?"

Harley nodded. "It doesn't matter which side of the law I'm on, or even if he was a monster. I loved him Batman. I still love him, and I'll always love him."

The Dark Knight took a deep breath before replying. "I understand."

"I figured you would."

Batman turned to face the moon, turning his back completely on Harley. "Go get your pets and get out of this city. Don't worry about money. Just open up your alias account and there will be enough money for you to make a new life somewhere else."

Harley snickered under her breath, not expecting to receive charity from Bruce Wayne. "Thanks… Bruce."

"Don't thank me." He replied. "Just do the right thing, and raise him well." He took a deep breath before saying his last words to her. "Goodbye Harleen Napier, we will never meet again." Batman prepared to leap off of the building, but was stopped by Harley calling out to him.

"Wait!" She cried.

Bruce turned his head to her, but didn't say a word, only awaiting to hear what she had to say.

Harley took a deep breath, trying to gather up the courage to speak. "I just wanted to say…. I'm sorry for what happened to Tim."

Bruce frowned, being brought back to the memory that he wished he could just forget, but he was able to push this memory aside to utter his last two words to her. "You're forgiven." With that, Batman leapt from the building, extending his cape and gliding across the Gotham sky.

As Batman soared away, he thought to himself how he would explain this to Gordon. He could tell him that he let Harley get away, but that might lead to Gordon sending out a search squad to find Harley since he wouldn't pursue her. Perhaps it would just be better to tell him he found nothing here. Perhaps he should just tell him all he found was an empty shell of a building filled with nothing but bad memories. Perhaps it was just best if he forgot all about what had happened here tonight and just let the world move on now that this final loose end had been tied.

Meanwhile, atop of Ace Chemicals, Harley stood with her two Hyenas whom she had just called for, watching Batman as the Dark Knight of Gotham City soared off into the distance, vanishing into the night sky. As she watched him, she felt a smile form as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. She placed her hand over her stomach, rubbing it as she looked down lovingly at her unborn child.

"He really is a hero, ain't he Jacky?" As another tear rolled down her cheek, she looked up to the clear night sky. It wasn't often that Gotham had a clear night sky. Harley took this as an omen that Mistah J. was looking down on her at this very moment, watching her as she started her life anew.

This story is actually something to kinda test the waters. Do you think I should do more Batman fics? I've had a pretty good idea for a story, but if I can't properly recreate the feeling of Batman, then I don't want to waste my time with it. So I'd like to hear your opinions for those reasons. If there is something good about it, tell me what you liked, and more importantly if there was something you hated or didn't like about it, please tell me. You're not going to hurt my feelings.

With that said though, I hope you enjoyed this little story and hopefully I'll be posting more like it in the future.

See ya!