Batman Begins/Dark Knight 1. Chapter 1

**Dawn of the Triad**

**Summary:** Renamed. The Joker liked to watch. He liked the fact that he was the only one who got to watch her alone in that little black room. She would never see his face. Never see the scars. And that was her one downfall in the end. Ashlee falls into the deep end and may end up losing her life if she doesn't play the games of Gotham's Triad. Features The Riddler, Poison Ivy and more.

**Genre: **M for language, adult situations, and later chapters.

**Pairing: **Joker/OC

**Author's Note: **So I'm pumping out a few starting chapters. Presently the first two are from my Joker fics. I have a third one in works for him and then I have a Bane fanfic in works also. Hey, what can I say. I don't like doing things in small goes. Plus, I sorta have trouble keeping my head on one thing at a time, always have, and I think I always will.

I have decided to alter this fiction and the story lines previously decided upon. It is still centered round Ashlee and the Joker but it now has a much more expansive story arc.

**Disclaimer: **All the locations, characters and story arcs within the DC Comic and Nolan-verse belong to their respective owners. I only claim ownership over my original characters and the major story arcs that were created solely for the purpose of this work of fan fiction. No money is being made from this work. It is for entertainment value only.

**Searching for a beta for this one too. If interested, just drop me a line.**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

She was known for her dancing. Maybe not in the way she once dreamed of but the money she drew in night by night brought her a little satisfaction that her skills paid off. The heavy thudding of her favourite dance music, an alternate rock piece by Emphatic titled _Do I_. She swung her hips in motion with the bass, her hands sliding up over her belly and then back down into the waistband of her panties.

Ashlee hated damn thongs, she hated them riding up her butt as she danced and knew there was more money in having some bits left to the imagination. Because they'd throw notes at her, calling and cheering for her to always strip of those last shreds of clothing, last shreds of dignity and bare all.

She never did. Marco, the house DJ, had made it a point of helping her time her dance so she'd just pop the clips on her skimpy bra and have it held over her chest in torment right as the song ended.

And it happened tonight, like it did every other night. She danced like the men weren't around the stage, weren't tossing money at her. No, she was off in her own little world with just herself and the music.

* * *

He watched from the corner of the room. He'd always sit there with his boys, no masks and the make-up completely washed off. While he disliked the alcohol and drugs that ran round the main house of the strip club, he didn't mind the entertainment. Well, he didn't mind one entertainer in particular.

Angel, they called her. She was pretty enough to be one, even without the tiny little wings strapped to her back. But it wasn't the beauty that drew his eye. No, it was the damage behind those sparkling, unsmiling cobalt puppies that were her eyes. Something had damaged the girl and the Joker knew whatever it was, had been enough to leave a permanent mark.

She knew how to draw in the crowd. Each time they came in, she'd put on one of two routines. A little angel outfit and some of his favourite rock music or she'd come out in a sparkling suit and her face painted up.

He had been itching to grab a hold of her but whenever he sent his boys to ask for her; they were pushed away and told she didn't do back room jobs. The Joker had tasted to connect two and two together quite quickly. The way she never revealed even her chest, the way her smile – and it was a pretty smile – never made it to her eyes and the refusal to go into the back rooms with men and give them their monies worth.

The damage had been rape. Or along those lines, he had surmised.

The Joker however wasn't a man to not get what he wanted. If he was truly impatient he could always saunter in with his full Joker attire and threaten to bomb the place and everyone in it to pieces but he didn't.

No, he wanted to meet Angel without the trouble of threats; he wanted to see what the woman was like beneath the onstage facade. He wanted her to dance like she did for him and him alone. Her eyes shut and her body moving so fluidly along that it seemed as though she were floating among the smoke after than jerking through it like the other girls.

"Hey boss, want us to go up and ask?" Chuckles inquired.

The Joker shook his head. He knew Chuckles and Krusty would be turned away without hesitation by the owner of the club but maybe the Joker himself could convince him tonight.

Slipping out from the booth and leaving his men behind to squander their money on the girls who walked the floor, the Joker casually sauntered towards where Arty Wesser sat at the far end of the bar, his eyes ogling the petite dancer on the stage.

* * *

Ashlee stepped through the curtains and into the dark hallway of the backstage area and leaned back against the wall for a moment. Letting out a shaky breath, she clipped her bra back into place and then padded down the hall, not uttering a peep to the girl who was making her way onto the main stage.

She fell into the chair in front of her make-up table with a huff and tugged the angel wings from her shoulders. Leaning her head down onto the cool table, she sighed wearily. Another night, another eight hundred bucks from the boys near the main stage and another night of remembering, was finally over.

"You okay, sweetpea?"

Lifting her head, she glanced over to where Monique, a busty African American stripper sat brushing powder over her naked chest, making her breasts shimmer and stand out more. Ashlee just gave a nod, her eyes averting in slight embarrassment at staring at the other woman's unabashed nudity.

"Yeah, I'm good, just took a lot out of me tonight," she murmured back, picking up her bottle of water and chugging it down in one go.

* * *

The Joker wanted to cackle in delight and utter glee. He was getting a backroom visit with the pretty little Angel. Apparently Arty knew not to mess with a man who held a switchblade to his balls. Arty had even been kind enough to take double the money he normally charged for backroom time with the girls as a way of not feeling like he'd lost out on the _agreement_.

Now just to mozzie on to the backroom marked seven, he laughed like a hyena, lucky seven with the bouncer guiding the way. He wondered how the little Angel would take the news she would be in a room with a man and made to dance for him.

He mulled over the various thoughts jumping through his head as the bouncer listed off "_the rules"_ that he had to keep to if he was wanted to make it out of the room alive. The Joker felt like a kid in a candy store, he couldn't hold back the demented giggle that bubbled forth when the bouncer had threatened him if he dared place a wrong hand on the girl.

But if the Joker did lay a hand on Angel, he knew she'd be dead before the bouncer could get down the hall and into the room and he'd be armed with his trusty switchblade and custom boot-blade.

However, the Joker showed some sense of decorum. No, he didn't want to spill the Angel's blood. He wanted to watch her dance. He wanted to tease her. He wanted to play with her head. He wanted to flesh out the hurt. The Joker wanted to find out just who the real girl behind Angel was and tonight, he was going to advance on phase one: find out her name.

* * *

Ashlee sat staring at her employer in the mirror, her eyes wide in utter shock. "You- You want me to work one of the back rooms?!" she squeaked in well restrained rage.

Arty had the decency to look somewhat guilty and upset over the matter but the fact that he'd placed a large amount of cash in front of her; Ash could tell right away he was only putting a front up to try and convince her that she should go into room seven and dance for the client.

"He paid well, Angel. Look, he promised no hands on. He just wanted to watch ya, come on. Honestly, it won't be that bad girl and the guy ain't half bad looking, cept for those damn scars," Arty stated.

Ashlee frowned, wondering what the hell he was on about, but as she glanced at the large pile of money on her table, she felt herself leaning towards accepting. The money was tempting. It would pay her bills for the month with what she'd earned tonight and then she'd have some cash tucked away for a rainy day.

Hanging her head, she muttered she'd do it. Her movements into getting dressed back into her angel costume were shaky and she struggled to keep herself composed with each bit she tugged on. Sitting down in front of the mirror, she looked at herself and then to the make-up scattered across the table. Smiling as her eyes landed on the white face paint she absolutely adored, she grabbed the brush up beside it and then unscrewed the cap.

If she was gonna dance, she was gonna dance with a mask on. Raising the brush dipped in paint up to her left cheek she began to decorate it with an intricate pattern.

A little sparkle on the other cheek and her white knuckle length leather gloves and she would feel like a true angel in disguise.

* * *

The Joker sat in the dark, half the room was blacked out and he hid among the shadows, gripping the arms of his chair impatiently. Where the hell was she? Taking her damn time she was. He snarled, his temper flaring at the idea of being stood up by the girl. The damn pig of an owner wouldn't see it coming if they had just taken his money and decided to let him sit there in the dark for the night. He'd hang him from the club's sign by his entrails.

He was about to get up when the door creaked open the slightest bit and he scrambled back into the darkness.

"Um- hello," she whispered into the room. Her side was flooded with light so he could see her perfectly. Could see the way her fingers were trembling as she stepped into the room and smirked. Ah, there the little Angel was. "Arty sent me in. Sorry I took so look; had to get into costume and all."

She was quite soft spoken he noted, tilting his head curiously as he watched her walk over to the stereo player on the floor and couch down at it. He bit his lip, holding himself back from stepping into the light and grabbing her against him.

Definitely a pretty, tiny dancer she is indeed he thought.

"It's, ah, it's fine. I like, um, the make-up," he said back and saw her startle as she glanced over to where he sat shrouded in the shadows.

And like it he did. It was interesting to see the delicate shape she had painted onto her olive complexion.

"Thank you," she replied and then straightened up as a soft rhythm and blues song came through the system. "I don't know what music you might like me to dance to. There is so much to choose from, but ah, I like the rock genre better."

He nodded and rested his head in his palm as he sank into his chair. She was pretty but damaged just like he had thought so. He could tell she was nervous to be in the room and wanted to abate the fears. He wanted to see her dance, without restraint.

"Whatever you prefer, tiny dancer," he said back with a chuckle but then shifted in his chair. "You know, I truly just want to see you dance again, beautiful. You are truly captivating when you perform. No stripping required. No touching. No obscenities. I just want to see you dance. But, I want to know your name."

The girl had begun to relax up until he had said that last bit. He gathered Angel was just a stage name, maybe even a workplace name and he could tell when a person was lying to him. The question was, would she lie to him or outright give him her proper name?

"Angel is the name I go by here," she murmured back softly and the Joker grinned crookedly. Oh she was clever. Not a lie but a heeding.

"Angel is a very fitting name for you, tiny dancer but I bet your real name is even more beautiful than that," he drawled. She seemed to be trying to pierce the darkness with her eyes and find him amongst the shadows which made him chuckle and clap his hands together. "And no peeking at me, doll. I don't want to frighten you away before I get a chance to know ya."

The Joker knew that even without his war-paint, his scars had a terrible effect on people and he truly didn't want to see the tiny dancer run from the room in terror before he'd even got the chance to watch her.

"You can't be that ugly," she teased with a soft smile and the Joker bit back his laughter.

Oh sweetpea, if only you could truly see the face of your client, you wouldn't say that he mused to himself.

After a moment, she sighed and seemed to relax somewhat. "Okay, my real name is Ashlee. And yours?"

Very clever tiny dancer indeed, well alright you give a little, you get a little. "You can call me Jack."

"Well Jack, I'm going to put some music on and dance," she told him and he chuckled, rubbing a hand across his thigh absently tracing patterns up and down the leg of his faded and worn jeans. One of few shreds of clothing he wore that wasn't custom made. One of the only stitches of clothing that had lingered with him after he'd become his true self. His clothes that helped him blend in with the _"normals"_.

* * *

Ashlee wanted to smack herself silly for giving the client her name but had been somewhat surprised when he'd actually given her a name back. It might not be a real name she thought but it calmed her and the idea of this _Jack_ was better than just _some client_.

Popping a CD into the stereo from the case that read Ashlee's mix, she selected the third song and decided to just jump straight into things. The sooner she got done, the sooner she'd get out of the room. Admittedly, things hadn't gone as bad as she'd been imagining as she had approached the room and he didn't seem as much as a creep as she'd initially believed him to be.

Maybe this guy wouldn't be so bad to dance for. He certainly seemed to have the cash to spend. If she did her best, maybe he'd come back and she'd be able to come and dance for him. Heck, if he paid her as much as he had tonight each time he wanted her to dance, Ashlee wouldn't object to coming in here and performing, even if she could never see his face.

The heavy beat of Def Leppard came over the stereo and she smiled as she fell into the hardcore style of dancing she loved to use in sync with this song. Hey, it was the stripper anthem so why shouldn't she show him a bit more than the sad alternate rock dance. _Pour Some Sugar on Me_'s lyrics were reason enough for this to be a great dirty dance song.

Ashlee got lost in the song and the moves, her body never flattering as she swung her hips sinuously in time with the beat.

* * *

The Joker watched; he simply watched, hypnotised by the tiny dancer. His heart was beating hard in his chest and his cock was straining painfully against his jeans. He was beyond excited and yet he just watched her. Watched the way her hands would caress her own body, watch as her tongue would slide out to lick that full pouty bottom lip unconsciously and he'd mimic the motion with his own tongue against his bottom lip.

He sucked on his scars as he shifted his seat and his eyes slipped down to her exposed thighs. What he wouldn't give to sink his teeth into the olive and supple looking flesh. He wondered if she would taste as good as she looked, if she would be a firecracker in the sack, if she'd let him tie her up.

The Joker saw in Ashlee something he didn't see often in a woman, especially one as young as she seemed. He saw a dark flame in her pretty eyes. That dark flame was drawing him in too. He felt his stomach clench as she dropped down onto all fours and then leaned backwards, rolling her hips in a seemingly effortless rhythm.

He wanted those curvy, fully hips pressed up against his. He'd preferably have them naked when he did so. He wanted to bite that soft flesh at the meeting of her neck and shoulder and mark her.

The Joker realized as the music came to an end that he would be back for a second performance once she had ducked out of the room and left him to his thoughts. Once was not enough. No, he wanted to corrupt the tiny dancer. He wanted to make her want him enough that given time she'd come forward into the shadows and straddle his waist and take him.

Angel or really Ashlee had unknowingly become the target of Gotham's presently number one criminal and once the Joker had set his eyes on something, there was no swaying him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews, favourites, follows, alerts, etc, etc. I appreciate them muchly. You can visit my deviantART to check out what Ashlee looks like if you're wondering about her image. It is the same name as my penname on here.**

**Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter. ****Reviews, etc are welcome, I love hearing from my readers.**

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**CHAPTER TWO**

Ashlee tugged her long overcoat tighter round herself and pushed open the back door of the club. She hated winter and even more so since people had started disappearing during the nights. Part of her wondered at the hopelessness of the Gotham City Police Department and their inability to protect the people of Gotham and yet another part knew that the police could only do so much when they were stretched to their limits.

She felt for the switchblade she kept tucked into the pocket of her jacket and felt a little more at ease knowing she could, if the need arose, protect herself in some way.

The alley that the back of the club opened onto was thankfully devoid of life. A condition the girls had made with Arty was that if they were to work there they needed a little bit of protection that if they left after their shift they weren't going to be jumped by the homeless out the back.

And he'd complied.

Ashlee had never intended to stay for as long as she had in the business. She'd told herself in the beginning it was because no one had wanted to hire her, that without a college degree the only jobs that she'd be wanted for were either stripping or working behind a checkout. Both of the jobs she'd despised but at least stripping earned more money.

It paid her bills, her rent and the in her first year it had paid for her online college course. She sighed as she tucked herself deeper into her jacket as she headed out onto the main drag and cut left, heading deeper into the Narrows.

She had the option of getting home and falling straight onto her bed or staying up and studying and playing with Emery, her little terrier.

"Such is the life of the poor," she mused to herself. "No high end parties, no designer shoes, no hot ride, no gorgeous playboy boyfriend." Ashlee laughed. "Eh, who wants all that when life is much more fun when you have to fight for it."

* * *

The Joker sat in the chair after the tiny dancer had disappeared, head resting in his hand and deep in thought. His mind was racing a million miles a second. His fingers itched to touch the Angel so bad. It was rare for him to want physical contact, especially with a woman.

He saw the want as a weakness. He saw it as a way for his goons to start questioning things, questioning him. He didn't like it either and yet he couldn't fight the urge that had jumped into his gut when Angel had first come into his line of sight.

And now he'd gotten up close to the dancer, he wanted another show. He smirked. The owner of this _prestigious_ joint wouldn't turn the money he'd fork over to spend time with Ashlee either, the Joker knew greedy and Arty was everything that personified greed. He had no doubt that Ashlee hadn't gotten even half the money he'd handed over to the stooge. It irritated him to.

Pushing himself out of the chair, he slipped out of the room and down the hall, humming and sucking on his scars as he skipped down the hall.

He would make sure that the next time he got a dance from Ashlee that she'd get all the cash he handed over. He couldn't wait to see the surprise that would light up her pretty eyes.

The Joker cared little for money but with all the cash from the recent bank heists he and the boys had pulled off outside of Gotham, he knew that they'd get greedy just like Wesser and he didn't want to have to get rid of such handy helpers. They were doing bang up jobs. Better than his previous lot of goons had but he'd not hesitate to put a bullet between their eyes if they crossed him or screwed up one of his plans.

No, the Joker was of simple tastes; dynamite, gasoline, knives, and now Ashlee had been added to his list. And he did consider her simple. She wasn't a pawn in one of his grand schemes. He knew where she would be at night and he knew just how to get a hold of her.

His tongue flicked out and ran along his bottom, scarred lip and he grinned wickedly as he headed to collect his boys.

* * *

Ashlee pushed open her apartment door and smiled as she heard the tapping of little feet on the wooden floor. "Hey my little man, enjoy your night of laziness?" she inquired, laughing as the tiny terrier came rushing down the hall towards her, tail wagging and tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Shaking her head as she tugged her jacket off and hung it up on the hook by the door, she turned and bolted the door tight before crouching down to meet her little baby.

At two months old, Emery was a tri-coloured short legged JackRussell and like a little baby to Ashlee. He slept in bed with her, was only just bigger than her two hands and he was like a little shadow. She scratched behind his ear and giggled when he fell to the floor.

She straightened up and headed into the kitchen. Taps followed her and she giggled before bending down and scooping her little baby up and putting him on the little stool that gave him a view of the entire kitchen benches and yet safe enough away that he couldn't jump onto the bench.

"So, my furball, what are you thinking we should have for dinner?" she inquired, unbuttoning the three little buttons on her v-neck, elbow length grey shirt and then started pulling the pins out of her hair. "I could order us pizza, or I could make us some pasta." She glanced across at her pet and saw him sitting on the stool with his head cocked to the side. Giggling, she shrugged her shoulders. "Pasta it is."

Ashlee set to work cooking, occasionally talking to her puppy like he was going to reply and even told him about work, especially about _Jack_. She paused in the middle of cutting up some carrots and glanced across at where her purse sat on the far end of the bench, barely able to close properly with the amount of notes crammed into it.

"Wonder if he'll come back?" she asked Emery while stirring the pasta.

She then began to wonder what he looked like. Is he blonde with blue eyes? Maybe he has black hair and light eyes. All the possibilities of his identity were endless, did he had long straight hair pulled back into a ponytail or was it short and curly?

All of the results she came to ended with him looking cuter and cuter than the previous and yet she found herself beginning to wonder just why he had hidden himself in the dark. He couldn't be that ugly. He certainly didn't sound ugly; his voice was deep and the drawl was very shiver worthy.

She giggled then and wondered if he was shy, if that was his first visit to a strip club. She hoped she'd made it a memorable and worthwhile time for him.

Ashlee wasn't like the other girls, she knew that. She wasn't rough, wasn't demanding and wasn't ripping the guys off. She made sure to keep in the good books with the guys. Strip clubs in the Narrows certainly didn't attract fine upstanding members of Gotham society and she'd seen personally the damage some of them could inflict on the girls when they pissed them off for one reason or the other.

She shuddered remembering the night they'd found one of the girls in the back alley with her face and stomach sliced up in a particularly nasty way. Whoever had done the job had been quick and precise.

Ashlee didn't want to think what would have happened if it had have been her instead of Julie aka Babydoll.

Sighing, she turned and noticed with a smile that Emery was sniffing at the window sill as though something had caught his attention. "Hey cutie pie, you hungry or you too busy playing detective?" she inquired as she scooped the pasta onto a small plate and then some into a bowl for herself.

Emery looked at her, tail wagging a hundred miles a minute. She frowned as he ignored the offer for food and then turned his head back to the windowsill.

Frowning, she set down her bowl and his plate and moved over to the windowsill. Picking him up and putting him on the floor, she unlocked the window and with a little bit of work pushed the window open. She stuck her head out and looked round.

Nothing was there. Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, she pulled the window shut and relocked it before turning and offering Emery his plate of food.

"Must've been a pigeon," she told herself and headed into the living room.

Strange, Emery normally barked at the damn birds who liked to plague her fire escape.

* * *

The Joker cocked his head to the side as he sat above her fire escape, watching as she disappeared back inside and grinned wickedly. He'd be able to get that window open without any trouble if he wanted to.

Carefully climbing back down onto the fire escape he noticed the little mutt she had with her wasn't near the window and wanted to chuckle. He could of always drowned the little rat if he felt like it.

He had made sure that he'd tailed her when she'd finally left the dump of the strip club known as Arty's Diamonds. He'd changed out of the rags he'd been wearing feeling much more comfortable once back in his war paint and actual clothes.

He'd been fixated on watching her as she'd flitted about the kitchen like some little happy fairy. She liked to talk to the little mutt quite a lot. He wondered then if she wasn't two shades of crazy.

Sucking on his scars as he landed on the ground, he straightened himself up and strode down towards the van. He now had a name and an address.

"Chuckles, I want you to stay behind and keep an eye on the place. Tail the girl but don't get noticed," he ordered. "And hand over your mask."

Chuckles nodded quickly and climbed out of the back of the van, switching places with his boss and reluctantly taking his mask off and handing it over to Doc who was in the driver's seat.

"Should I call ya if anything comes up?" he asked.

The Joker eyed him for a moment, sucking on his scars and Chuckles resisted shuddering. He truly was glad to be getting away from his boss for a few days but he also didn't want to screw it all up and end up lying in a pool of his own blood for not doing what he was meant to do.

After a moment, the Joker nodded right before he slid the van door shut and the van sped off into the darkness.

* * *

Ashlee heard the sound of wheels screeching and winced. She huffed and tugged the large sleep shirt round her shoulders and then did the top three bottoms up before sliding a pair of satin boxers up her legs.

Emery had already taken up his place on the right side pillow of the bed and curled himself into a ball. His tiny body was rising and falling calmly. She smiled at him as she pushed the quilt and sheets back and slipped beneath them.

After a warm shower, Ashlee had decided she'd rather sleep tonight and study tomorrow, especially with the clock reading two in the morning.

She also mused to herself that she was gonna go and buy a new costume. Maybe a sexy leprechaun outfit, or maybe the Cheshire Cat suit she'd spied in the mall's sex store.

Jack might like the change up from her rhinestone rompa and angel suit.

Smiling contentedly at the idea she was actually looking extremely forward to work tomorrow night, she buried herself deeper into the warm comfort of her bed and shut her eyes, slipping into a deep sleep.


End file.

Batman Begins/Dark Knight, Drama, Tragedy