Batman Begins/Dark Knight 1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **When I wrote "Stranger" I almost had Jack accept Sam's offer of a ride but thought better of it. It just didn't seem right for him to do that. But curiosity (and abject mushiness) has overcome me and I wanted to write a "what if" scenario. Yeah this is fluff or whatever kind of words are used to describe it but so what? I'm just in one of "those" kinds of moods. It doesn't feel as wrong writing something like this before he turns into the Joker, so it keeps me from feeling too guilty about the whole OOC thing. This is all pre Joker, so keep that in mind. Just like the "Stranger" story this takes place years before all the drama and violence.

And if the first few paragraphs seem familiar that's because they are from "Stranger". I just change it a little ways in.

**CHAPTER ONE**

One Friday as she was leaving work she saw him walking. It was a cold October day, drizzling rain and he already looked soaked. She slowed behind him, debating on asking him if he needed a ride. On one hand he was walking God only knew how far in this weather, on the other hand she didn't know him very well. No one else was asking him if he needed a ride though and sympathy goaded her on.

She pulled alongside him and rolled the passenger side window down.

"Hey, you need a ride?"

He peered into the car, looking surprised for second. He pushed a hand through his dripping hair, considering the offer.

"Okay." he finally said.

"Well let's go then." She hadn't expected him to agree and she suddenly felt very apprehensive. Another part of her was pleased.

_Nice going Sam, you better hope this guy isn't as weird as he seems or you could be in some trouble._

As they started down the road she asked "Soooo, where to?"

"Do you know where Laurel Street is? There. Unless you don't want to go that far, if you don't you can let me off wherever."

Laurel Street was a thirty minute drive and in a bad part of town but she found herself saying "No, that's fine. I'll take you all the way."

"Ok." he said simply and settled back in the seat.

She fought the urge to glance over at him while she drove but finally gave in as they sat at a red light. He was staring out the window, body tilted away from her. Droplets of rainwater rolled down his neck and she stared at them, enthralled.

A car behind her beeped its horn impatiently and she realized the light was green.

"Shit." she muttered and started going, hoping he hadn't noticed she'd been looking at him. He glanced over at her curiously and gave a short laugh.

"What?" she said, a little more sharply than she meant to.

"Oh nothing. It's just funny, ya know?"

"What's funny?"

"That you're doing the same thing I do all the time."

"Which is?"

"You know...._staring._"

Her eyes widened and she thought to protest but realized there was no point in it. "Well....uh...yeah. I guess I was. Sorry." she said lamely.

"Don't be. Aren't you going to ask about me staring at you?"

"No." This was getting awkward.

A long silence.

"Well that's....disappointing." he finally said and she laughed despite herself, relieved that the tension had been broken.

"Okay, okay. I'll bite." she replied playfully. "Why do you stare at me Jack? Is it because I'm so beautifulllllll? That has to be it right?"

"Actually....nevermind. I'm not gonna tell you." He gave a little half smile and continued to look out the window.

She gaped in amazement. She'd never dreamed he'd have a sense of humor, not from the way he acted at work. "Oh what the hell. Okay fine. I'll just have to live in suspense then won't I?"

He didn't answer but she noticed his smile was still in place.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Finally she pulled onto Laurel Street. Forget this being a bad neighborhood, this was a _terrible_ neighborhood. Hers was bad, his was in the 'risk getting mugged walking out to your car in the morning' league.

"Right here." he said, pointing to a dilapidated Victorian style house. They were common in this area, falling apart and cheap to rent. Years ago neighborhoods like this were inhabited by the well to do. Now the residents were gone but their forlorn homes remained, refuges for addicts, the poor and those wanting anonymity.

She pulled into his driveway. "If you ever need another ride let me know." she said and he looked surprised.

"My car's in the shop. It'll be done in a day or two...I hope."

"Does that mean you need a ride tomorrow? If so just ask."

His eyes darted away from her and she realized he was ashamed.

"Really, it's no problem." she continued. "I always get up too early anyway, it's not like it'll inconvenience me if that's what you're worried about." That was a lie. She _never_ got up too early. But suddenly she was willing to.

"Yeah, okay. If you don't mind." He seemed taken aback by the offer and it made her wonder what kind of treatment he was used to from people.

"What'd I say? It's no biggy. Really."

"Thanks.....ah.... Samantha." he said. The way he said her name gave her chills. She wasn't sure why. It sounded both good and.....wrong.

"I'll be here in the morning." she replied.

She watched him make his way through the patchy yard. He walked slowly, nonchalant to the pouring rain, just like when she'd picked him up. As he reached his porch he turned around and looked at her. Hesitantly she raised her hand to wave at him. He didn't wave back, only turned away and went into the house.

Samantha found herself eagerly awaiting the next morning.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **This is kind of a departure to what I'm used to. It's a "what if" scenario and appeals to my mushier side. However my idea of mushy may be a bit different than other people's. There will be sex (and slightly deviant sex at that, this is Jack/Joker and Sam after all).


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

As promised she was at his house at six twenty five the next morning. Bleary eyed, she guzzled a jumbo thermos of coffee and smoked a cigarette as she waited on him. It was a Friday and she consoled herself with the fact she wouldn't have to do this tomorrow.

Presently he came out, head held low against the rain that continued to pour down.

"Thanks." he said as soon as he got into the car.

"Look at all this damn rain. What would you do without me?" she teased.

"Drown probably." he mumbled.

"You might want to be careful when you come around here." he warned as she backed out of the driveway. "It's not a good place."

"Oh I know. I'm not worried, I carry a gun." she answered lightly.

He had been gazing out the window but now his head snapped around to face her. For a second an odd light came into his eyes and he looked at her speculatively.

"I don't take it into work so don't freak out if you're one of _those_ kind of people. I keep it locked in my car when I go in. But don't tell anyone, don't want them thinking I'm a potential loony toon with a grudge, ya know?"

He continued to stare at her and she squirmed a bit in discomfort. "_What?_ It's a dangerous city. In my opinion every woman in Gotham should know how to use a gun......"

"What kind of gun is it?" he interrupted, a hint of eagerness in his tone.

"Ummm, just a little snub nosed .38. Smith and Wesson."

"Oh." A pause and then. "So you like guns?"

"Sure, I own one don't I? I mean, I'm not one of those people that's obsessed with them but they can be fun. I used to go into the country, near my family's house, and target shoot all the time. It's amazing how relaxing blowing up a few pumpkins and watermelons with a shotgun can be."

Jack said nothing but she could still feel his measuring gaze as she drove.

"Sooo." she said, wondering why his reaction had been so intense at the mention of her owning a firearm. "I take it you like them too?"

"Yeah." he stated. That was it. Just _yeah._ Samantha shook her head in exasperation and decided to not say anything else. Getting any kind of conversation out of him was like pulling teeth and she wasn't up to the task this morning.

"What do you do in your spare time Samantha?"

She glanced over at him, one eyebrow arched. Now _this_ could be interesting.

"Read mostly. A little bit of tv but most of it sucks. When it's nice out I do some gardening. I used to go with my boyfriend to a used bookstore on Woodland Avenue. I got rid of him though, so I don't go there anymore."

_You just had to mention you were single didn't you Sam? How very very lame of you._ She could have kicked herself. She didn't mean to say it but there it was. This guy was weird, there was something downright dangerous about him. But at the same time he was......intriguing. Not to mention quite easy on the eyes.

_'I'm not exactly a helpless little lamb. If he wants to take me up on anything I can handle it and them some.'_ she thought to herself. _'As a matter of fact he'd probably be wondering what he got himself into.'_ Unconsciously a wicked grin spread across her face and of course he noticed it.

"What's so funny?"

"Hm? Oh nothing......so what do you do Jack? In your spare time."

For a few seconds he was silent. "I read a lot too. Biographies, nonfiction, that sort of thing. Some fiction is okay though, like 1984."

"Yeah? I _loved_ that book. One of my all time favorites! What else?"

"Well...'On the Genealogy of Morality' is ah...incredible. And of course 'Thus Spoke Zarathustra'...."

"That's Nietzsche, right?" She wasn't a bit surprised he liked him. She'd never been interested in him, thinking him unbearably pretentious but she didn't tell Jack that.

"Yes."

"Have you read ''The Songs of Maldoror'? By that French guy?"

"No I haven't."

"Try it sometime. The way it's written is yummy. de Sade can't hold a candle to him. de Sade was all shock value, just a spoiled little shit trying to get a rise out of the Church and civilized people in general. _This_ guy however, you just know he believes and means everything he writes. It's....sex and blasphemy and cruelty and perversion like you wouldn't believe."

Jack uttered a strange laugh. "You sound like you enjoy that sort of thing."

They were pulling into the factory's parking lot, they'd soon be going their separate ways in the building. Samantha decided to give him something to think about for the rest of the day.

"Oh I _do_." She said as they got out of her car. "_Which_ of those things I enjoy is for you to wonder about."

With that she walked into the factory, leaving him standing there with a puzzled look on his face.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She saw him during lunch break but kept her distance from him, wondering if he would approach her. He never did, instead sat in the gazebo outside and smoked a cigarette, occasionally casting a furtive look her way. She waved but kept her place by the building, using the overhang to keep dry from the unrelenting rain.

After work she drove to the bank where they both cashed their paychecks. Jack tried to give her $20 for driving him around and she refused.

"Like I said. It's not a problem." she told him as she drove him home. "It's not like I'd be doing anything else."

"My car should be fixed this weekend." he said and she felt a twinge of disappointment.

"If it isn't, let me know."

"I don't have your phone number."

"Oh, right. Open up the glove compartment, get a pen and paper from there and I'll give it to you. It's my cell, I don't have a land line."

She gave it to him and watched him put it in his pants pocket. Part of her wondered if she were making a big mistake. She'd just come out of a long relationship and she wanted her carefree life back with no men to complicate things and make her miserable. On the other hand she'd never met a guy like this. For being so young he was inordinately serious and highly intelligent. Not to mention gorgeous.

And again she watched him trudge back into the dingy gray house. Just like the day before he glanced over his shoulder at her. Again she waved and this time he waved back, a small smile on his face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **So they've begun to find a common ground over firearms and nihilistic literature. How sweet, lol.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thanks to those of you who reviewed!

**CHAPTER THREE**

_Saturday night_

She was on her computer when her cell phone rang. Annoyed, she glared at it and then at the clock. It was a little after 9.

_Fucking Randy I bet, trying to get me to take him back. I really need to get my number changed._

She thought about letting it ring but picked it up and checked the number. It wasn't Randy's. She rarely got any calls so she answered it out of curiosity.

"Hello?"

"Umm, Samantha?" The voice on the other end was low and hesitant. For a second she didn't recognize it.

"Yes? Who's this?"

"It's Jack. From work."

Her heart skipped a beat, much to her dismay. _Great, now I've reverted back to being a kid. And it actually doesn't feel half bad._

"Oh hi Jack. I didn't recognize your voice." She made sure her voice stayed cool and calm. "What's up?"

"I ah....just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm doing fine. You?"

"Look, I called you to let you know I got my car back today."

"Oh that's great." _But not really._

"Umm..so..I was wondering if I could come by your house."

_What the hell?_

Momentarily speechless, she finally managed to say "Tonight?"

"If it's okay?"

She thought for a few seconds. This was probably a bad idea, a very bad idea. And yet.....

"Sure." she said.

"Okay. I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

"Wait. Don't you need my address?

"Oh yeah."

Amused, she gave it to him. He said goodbye and she sat down to wait for him. This was crazy. As aloof as he was, why would he call her out of the blue wanting to come by her house? It was strange and random but she didn't think he meant any harm to her. After all, he knew she had a gun. No, she figured he was just lonely and wanted some company. He didn't seem to have any friends. Well if he wanted a friend she'd be one. Despite his strangeness she was growing fond of him. There was something about him she could relate to, an intangible sadness she knew well. She was still nervous though and got into her stash of hydrocodone to calm herself.

It didn't take long for the doorbell to ring. Taking a few deep breaths she approached the door and looked through the peephole. There he was, looking around uneasily, seeming for all the world like he was about to turn around and run. She smiled to herself and opened the door.

He was carrying some books in his arms and held them out to her sheepishly. "Since you like to read I thought I'd bring you these. Hopefully there's some you haven't read yet."

"Thanks!" she said, taking the books. "Come in."

She led him down the hall into the living room. He was wearing an olive green army jacket, black shirt and jeans, all soaking wet. It looked as if he'd stood out in the rain for a while. For the first time she noticed how tall he was and berated herself for staring. He didn't seem to notice though. He was looking around her apartment appreciatively.

"Nice place. Much nicer than mine."

"Thank you. You can take that wet coat off if you want." she said, placing the books on her coffee table. "You look cold."

Nodding gratefully he took it off and hung it on the coat rack. "I hope I didn't weird you out too badly by calling like that." he said apologetically.

"No, not at all. It was unexpected, but not in a bad way. Have a seat."

He sat down on her sofa and she did the same, staying to the other side. She noticed he seemed more at ease than when she saw him at work.

"I...I just wanted to thank you. For being so nice to me. If it hadn't been for you I would've been walking in the rain."

She grinned at him. "Hey, no problem. When I saw you walking that day and none of those assholes from work were offering you a ride.....well I just didn't like that. You seem like a nice enough person."

He glanced at her curiously, dark eyes unreadable. "Glad you think so Samantha."

"You can call me Sam if you want." she told him, trying not to think of how good her name sounded coming out of his mouth.

"Okay."

"So, would you like something to drink? I think I've got some Coke....and I have water and coffee. That's about it I'm afraid."

"No thank you, I'm fine."

They sat there in silence and she noticed he was starting to fidget. His hands were clenching and unclenching and he had a mortified look on his face as if he were having an inner dialogue with himself and it wasn't going well.

_Jesus Sam, say something. Put the poor guy out of his misery._

She thought about saying something about the weather, or work, or the books. Instead she said: "I'm glad you came by. And I really really mean that. So don't be nervous, okay? Whatever other people think about you.....I don't share their opinion."

Jack looked at her, obviously stunned. He was at a loss for words but she could see the gratitude in his eyes. Again she wondered what kind of treatment he was used to from people and a flash of anger shot through her. Not at him, at others. The cruel ones, the ones whose greatest joy was to break others down, to make them feel worthless.

"Do you want to know why I always look at you?" he said abruptly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do want to know."

He moved closer to her, seemingly unaware he was doing so. "Its not just because I find you beautiful...and you _are_ beautiful Sam. But beauty is common, isn't it? No, you move like you own everything you see....yet you don't want it. Like you're above it all and nothing touches you." His voice had turned low, no longer hesitant, and his eyes were focused on her with an uncanny intensity. "You're comfortable just being who you are and no one else matters. If I could explain it better I would...but I can't. All I can say is.....I've never seen anyone like you before."

It was Samantha's turn to be amazed and she gaped at him. The change that had come over him while he spoke was overwhelming and exciting. The danger she'd glimpsed in him was out in full force, the adorable boyishness gone, replaced by something raw and almost animalistic.

"Thanks." she said when she finally found her voice. It sounded stupid to her but she really didn't know what else to say. Oh, there were a few things she could say but the wisdom of them was questionable.

"There's more." he continued. "But I think maybe I've...ah..already said too much. Anything else and I might scare you away." He gave a wry chuckle. "Normally I wouldn't mind scaring people away.....but not you."

"I don't scare easily." she answered quietly, wanting him to tell her more. She'd had men say many things to her, most of it carefully constructed bullshit to try to break down her defenses. But she knew Jack meant every word he was saying. Knowing that was both frightening and exhilarating.

"I noticed." he murmured, eyes still locked on hers. "But what _does_ scare you?"

_This. The fact that someone I hardly know is sitting here next to me, saying these things and I'm believing every word of it. The fact that if he moves any closer to me I'm liable to lose all control and jump him._

"Oh you know." she said casually. "The usual. Marriage, kids, safety, living in the suburbs. Knowing each day will be the same old thing."

Jack grinned slyly. "Hmmm, a woman after my own heart. So, what _do_ you want? Out of life?"

She mulled that one over for a while. "I don't really think about the future or my life. See, I try to stick to the _now_. If I can have a roof over my head, food and some freedom I'm good. I look at everything like this: _In a hundred years none of this will matter_. Not you, not me, not our jobs, not the little dramas that we think are so important. It'll all be forgotten. That bothers some people, they _hate_ to think they might be so inconsequential. But you know what? I live by it. It's liberating and it puts everything in perspective."

The smile had faded from his face and he stared at her intently. "Do you ever want to just.....run away, just leave everything, and remake yourself into a completely different person?"

"Funny you should say that. When I was with my ex every morning on my way to work I'd think about just leaving. He hardly worked so he'd still be asleep in bed and there I was going to work so early the sun hadn't even come up. But anyway, I'd think about driving past the factory and never stopping. I'd look out the car window into the darkness and sometimes the moon would still be out and it was so fucking beautiful it made my heart ache. I'd just get this need to go, to say screw it all. Instead I kicked him out."

Jack laughed and gave a little nod of approval. She studied him closely, trying to get an idea of what was going through his head. He still seemed on the verge of saying more but wasn't quite sure of how to go about it.

"Hey." she said. "I don't know about you but I'm starving. I'm gonna order a pizza and you're welcome to eat as much as you want. Have you had dinner yet?"

"Actually no I haven't but it's okay I...."

"Great, you must be hungry then! So you can help me eat it. I hope you like mushrooms and thin crust." She got up and went to the phone.

Jack started to protest, then to her satisfaction changed his mind.

"Sounds good." he said.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I'd planned on getting a lot more done over the holiday weekend. And I didn't. I blame food and laziness, sorry. LOL.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Samantha watched with some astonishment as Jack devoured the pizza. He acted as if he hadn't eaten in a while. She ate three slices and left the rest for him. While he ate she amused herself by watching a bad monster movie on Sci-Fi channel.

"And you said you weren't hungry." she remarked. "Five pieces of pizza and two cans of Coke.....geez, how long has it been since you've eaten?"

He shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Sorry. I started eating and couldn't stop."

"Don't be." She didn't consider herself a caretaker type personality but felt a certain amount of happiness seeing him satisfied.

"I'll give you money for it." he offered.

"No. You're a guest. Making a guest pay for food is rude."

_Besides, you look poorer than me_, she thought. His clothes, though clean, were well worn, the knees of his jeans threadbare, his t-shirt riddled with holes. She realized she could see bits of his bare skin through the holes and made herself stop looking. Then her eyes went over his arms, to his biceps....

_For God's sake Samantha, STOP IT._ _You're worse than a man._

She raised her eyes to his, hoping he hadn't noticed her scrutiny. No such luck, he was looking right at her with a bemused expression. She felt her face turn hot and jumped up, taking the empty pizza box and soda cans into the kitchen. When she got back he was watching tv.

"I don't want to overstay my welcome." he said, still looking at the tv. "And it's late. I should....."

"No, it's okay. Stay....if you want that is." She felt ashamed at those words but bit the emotion back. She wanted him to stay, even if something might happen that she wasn't ready for.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes." she answered, settling back onto the sofa, still careful to not get too close.

"Why Sam?" he turned to regard her, brow furrowed, confusion etched into his features.

"Umm well. I like your company and......"

"No, not that. Well yes that too but why did you talk to me? Ask me if I needed a ride? Why did you let me come here?"

She took a deep breath. "To be honest the first thing I noticed about you was your looks. I won't try to hide it. But after we spoke in the break room I thought you were different. Interesting. And the way everyone started acting around you....."

"Yes...like I'm a _freak_." he laughed, oddly pleased by the idea.

"Maybe so, but I honestly don't see why. Most of those people are bitter and not too bright. They see someone like you and they don't know what to think."

"Do you think that's really it?" He leaned comfortably back into the sofa.

"Yeah. I do."

"And as for my looks..." he said distastefully. "Those are incidental.....my looks aren't _me_."

"I say the same thing all the time." she teased. "Oh the horrors of being just too pretty. So torturous!"

For a second she wondered if he might think she were making fun of him but then he laughed and she realized he got the joke.

"_You_." he said, shaking a finger at her. "are a smartass. And I like it."

"Ok, then that means you can hang out with me for a while longer and bask in my...uh...smartassedness. Hm, is that even a word?"

"Don't think so."

She settled back, glad he was staying, and they watched television in companiable silence. Samantha dozed off for a while, leaning awkwardly into the arm of the sofa. Eventually her arm fell asleep, waking her up. She looked over to see Jack looking at her.

"Sorry" she said, shaking her arm to get the feeling back.

"Don't be. I was enjoying watching you." She found an odd thrill go through her at his words. From anyone else it would have been creepy....from him it sounded sweet. Unsure of how to respond she smiled and wiggled her fingers, hoping the pins and needles sensation in her arm would go away soon.

"You can,ah, move closer if you want Sam. I would say that I don't bite but that's a cliche' isn't it? And sometimes I _do_ bite." His voice was laced with humor but his eyes were serious.

"Biting I can handle." she whispered. "Biting can be good."

"Mmm-hmm." he muttered, shifting nervously.

On impulse she moved up, putting her legs on the couch and leaning into him, her head against his shoulder. His body stiffened immediately and she began to wonder if she'd went too far but then he moved his arm up, placing it over her shoulders. With her head close to his chest she could hear his heart beating rapidly and she shut her eyes, wishing she hadn't done this. But he was warm and it felt too good. _Too late now. I'm not moving._

She could feel his eyes on her but refused to look at him, afraid to. Unconsciously, her arms snaked around him and she felt him tense up again.

"Sam..." he started to say in a low voice but she only shook her head.

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay, really." she whispered, mouth pressed against his shoulder, eyes shut tight.

He relaxed and she felt his arm tighten around her. Samantha smiled to herself and after a while she fell asleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning she awoke to find they were both entangled on the couch, clutching each other tightly. Jack was fast asleep and dangerously close to falling in the floor.

For a minute her mind raced wildly. _What happened last night?_

Then she remembered. Nothing had happened. Relief and disappointment washed over her.

Jack stirred, awakened by her movements.

"I thought you'd never get up." he remarked, sounding very much awake.

She sat up, stretching the stiffness out of her arms and neck. "What are you talking about? You looked dead to the world."

"I just pretended to be asleep....been awake for a while. I don't sleep much."

"Why didn't you wake me up and tell me to move then? God, how long have you been laying there with me on top of you?"

He fixed her with a mischievious look. "Why would I want you to move? Maybe I liked it."

She stared at him in amusement and he looked away, embarrassed.

"My....I had no idea you were such a bad boy Jack."

He had no response, she saw a flush come over his face.

"I'm going to take a shower. Do you mind making some coffee? Don't know about you but I could use some caffeine." She got up stiffly, made her way to her bedroom, got clean clothes and went to the bathroom.

As she showered she thought about how bizarre the whole thing was. Normally she would never do this with a strange man in her home and she'd definitely never fall asleep with him on her couch. But this was different. Her gut told her he wouldn't hurt her even as it told her he just wasn't right. It was confusing, she wanted him but was reluctant to do anything about it. And to make things even more complicated he seemed the same way. He was holding back, with her. As if he were hiding something about himself.

_So now here we are circling each other but too chickenshit to follow through with anything._

But she didn't mind. There was an odd comfort in being around him and he was surely nice to look at and talk to. If the only thing that came from this was an odd friendship then she was fine with that.

When she came out of the bathroom she'd found he had made coffee for her and was standing in the hallway with his jacket on.

"I need to go." he said apologetically. "There's a few things I have to do."

"That's cool. Thanks for coming by. I had fun." She smiled, trying to diffuse his obvious discomfort.

He nodded, avoiding eye contact with her. "Me too."

And with that he left. Samantha watched him back out of her driveway and shook her head. Yes, he was definitely hiding something. Good sense told her to leave it alone.

But sometimes good sense was just no fun at all.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **Don't worry, this won't get too awfully sappy. Ok well obviously there's some fluff and feeeelllliinnggs and all but when it comes down to it Jack is still the Joker and Sam is....well...she is still Sam. hahaha.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Sex!

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Samantha spent the rest of the day poring over the books Jack had left her. The stack contained Kafka, Orwell, Dostoevsky, Sinclair and some authors she'd never heard of. Stuck at the very bottom of the stack was "The Anarchist's Cookbook". She puzzled over it for a moment and then laughed. Funny one, that Jack.

She read a little bit of "The Jungle" then ate and watched the news. Nothing new. Flood watches out due to the unending rain, a bank robbery, an agriculture supply warehouse had had ammonium nitrate fertilizer stolen. This inevitably led to an interview with Commissioner Loeb regarding the threat of domestic terrorism in Gotham. Samantha stopped paying attention and went back to reading.

The ring of the doorbell interrupted her and she glanced at the time. A little after six. Kind of late on a Sunday evening for anyone to be visiting. And anyway, she never got visitors. It had to be Randy, come to harass her, or.....

She leaped off the couch, down the hallway, and looked through the peephole.

It was Jack.

A jolt went through her at the sight of him but she opened the door calmly.

"Oh hi." she said casually. "Didn't expect you back tonight."

He didn't respond, instead moved forward until he was inside the house. Samantha backed up, letting him past, and shut the door behind him. She cocked her head at him quizzically as he approached her. He wasn't saying anything. Then she caught a glimpse of the slow burn in his eyes, the intent way he stared at her. And she knew what he wanted.

He moved closer to her, until her back was against the wall and his body was almost touching hers.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked, wanting him to say it.

Jack still didn't answer but she heard him exhale sharply and before she could react his mouth was on hers. That was all it took, her hands pulled him as close to her body as possible.

"You know." he snarled against her lips and the change in his voice made her shiver in desire.

"Say it. Just say it." This was what she liked, the admission, to know he wanted exactly what she wanted.

His hands went over the front of her body, over her chest and then lower. She ground against him, biting his lip lightly. That seemed to break him down.

"I...I want you." he whispered, breathing hard.

The excitement that welled up inside her at those words surprised her and it was all she could do not to finish things right there in the hallway.

"Let's go into the bedroom." she said breathlessly.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I hope I didn't, ah, freak you out by asking you to do that." He looked over at her, worry in his dark eyes.

_'Sink your teeth into me. Hard.'_ he'd said when he was on the verge and she'd been happy to oblige. When she'd complied it had sent him over the edge. He seemed embarrassed by it now but Samantha liked it just fine. So he enjoyed a little bit of pain. Nothing wrong with that.

"No, not at all. Honestly? It was a turn on." She stretched out and surveyed her wrecked bed. The fitted sheet was off the corners, top sheet half on the floor, blanket _on_ the floor. Amused, she retrieved the blanket and put it back on the bed. What they had done had been beyond anything she'd ever experienced before. He was inexperienced but had more than made up for it in enthusiasm and imagination.

Jack appeared both grateful and intrigued by her words. He pulled her closer to him and they lay together, naked and silent. Gently she traced her fingers over the tooth marks on his shoulder. He let out an odd little sigh at her touch and shut his eyes.

"What do you say we call in sick tomorrow?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, one eyebrow arched curiously. "For what?"

"For fun of course." she grinned wickedly. "We can eat pizza, read, laze around, watch tv and screw. You know you want to."

His normally guarded eyes softened and he seemed pleased. "That actually sounds good."

"You bet it does! I'm gonna go ahead and leave a message on their answering machine. Then you can call." She got up and retrieved her phone from the living room. Coming back into the bedroom she noticed how intently Jack studied her and realized she was still naked.

"You're gorgeous you know." There was a hint of darkness in his voice. "You're gorgeous and you...you don't even know it. You don't even care, do you?"

She shrugged, both flattered and somewhat uncomfortable.

"Come here." he said, now visibly excited. She strode over to him and straddled his waist. She loved the way his body tensed underneath her, the way his breathing accelerated as soon as their bodies touched.

"I have a question." he whispered, stroking her stomach and sides.

"What's that?" His hands sent tingles of electricity through her body and it was hard to concentrate.

"Have you ever, ah, tied someone up?" he asked nervously.

_He thinks I'm going to condemn him for asking for such things_, she thought. Little did he know.

"_Now_ we're talking." she murmured happily, taking one of his hands in hers and placing it onto her breast.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They alternated between sex and talking well into the night. He asked about her family and she told him about her father, whom she rarely spoke to anyone about.

"He was a low level drug dealer and casual user. Probably still dealing if he's alive. Strictly small time. Pot, coke, heroin....he'd sell anything. One of my earliest memories is of waking up in the middle of the night and going into the living room only to see my mom, my dad and some guy all shooting up." She laughed, remembering the horrified expressions on the adult's faces at her appearance. "And I know it sounds bad but it really _wasn't_. I'm not gonna make it out to be this big tragic thing because if I did I'd be lying. My parents never hurt me, never did anything bad to me. If anything they spoiled me and let me do whatever I wanted."

Jack nodded, his hand making lazy circles over her thigh.

"But yeah, he had minor, very minor, mob ties. About six years ago he and my mom split up and he disappeared. Haven't heard from him since." Samantha didn't tell him that the manager of the factory, Mr. Patterson, used to be tight with her dad and that's how she'd gotten her job there. No point in telling him the truth about the factory being a smokescreen for mob activities either. One of the few useful things she'd ever learned from her father was to keep your mouth perma-shut when it came to the mob. Keep your mouth shut and don't make them mad and you were usually okay. Usually.

She didn't ask Jack about his family. Something told her not to and she figured if he wanted to talk about them he would volunteer the information. He seemed content asking her questions and listening to her talk. She was happy to oblige, he was so relaxed, a rarity for him, and she was willing to talk all night to see him at ease.

"You really enjoyed that didn't you?" he motioned to the rope lying discarded on the bed.

"Yes. Yes I did. I came what, three times? I'd say I enjoyed it quite a bit." She threw a leg over his and moved closer to him. Not many men were game for being tied up but he had embraced it eagerly. At one point he'd gotten loose and came after her, pinning her to the bed and falling over her voraciously. The turning of the tables had turned her on more than she'd thought possible. "You didn't seem to mind either."

He grinned. "I couldn't quite keep up with you though. Only once for me."

"Well that's one of the perks of being female. And I can make your score a bit higher if you really really want."

For a long while he stared at her, a little smile on his face. "How high?"

"As high as you like." she whispered and kissed him, reveling in the sensation of his tongue darting into her mouth and of his hands gripping the small of her back.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **There's a little bit of sex in this one and a rather strange Jackie Collins comment, LOL. And I just realized "Hey You" by Pink Floyd reminds me of this story for some odd reason. I love Pink Floyd so that's a good thing I guess.

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Why did you come to work at the factory? You're too smart for that place."

She was sitting up in bed smoking a cigarette, he was reading one of the books he'd brought her.

"I needed a job." he shrugged. "Smart has nothing to do with eating."

"True true. I'm just surprised you're not in college is all."

He gave a bitter little laugh at that. "College? No. It's not for me." He looked up from the book, his dark eyes keenly searching her face. "I could ask the same about you. Girls that read Sartre for fun don't generally um...work as secretaries."

"You'd be surprised. Anyway I occasionally get myself off to Jackie Collins books so that sort of evens things out." She snorted at the shocked look on his face. "And I never thought college was for me either. I moved out of my parent's house the second I turned eighteen and had to get a full time job, no time for anything else."

Samantha stubbed her cigarette out in the bedside ashtray and brought her hand down to stroke his forearm. After everything they'd done together he still tensed up a little at her touch. She figured he was so alienated from people that he wasn't comfortable with contact, even from a lover. If he initiated the contact he wasn't uneasy, if she initiated it it seemed to throw him for a loop. He obviously enjoyed it, yet seemed to also fear it. This only endeared him to her more yet made her increasingly curious about his past.

Curled against him, dozing as he read with one arm draped over her possessively she felt a sense of contentment, an emotion she was not overly familar with.

She was on the verge of sleep when out of the blue she heard him whisper something. The words seemed meant more for himself than for her but she asked anyway.

"What was that?"

Making a point not to look at her he repeated them. "I'm glad I came back."

"So am I." she answered softly.

It was a long time before she could go back to sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of that night and the following day was a blissful haze. Too much too fast and she liked it, craved more. The intensity she'd sought her entire life had been discovered with him. She decided to put aside her misgivings about being in any sort of relationship and just roll with it. No point in ruining a fun time with pointless worrying.

At Jack's urging they went to the bookstore on Woodland and wandered among the rickety shelves, looking for nothing in particular. He tagged along behind her, never letting her out of his sight. When he didn't think she was watching his eyes darted suspiciously around the store, as if he expected something bad to happen. She wondered if he had a fear of public places.

"Hey." she said, putting the book she'd been poring over back on the shelf. "Whenever you're ready to leave just say the word."

His gaze settled on her and the tension seemed to leave him. It hit her then that he trusted her, at least to some extent. He didn't see her like he did the others and that pleased her. Samantha had always had a thing for people, particularly men, who were isolated, who had trouble connecting with others. Most of her boyfriends had problems with their families and were a bit strange by other's standards. None of them had ever turned out too bad. She'd never tried to change them or analyze them, she liked them the way they were.

It had always been a pet peeve of hers when her friends would meet someone and then proceed to "fix" them or attempt to force them to conform to what they deemed normal. It had been done to her too. Randy had often told her there was something wrong with her because she didn't want to get married or have kids. This coming from a man who couldn't hold a job for more than six months at a time and couldn't function without massive amounts of THC in his system. What was the point of changing something when that's what attracted you in the first place? She could never figure that one out.

"Want to get something to eat?" Jack asked, a charming half smile widening on his face. He clearly wanted out of the bookstore but didn't want to admit it.

"Let's go!" she said, slipping her hand into his.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They found a little Chinese restaurant that had an all you can eat crab leg buffet. Samantha watched in great amusement as Jack piled two plates full of nothing but crab legs. She opted for one plate of legs and a bowl of fried rice.

"So what about your mother?" Jack asked her as they ate. "You haven't said much about her."

"Well she lives on the outskirts of Gotham. It's in the country, real pretty out there. She used to be a nurse but doesn't work now....her health isn't so great. Heart problems and all. I check on her a few times a week, do work around the house for her. After dad left she never remarried and rarely dated so I'm all she's got now."

"No brothers or sisters?"

"Nope. You?"

"No."

"What about your family?" she asked. Since he was asking about hers she thought it was only fair to inquire about his.

"I don't speak to my parents anymore." he answered shortly.

"Well what did they do for a living?"

He twirled a fork around in his hand, an anxious gesture he seemed unaware of. "My, ah, my _fath-er_ was an accountant. My mother didn't work. She was a homemaker I guess you could say."

His voice had taken on a strange timbre when speaking of his parents, particularly his dad. He uttered the word 'father' in a contemptous snarl, which she found especially telling. She felt guilty for asking him about them and changed the subject.

"So what would you like to do after this?" she asked slyly.

He relaxed instantly and that little smile of his came back. "We could go back home...to your house.....and, um, watch a movie."

"That sounds good. We can watch from the bed. More comfortable that way ya know." She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Maybe after we're done with the movie you can try the rope out on _me_."

His face reddened just a little but the expression on his face was keen with hunger.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I....I don't know about this." he panted. Samantha was blindfolded so she couldn't see his face but he sounded very very excited.

"It's okay." she reassured him. "Just go with it. Nothing to be nervous about, okay?"

"No. You, uh, don't understand. I don't want to get out of hand with you."

His words made her wonder but the feeling of his bare skin against hers and the ropes on her wrists and ankles was intoxicating. She could feel his arousal pressing against her hip and bit her lip against a frustrated sigh.

"Alright. If you're uncomfortable with this you can untie me."

His hands wandered shakily up and down her nude body. "That's the thing. I don't want to. You look so....beautiful like this. _Too_ beautiful. But I don't want to get carried away. I've never done it like _this_ before. It's...it's very, ah, tempting to get too rough."

"Ok well.....take my blindfold off first. That might help a little." If he was new to tying a woman up she thought it might be easier on him if he could see her face so he'd know he wasn't hurting or scaring her. It would also humanize her more. It was easy to depersonalize someone with their face hidden, even if you knew that person.

The blindfold slid off and she started at the sight of him. His pupils were dilated, like a cat about to spring on a bird, and for all the excitement his voice and body indicated his face was eerily calm.

"Better?" she asked after a moment.

"Mmmm-hmm." he muttered, eyes glazed, and fell over her, hands and mouth doing their work. He was rough but not overly so and Samantha could tell he was reigning himself in. For someone who enjoyed a bit of pain he definitely had a dominant streak in him. And she had to admit she liked it. When he deftly flipped her face-down on the bed and growled instructions in her ear it was hard to believe this was the same shy and awkward young man she was used to.

Yes, she liked it quite a bit.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **I thought I should say that this won't be one of those "If Jack had more hugs and love wouldn't have become the Joker. He's just misunderstood!" In my view Jack was born to become the Joker and no matter what course his life takes that is who he will ultimately become.

I'm going to start doing the personal replies to reviews after each chapter. I really appreciate the reviews and it's good to know someone out there likes my story. Also thanks to the ones who don't review and the people who add me to their Alerts, etc. You're all incredible.

**Individual Thanks:**

**RubyWaters** - Yes, you hit it right on the nail, it was more than just about sex. I was attempting to get a little bit of character development going and show how alike and yet vastly different they are. Jack is of course supposed to be a bit mysterious but I figured I could add more about Sam and what makes her tick.

**LuckyGirl17** - I try to update fast. It depends on how slow it's been at my job (I write if there's not much going on) and what I've got going on at home. Sometimes I'll update every day, other times it might take a week. And I'm very glad you like it!

**Seditionary** - Thanks! Always happy to know someone is enjoying the stuff I write.

**PenAndInkpad **- I've always thought of him as a nihilist too, from the very first time I saw TDK. I'm glad you like Samantha. Original characters can be tricky to pull off and I worry about her a lot. I tried to make her both normal and abnormal without being completely outlandish, if that makes any sense, haha. Thanks for the great review.

**Devryn **- LOL, thank you! I'm having a lot of fun writing it. Glad you like the character development. I'm trying to get more into that.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **I got The Dark Knight Special Edition 2 Disc DVD yesterday. Hurray for Amazon preorders! It never fails to amaze me how beautiful I find the Joker. Everything about him is designed to be repulsive but he still manages to be this darkly elegant, insanely addictive creature. How I love and miss Heath.

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

It had been two weeks since she'd given Jack a ride home. At work they kept their distance, casually talking during lunch but not giving anyone a reason to start gossiping. Samantha didn't know why it mattered to her what the other workers thought, but she mostly didn't want the questions and comments. They'd question Jack too and she knew the scrutiny would drive him nuts.

He came to her house each evening, sometimes leaving late, sometimes staying all night. The shyness, the hesitance never quite left him and she couldn't say that she minded. It added a certain amount of intrigue that she enjoyed. There was something about him......lurking behind those dark eyes.

_He was hiding something from her. From everyone. What she saw wasn't what he really was. He was wearing a mask and what was hidden beneath she couldn't guess._

The glimmer of trust she'd seen in the bookstore seemed to be at a standstill but she didn't push him. She figured he'd had that his whole life. Pushing. Digging. Questions. Samantha wondered about his relationships with other women and how _they_ had dealt with him. Had they thrown up their hands and given up? Become frightened? Tried to change him? And what about his parents? Particularly his father. Jack's home life had obviously been less than stellar. But she kept her questions unspoken. She liked him too much to run him off and she knew interrogating him would do just that.

He preferred her to be the dominant one in bed, although he surely seemed to like it when she was at his mercy. But tied up, eyes covered, her nails sinking into his flesh, her voice taunting him....that was when he seemed to truly relax. Occasionally when she had him tethered to the bed he'd begin to make an odd noise that was a cross between a hum and a moan. It was a purely unconscious thing, creepy and charming at the same time.

She'd become a little worried at being helpless before him anyway. Not that he'd ever done anything. Not yet. But that was the thing.....as exciting as it was she had a feeling he was not be trusted, that his excitement could grow until he couldn't be contained or reasoned with.

And then one night she used flex cuffs on him. He was particularly unruly, making it difficult for her to control him. He did that more and more lately, made her fight to dominate him. She enjoyed this little game, straddling him, pinning him down, feeling him pressing into her. It made it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand but she wasn't about to complain.

"Be still." she ordered, her voice calm and cool. "Don't make me hit you." She'd actually never hit him and figured he'd settle down right then.

Instead he said: "Hit me. Do it."

Samantha paused, looking down at his blindfolded face in shock.

_I don't want to do that to him._

"Please Samantha. Hit me. Hit me, ah, hard. I _want_ it." His body was tense, every muscle taut with anticipation. She could feel him grow against her and the feeling was dizzying. Jack knew her too well, knew that when she got worked up enough she'd do many many things she'd normally not consider.

_He knows exactly what he's doing to me. Gonna turn me on enough where I'll lose my head and I'll do it. God help me I'll do it. And who has control here anyway? Because it damn sure doesn't seem like it's me.  
_

"I'll do anything you want....any-thing." He proceeded to rather explicitly list off a few things he knew she liked, tongue darting over his lips as he said them, his speech pattern going into a guttural sing-song.

And then without thinking, half because she wanted him to stop asking but mostly because she wanted to see how worked up he would get, she hit him. It was just a slap, just enough to make a satisfying _thwap!_ but not enough to do any real damage.

The response was frightening and erotic and made her wish she'd done it sooner. His breathing quickened, his arms strained at the flex cuffs until she was afraid he'd break them. He grew even harder, which she didn't think possible. At that moment she wished she could see his eyes and ripped the blindfold off. They were gleaming and feral, like nothing she'd ever seen. His pupils had widened to the point where the normal brown was obscured, leaving only inky black pits. And his face...it was contorted into a snarl. As he growled out his next request his teeth gleamed like a wild animal's.

"Do it again. _Again._ Hit me. Hurt me. Light a cigarette and put it out on....."

Now _that_ she couldn't take. She wasn't about to truly hurt him, no matter how much he might want it.

Instead she slapped him harder, across the mouth, hoping he didn't see her wince as she did so.

"Shut up Jack. _I'm_ the one in control and I say what goes. And I say that I fuck you." With that she lowered herself onto him.

It was incredible. He fought against his restraints to move into her faster and she loved it. The whole time his eyes were locked onto hers, both adoring and challenging. The worship she saw was the hardest part to deal with, it made her vaguely uncomfortable for reasons she couldn't put a finger on. Holding his gaze was hard, it made her chest tighten with trepidation, but she persisted. She stared him down, wondering what he was seeing as he looked at her.

She liked Jack, liked him to the point it worried her, but sometimes he frightened her.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One Saturday evening he called her up.

"Sam I have some things to do tonight. I might be over later. If not I'll be by tomorrow."

"Okay." she said. She was eating a bowl of fried rice and absently watching a bird hop around on her porch. It was a bit of a relief, she felt a cold coming on and wasn't feeling well at all. Sleeping all weekend sounded like heaven.

"I'm sorry. But I have to do it."

"It's no big deal. I'm feeling kinda under the weather anyways. I'll see you when you come by."

"All right." he paused, as if he wanted to say more. "Goodbye then."

"Bye."

It was the last time she would speak with Jack.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **Okay, bad things start happening next chapter, as I guess you can tell. And I realize I've put a lot of semi-kinky sex in this story but it isn't sex just for sex's sake. I use it to show the true Jack, the person behind the facade. In his excitement he lets his guard down and you can see the burgeoning Joker. Manipulative, love of pain, etc. He's not quite there yet but he's still young, only about 21 right now. Give him a little push and a few years and he'll be there.

Individual thanks for my reviewers of the last chapter: I don't get many reviews but I don't care. To be honest if ony one person read this story (or any of them) I'd still slap them up. Writing has become a compulsion for me. Anyway I'd rather have quality than quantity! And you're all definitely quality. I'm honored to have such intelligent people (and awesome writers) reading my stuff.

**Devryn **- The role reversal thing was fun. And I thought it would be interesting to let Jack trust her a small amount. At this point he _wants_ to trust someone, even though he'd never admit it.

**PenAndInkpad** - Yeah I wanted to show a bit of what Jack really is. He's not there yet but he will be soon enough. He's on the verge.....it won't take much and he'll shed his skin like a snake.

**RubyWaters** - LOL, I've never read Nora Roberts! I mentioned Jackie Collins because when I was young I'd sneak my Grandma's JC books and read the "good parts". As to where I'm leading them...well I have it mapped out to a certain point. After that I don't know what I'll do with them. Right now I think they're kind of sweet in a twisted sort of way...but things are about to change. I'll try not to abuse them too much, hahaha.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Fast update, haha. And here is where the rough stuff begins.

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

As she drove into work Monday morning she didn't see Jack's car. The last time they'd spoke was Saturday night, she hadn't heard from him on Sunday but she'd been so sick she hadn't thought much of it. Still, she wasn't particularly worried. If anything had come up he'd call her. Besides, it wasn't her place to keep tabs on him, if he wanted to miss a day that was fine by her.

She had a seat at her desk and booted up her computer. As she waited the door to Mr. Patterson's office creaked open. The sound startled her, he usually wasn't in this early.

* * *

Even though he had mob affiliations she couldn't help but like Mr. Patterson. He'd been friends with her dad, had known her since she was a toddler. When she'd been laid off from her last job she'd been desperate. The work she could find just wasn't enough to pay the bills and the idea of moving in with her mother at age twenty five was less than appealing. She knew he ran a factory, knew that it was a place for the mob to store highly illegal things, knew that working there was a risk.

But morality and pickiness were no longer an issue. Her rent was overdue, the power a week away from being shut off. And so she had come to him and he had hired her on the spot, delighted to see her after all these years. Not only did he hire her but he paid her early so she could take care of her bills.

"The least I can do for Ben's little girl." he'd said delightedly. Don Patterson was like your uncle...if your uncle wore Armani, drove a brand new Mercedes and carried a 9mm at all times. To look at him you'd never realize what he was. He was tall and rotund with glasses, ruddy complexion, thinning hair and a neatly trimmed beard and moustache. Samantha knew she shouldn't trust him but it was hard not to after what he had done for her.

* * *

"Oh hi." she said to him as he came out. "You scared me."

"I need to talk to you Sam." he said, face split in a friendly grin. "Come into my office for a second."

Bewildered, she followed him in. As soon as she got in he slammed the door shut.

"What........"

Before she could get the question out he had her by the throat, not pressing down too hard but just enough to restrict her airflow.

"You're going to tell me all about your boyfriend...you're going to tell me _everything_." he growled. His face had turned beet red in rage and when she lashed out at him he squeezed her harder.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she managed to choke out.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Or did he snow you too? Did you know that he stole from me this weekend? Huh? The little bastard came in and took _my_ things. Now I _know_ you've been seeing him. The whole plant knew. So you better fucking tell me the truth. Were you in on this too?"

_Oh God Jack, what did you do?_

"No." she wheezed, trying to dislodge his hands from her neck. "I didn't know anything. Do you think I'm stupid?"

Apparently satisfied he released her but he was still enraged. "No, you're not stupid Sam. You know the life, you knew what your old man was and you know what happens to traitors. Well I'll tell you this, your little friend stole a whole shipment of weapons from me. He stole from _me._ And then come to find out everything about him on his application was fake. Fake! Social security number, birthdate. Everything fake. Even his name! Jack Napier my ass. He started working here with the intention of ripping me off. What do you think about that?"

She didn't answer, she was too shocked to say a word. How could he have given them all that false information and still been hired?

He grinned at her, moving his bulk closer to her, forcing her against the wall. "But here's the good news. We caught him. Things aren't going so well for poor old Jack or whatever the fuck his name is. Matter of fact I'd say he's wishing he'd never thought about fucking with me."

Samantha tried to keep the fear off her face.

He moved over to the television/VCR combo he kept on his desk, a smug grin on his face. "I managed to capture a little bit of it...for posterity you might say. And to show you what happens to people who cross me. You see Sam, I believe that you didn't know what he was planning on doing. But you know, _just in case_ you did I want you to watch this."

He turned the tv on and pressed the 'play' button. "Have a seat."

She did as she was told, her heart plummeting. She had a good idea what she was going to see and it frightened her unspeakably.

The tape was black and white and showed a small room, not much bigger than a jail cell. In it stood a handcuffed figure she instantly recognized and another man she didn't recognize.

"You see we decided to take him to this shrink we know at Arkham. Let him experiment on him a little. You heard of the new drug that's out? No? Well let me tell you, it's something else Sam. Not exactly a fun ride for the person taking it but a blast for the person giving it. See the other guy? That's the shrink. Crane. He loves this shit. Watch and see."

The person Mr. Patterson referred to as Crane slipped something over his head. A mask? It seemed so. He said something to Jack and then she heard a hissing sound. A cloud of mist was barely visible on the tape. Jack coughed and went to his knees, shaking his head from side to side.

Crane deftly took the handcuffs off and whispered something to Jack, she couldn't make out what it was. Whatever it was the effects were instananeous. He began to scream and scream, shrinking away to the furthest corner.

_"I've given him a particularly large dose."_ Crane said to someone off-camera. _"It should be quite interesting to see how much his mind can take before he breaks."_

Jack was shrieking something, the fear in his voice like nothing she'd ever heard. He sounded like a man who had just seen Hell and realized he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

"Fear toxin." Mr. Patterson snickered. "Guaranteed to turn anyone into a sniveling little baby. But you ain't seen anything yet Sam baby. Keep watching."

She hated him. She hated the fat sonofabitch and yet there was nothing she could do but watch.

Crane continued to whisper something to Jack, his voice silky and cold, and Jack curled up into a ball. Samantha thought she heard him say something about Jack's face but she couldn't be sure.

_"Give me the knife we found on him."_ he said to someone off-screen and a few seconds later a hand appeared clutching a small gleaming object.

"_Jack, listen to me. I know you're frightened. Don't be. If you'd only smile your fear would just go away. Like magic! I know it's hard but you can do it. If you do we'll let you go. You can make yourself smile, can't you Jack? Put a smile on your face." _Crane's voice was mocking, barely holding back cruel laughter.

Crane tossed the knife to the floor of the room and left, leaving Jack alone. Mr. Patterson leaned forward in his seat, smiling widely.

"I'm gonna fast forward to the good part." he said. He worked the remote for a few seconds and stopped it at a certain point.

Jack was still on the floor, his arm extended towards the knife. His fingers closed around it and drew it near.

Samantha swallowed thickly, she wanted to close her eyes but knew she couldn't.

Making a bizarre keening noise he moved the blade. Samantha couldn't see what he was doing but she knew he was cutting himself. A pool of blood, black on camera, spread around him.

"Do you _see_ what he's doing? Fucker sliced his mouth up real good. Can you believe that? _He carved his own face up. _I told you....that fear toxin shit is crazy. You wouldn't _believe _what it can make people do._" _Mr. Patterson sounded positively gleeful.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything but see what was happening. Instead she sat and watched, helpless.

_Oh God no. Oh no._ Her mind repeated that over and over in an insane loop.

He finally switched the tv off and turned to her, all humor gone. "We dumped him in a ditch after that. I'd say he probably bled to death but if he didn't he's probably still out there screaming like a loon. Either way you won't be seeing him again. And if you do see him you don't know him. Not that you'll want to now. He's not too pretty anymore. But if I hear _anything_ about you acting funny it'll end badly for you Sam. You know me, you know I'm not bullshitting you. And don't get any ideas about leaving either. You'll stay here and work for me and be a good little employee and keep your mouth shut or I'll fuck you up in so many ways you won't know what happened. I can find you wherever you go and I can find your mom. You understand me?"

She nodded mutely.

"Good. Now get the fuck out of here."

Numbly she left and returned to her desk. The rest of her day was spent in a daze.

* * *

After work she sped to his house, hoping it was all a joke and he'd be there unharmed.

_Please be ok. Please be ok. Pleasepleaseplease._

His car wasn't in the driveway and the door was locked, she beat on the door to no avail. Unperturbed, she went around back, trying the windows until she found one that was loose enough to slide open. Wriggling through she dropped onto the kitchen floor. She had never been inside his house before and wasn't surprised at how desolate and squalid the place was. No wonder he'd loved coming to her apartment.

The house was dim and as she crept around she noticed absently there were no pictures on the wall and no furniture. She found his bedroom, which consisted of a bare mattress and a pillow. A battered nightstand stood next to it. She continued through the house, calling his name softly, stomach in knots. With each room she was both disappointed and relieved.

Finally she came to his cellar door. She paused, hand on the doorknob, taking a deep breath. After a few seconds she opened the door. She found a light switch at the top of the steps and descended.

"Jack? Are you down here?"

No answer.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs the sight that met her eyes made her stop and stare blankly.

Tables. Three fold out types neatly lined up. On one sat enough dynamite and gunpowder to blow the whole block to smithereens. Feeling sick she approached slowly. There were lead pipes, torches, propane tanks, fertilizer and other things she couldn't identify. On another sat pieces of various electronic devices, wires and tools. And on the last table......

Knives. Rows of them, perfectly arranged side by side. Kitchen knives, pocket knives, x-actos, even a machete. Below those sat a coil of rope, zip ties, handcuffs, chain and duct tape.

Samantha turned and ran back up the cellar stairs, hand clamped over her mouth. She made it back to the kitchen before her legs gave out and she slid against the wall and cried, hating herself for it but unable to stop. She remained like that for a long time, until the sun had went down and the house was pitch black. She sobbed and sobbed until her eyes felt like fire and still she couldn't stop. He was gone. The terrible truth of a man she knew nothing about had been laid bare before her and she didn't care. He was gone.

_They dumped him in a ditch to bleed to death._

A revelation came to her then, her mind now incapable of denying it or analyzing it away.

She had fallen in love with him.

That thought nearly broke her and the tears came anew. A pain rose up into her chest, so wrenching and awful she thought she might be dying.

_Weakness. Weakness. Weakness. What have you learned about being weak Samantha? What have you learned? So fucking foolish and now look what's happened. Remember this pain. Never forget it. This is what you get when you're weak._

He was gone, lost to her, and there was nothing she could do.

In the gloom and dirt of the house she hadn't seen the blood splatters. She had no idea a pair of hidden eyes, glittering with pain and madness, watched her. It was just as well.

* * *

**A/N:** I wasn't sure about putting the "L" word in this story but I wanted to do something sweet and sad and almost tragic. Jack got the job at the plant knowing it was mob run and with the intention of stealing weapons and things. Why he did it is another thing altogether. For thrills, to build up his own cache of weapons, because he was hired to do it.....who knows? Running into Samantha was unexpected and his relationship with her made him careless and made him get caught.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **This chapter is an intermission, for lack of a better word.

**CHAPTER NINE**

_Time went by. For a long time she was in a depression so unrelenting and oppressive she wasn't sure if she could take it. _

_"I can't live like this." she'd think to herself. "Death is preferable to this feeling."_

_There was sorrow and rage but mostly there was guilt. Of course she knew she hadn't done anything wrong. Jack had made the decision to steal from the mob. She hadn't even known until it was too late. But the guilt still lingered, puzzling and infuriating._

_She had called hospitals and morgues, describing Jack and his injuries, all to no avail._

_Each and every day she drove by his house, hoping to see his car, hoping to see anything. But nothing changed. His car was never there and the house sat gray and empty in the mangy little lot. _

_Then, a few weeks after it had all went down, she drove by to see that the house had burned to the ground. Yellow caution tape was threaded through the trees, forming a perimeter around the gutted structure. Thin trails of smoke still snaked upwards into the sky. Samantha yanked her car over on the side of the road and stared._

_Had the mob done it? Had _he_ done it? Someone had to have taken the gunpowder and other explosives out, otherwise the entire street would have been leveled._

_Hope leapt up within her heart and she promptly pushed it away. If he were alive wouldn't he have called her? Let her know in some way? No, he was dead, either in a ditch along some desolate stretch of road or buried in the woods. _

_She continued to work at the plant and that was hard. Her hatred of Mr. Patterson was all consuming, the helplessness of her situation maddening. But he had mentioned her mother and she couldn't risk that. No, she'd stick it out. Eventually things would sort themselves out. She told herself that every day and hoped to God it was true. _

_She grew more and more fond of hydrocodone and other pharmaceuticals. What had once been an occasional thing turned into something more. _

_Then one Monday morning she got a phone call from a casual friend at the factory._

_"Don't worry about coming to work today." her friend had said with a snicker._

_"What? How come?" She looked at the clock. 5:48 am. Jesus, why was this person calling her so early?_

_"Because it burned down last night."_

_"_What??"_ She sat upright in bed, the last vestiges of sleep gone._

_"Yeah. Burned to the ground. I don't know too much other than that but listen, there's rumors.....I'm not sure how true they are so don't repeat this. Ok?"_

_"Sure. Go ahead."_

_"I heard they found a body in there. Supposedly it's Patterson. Again I don't know how true that is.....I don't even know why the hell he would have been there on a Sunday night. But that's what I hear. We'll know soon enough I guess."_

_"Yeah." Samantha said. "We'll see."_

_After her friend hung up she sat in bed, looking at the wall but not seeing it. Shock paralyzed her, made it hard to think. Her mind went to Jack and again she wondered. But it was wishful thinking. Don Patterson was involved with the mob, there were many people that would have reason to burn the plant down and possibly murder him. She was longing for a ghost._

_It turned out that the body was indeed Patterson's. He had been tied to a chair in his office and burned alive with his factory. Free of him and not having to worry about her mother Samantha's depression lifted. She found a new job at a call center and no longer had to work at a place filled with the memories of a dead man._

_A few more uneventful years passed and then one day she went to her mother's house only to find her dead. Heart attack the coroner said. She never knew what hit her._

_Samantha considered renting the house out or selling it but in the end moved into it. She just couldn't let it go. It was small home but it had been in her family for years and now it was hers. In honor of her mother, and to cope with her own mourning she planted a rose garden in the front yard._

_At night she'd lie awake in bed thinking 'I'm alone now. All alone.' and at first it saddened her but as time went on the thought made her feel liberated. She was finally getting back to the way she was before Jack. She still took too many pills but that crushing dread was gone. She reckoned it was a fair trade._

_Life went on. Years passed._

_

* * *

  
_

**A/N: **Next chapter will jump to 8 years after the incident with Jack.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I've been asked why Jack didn't let Sam know she was alive and why he let her go through what she did. That'll be explained more as the story goes on but I will say that the stuff messed with his mind so much that he was downright dangerous and homicidal. Plus he didn't want her to see him like that and partially (if wrongly) blamed her for his being caught stealing from the mob factory.

**CHAPTER TEN**

_Eight years later_

"Every time we come here we push our luck a little more." Samantha said as they came upon the bridge that led to the Narrows. This was the fourth time in two weeks that they'd come here.

"Yeah I know." Brian answered, not sounding too worried. "Look at it this way. People come here to buy all the time and nothing happens."

"And sometimes things _do_ happen. Things that make people dead."

Brian shrugged. "I'll watch out for ya babe. And you can't really beat the prices this guy has. But if you don't want to mess with it anymore just say the word."

He knew she wouldn't say no to coming here. The prices were good and she liked to get happy a bit too much. Plus they were careful when they made their little runs to the Narrows. Samantha always carried her gun and they kept a watchful eye on their surroundings. It helped that Brian was six foot four and over three hundred pounds. People took one look at his hulking frame and didn't want to mess with him, he looked as if he could throw a grown man like a doll. If they knew Brian like she did they wouldn't feel that way though.

Samantha had known him for years, since he and his wife moved to Gotham from some podunk town in East Tennessee to live with his ailing father. They'd met through mutual friends and having common ground in caring for sick parents and a love for drugs they'd become friends. He had the stereotypical laid back Southerner attitude but when he was angry he was like a cross between a bear and a drunken barbarian. His wife, Melissa, was a tiny woman that ruled him with an iron fist. Samantha thought it was quite funny and cute watching him break his neck to please her.

"At least we don't have to worry about cops here." she muttered as they drove over the bridge. Cops didn't come to the Narrows often and after the mayhem caused by Crane's fear toxin they had nearly abandoned the place altogether. Samantha remembered the shock she'd felt when she'd heard about the fear toxin being released. She'd thought about Jack and what he had done to himself under the influence of the stuff.

"Exactly!" Brian grinned. He was the eternal optimist. Samantha envied him for that.

* * *

They pulled into their usual buy spot, a dim little motel tucked away in the Narrow's northernmost corner. It was dingy, reeking of piss and smoke, pretty much like everything else in the Narrows. The riots from the fear toxin mayhem hadn't affected it too much, at least not that Samantha could tell. Most of the place was still singed and battered from that night. No one was in a hurry to rebuild. Some thought it was a shame the whole island hadn't been destroyed.

"Be right back. Anything squirrely happens just honk the car horn." Brian said and got out of the car.

Samantha watched him lumber up the rickety metal steps to the third floor. He stopped at room 312 and knocked. After a few seconds the door opened and he disappeared.

This was always the part that made her nervous. Watching him vanish into the room, leaving her out here alone was disconcerting. If anyone were casing them they'd see her as easy pickings right now. Her hand slipped into her purse, fingers curling around the grip of her .38. Doing that always made her feel better. There was one working street light and it was fairly far away but it cast enough light to alert her if anyone was snooping around. She scanned the area, hoping Brian would come out soon.

A slight movement caught her eye. Her eyes locked onto it, making out a form. It strolled along, closer and closer to her car until it was only a few feet away.

'_Great. Just great.'_ she thought angrily, easing the gun out of her purse, trying to make no obvious movements.

The figure advanced, moving towards the rear of the vehicle. She could tell it was male, in dark clothing and that was it. For a moment the man paused, then began to leisurely make circles around the car, like a vulture circling a carcass.

Samantha narrowed her eyes. Even in the low light he didn't look right, he either had a mask or makeup on. She stifled a laugh. Why were Gotham's criminals so damn theatrical? Was it something in the water?

He came around to her side and abruptly rapped on the window. In spite of herself she jumped.

"Out of the car. Now." he said in a gruff voice.

'_Oh shit.'_ She froze, still not looking at him, hand clamped on the gun. Was he a cop or a thug? It didn't matter, she was not about to leave the car.

She was about to honk the horn when Brian came out of the room.

"Hey fuckhead!" he yelled as soon as he saw what was going on. "Get away from there!" He bounded down the steps and was in the man's face in seconds.

Instantly more figures appeared from the shadows. The door to 312 opened again and two men came out of the room, descending the stairs. It was a set-up. This wasn't good. Not at all.

The man Brian was confronting laughed, not at all intimidated that Brian was a few inches taller than him and probably outweighed him by a over a hundred pounds. Of course _he_ had back-up. Brian only had her.

"Why are you messing around this car? Leave her alone." Brian snapped. He came closer to the figure and for a second Samantha saw his face blanch, as if he'd just seen something deeply disturbing.

The other man's only response was more laughter. Before her mind could register what was happening he grabbed Brian by the back of the head. The other hand held a knife to his throat.

Instantly she was out of the car, gun drawn.

"Let him go." she said, forcing her voice to sound calm.

Brian looked at her with wide eyes, shaking his head sorrowfully. She knew he was angry at her for leaving the car. But what did he expect? For her to just sit there? She shrugged at him apologetically.

A clicking sound drew her attention and she saw one of the men with a particularly large gun leveled at her head. To her other side stood another man pointing a shotgun at her and grinning smugly.

And from the shuffling behind her she just _knew_ there was a gun at her back.

But she still had leverage. She had the presumed leader in her sights and wasn't about to back down. Adrenaline rushed through her, burying any fear she would normally have in a situation like this.

"Just get back in the car and leave. Please Sam." Brian said quietly. He was terrified. She'd never seen him like this and it angered her. They hadn't done anything wrong. All they'd wanted to do was get their stuff......

"Let him go." she repeated, unable to stop the anger from seeping into her voice. "We're not here to cause trouble. If you let him go we'll leave and never come back. Promise."

The leader's head tilted curiously and he finally spoke. "And why _are_ you here? Hm?" His tone was amused. He knew why they were here but evidently felt the need to make her say it.

"Looking for a nice bed and breakfast." she snapped. "We're buying drugs....why else would we be in this shithole?"

He emitted a weird giggle at her words. Shoving Brian away he came towards her. She took a half step back and glanced nervously at Brian. One of the men had him firmly by the arm, a gun against his temple. Her eyes flickered back to the man.

He was close now and the sight of him made her breath stop in her throat. The weirdness of his face was due to make-up, globs of white red and black smeared around carelessly. And that grin, so impossibly wide and crimson.....and now she saw why. His mouth had been cut from the corners to partway through each cheek. Red make-up covered his lips and scars, as if to accentuate them.

_Those scars........_

Her mind rewound to that awful day, of viewing the tape. The day both she and Jack had been taught a lesson.

'_He carved his own face up.'_

The sounds of his screams. Black blood spreading around him in a vile pool. She tore her gaze away from his mouth, lifting her eyes to his. What she saw made her knees go weak.

She shook her head and took another step backwards.

_No. This _thing_ is not who I think it is._

A low bubbling laugh erupted from his chest, gradually getting higher and higher pitched until it tapered off into silence.

"Oh, uh, _hi_ _Sam_." he whispered, reaching out to grasp her wrist.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks to those who reviewed! Sorry, not gonna do individual shout outs today, very tired. Love you all!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Wow, I have to thank you all for the reviews and PMs! It makes me feel good that someone is enjoying this story. I'm having a great time writing it! I guess that's pretty obvious from the way I keep updating so fast, haha. Feel free to chat with me anytime via Yahoo or AOL IM. My screen names for both is: oc1971jn

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

She drew away before he could touch her and waved the gun threateningly.

"Don't" she warned.

He pulled his hand back with a hurt look on his face. "Oh Sam....so unfriendly. Aren't you, uh, happy to see me? After all these years?"

"I don't know you." she said steadfastly, eyes never wavering from his.

"Ah ah ah....don't lie. Didn't your mother ever tell ya lying is _bad_ Sam?" He leaned a little closer to her and said in an exaggerated whisper. "Speaking of your mother.....did you get the note I left you?"

There had been a note. She'd found it taped to her door a day after her mother had died.

_I'm so sorry about your mother, Sam._

That was all it had said and of course she had no idea who'd written it. She had wadded it up and thrown it away.

She said nothing, merely looked into his black rimmed eyes, silently praying she could get out of this. She should be happy to see him but all she could feel was......_dismay_. How had he ended up like this? Didn't matter, she wanted to get away from him. Now was not the time to ponder.

_Please God. I'll cut down on the pills. Maybe even dry out. Maybe. Ok, I'll go to a pain clinic and get them legally. Just let us get out of here and please don't let this....man be who I think it is. And if it is don't let him hurt us.....because I'm fairly certain he's insane now._

As if he could hear her silent pleas he backed away, hands up in a motion of surrender.

"Let him go." he told the man holding Brian and he released him instantly.

Brian stumbled towards the car and Samantha followed suit, backing away, not showing the man her back. He waved at her, an enigmatic little smile on his face.

"Bye bye Sam." he called after her. "I'll be seeing you. Soon."

She got in the car with Brian and sped out of the Narrows.

* * *

"Do you _know_ who that was?" Brian gasped as she drove back to his house.

"Yes." she replied. "That was the Joker."

He had been on the news constantly. How many times had she glanced up at the tv to see that twisted face on some homemade videotape that had been sent to GCN? Why had she not recognized him? Granted, she didn't watch the news nearly as much as she used to. In her younger years she'd thought watching the 6 o' clock educated her, helped her understand the world. Later on she realized it was always the same pattern, financial crises, terrorism, rapes, murders, etc. It began to depress her and she stopped tuning in.

Still she had to ask herself why she'd never made the connection. The only thing she could figure was that when she saw him on tv he was always animated, laughing and manic, flashing those yellow teeth and cackling hysterically. Her Jack had never been like that. He had never looked like that. But then, seeing the Joker less than a foot away from her, borderline serious, seeing the scars up close and then those _eyes_....that had made it click for her. Behind their unbalanced gleam she'd caught a fleeting glimpse of the man she'd once known. Jack.

"How the hell does he know you?"

She paused for a second. "I don't know. All I know is let's not do that again."

He looked at her sceptically but didn't push the matter. This was one of the many reasons she liked Brian. He never pressed her or judged. He'd just run into Gotham's most infamous criminal, a man who'd blown up a hospital for God's sake, and that criminal seemed to know one of his dear friends....and he wasn't saying anything. Anyone else would have been raving and demanding she call the police.

"So, where are we gonna go to buy now?" he finally said, not only half joking.

Samantha cast him a sidelong look and burst into laughter.

"What? I mean...we may not be welcome there anymore Miss Annie Oakley."

That made her laugh even harder and pretty soon he joined in.

* * *

She dropped him off at his apartment and went in long enough to get Melissa's reaction when he told her of the night's misadventure.

"Jesus." Melissa exclaimed. "What were you thinking Sam? You should have left his ass there."

Brian glared at her as he crushed a pill up on the kitchen table. "Gee thanks bitch....err I mean loving wife."

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Anything could have happened, especially if that was the Joker. Do you know how bad he is?? He blows things up and cuts people! He escaped from that Batman guy! I can't believe he didn't kill you two."

"I told you....he knows Sam." Brian said, shooting a look at Samantha. "She won't say anything but he knew her. I could tell."

Melissa's expression switched to a mixture of interest and mockery. "Really? Did you used to screw him Sam?"

Samantha shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know him. He's crazy. Probably just messing with us or thought he knew me."

"Mmm-hmm." Melissa clearly didn't believe her. "Should we call the police? I mean....he's wanted. He's dangerous."

"No." Brian said swiftly, cutting a couple of lines out with a razor. "No ratting. They'll catch him soon enough. He's been laying low since that shit with the hospital and the ferries anyway. Maybe he's got all that violence out of his system."

"He's just laying low because the Batman is not coming around." Samantha said. "Every cop in the city is after Batman for killing those people, which is bullshit. So he's busy hiding, not getting bad guys. When he comes out of hiding the Joker will too I think."

"I bet he didn't even kill that Harvey whatshisface." Melissa said, eyeing Brian as he evened the lines out.

"Well I'm gonna go home." Samantha said. "Gonna get high and forget this night ever happened."

She said her goodbyes and promised Brian she'd call him the next day.

"Be careful going home." he urged. "That freak seemed to like you. He might find out where you live."

"I doubt that." Samantha responded. "I'll be fine. You two have fun, I'm out."

She left and headed home.

* * *

She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally in the safety of her house. What Brian said about him finding out where she lived bothered her a tiny bit. Of course Jack knew where she used to reside but that was when her mother was still alive and Sam was still living in an apartment back then.

She got a buzz and finally allowed herself to think about what had happened.

Strange that she felt so numb about the whole thing when eight years ago she'd been so devastated by Jack's supposed death. But seeing what he was now should she be happy? Maybe it would have been better off if he _had_ died. That thought immediately shamed her and she put her head down on her kitchen table, the cool wood soothing against her forehead.

It was all so surreal. Jack was the Joker. The gorgeous yet strange twenty-one year old was now a homicidal twenty-nine year old master criminal. And she was now a thirty-four year old recreational drug user and slacker. The same thing she'd been at twenty-six. She laughed softly to herself. At least _he_ had changed. She never would.

"What's so funny?" a voice behind her whispered.

* * *

**A/N: **Uh-oh, Sam has a visitor.

I should add that Jack/Joker had nothing to do with the death of Sam's mother. Purely natural causes.

Also I'll point out some of the things that Jack accepting Sam's offer of a ride changed:

1. He ends up getting caught stealing from the factory. In the first one he didn't get caught. He quit, then stole. His relationship with Sam in this story made him stay at the job and made him a little careless.

2. Sam doesn't get in a car accident and doesn't meet Officer Bennett (although she may run into him later on in this story). The reason for this is Mr. Patterson orders her to stay at the factory. In the other story she quit and got a job at a call center. She was coming home from that job when she got in the wreck.

She's a bit different in this story, a little "lighter" and more carefree, because she hasn't had those horrible things happen to her. Also her relationship with Joker is not as combative and traumatizing because she had strong feelings for Jack and wasn't kidnapped by the Joker.

And that's all I can think of right now, although I'm sure there's something else I'm forgetting.

Also, the characters Brian and Melissa are based on RL friends of mine. I mentioned East Tennessee in the last chapter because that's where I happen to live.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** This one is kinda short and I'm a bit weirded out by it. But anyway, here it is.

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Samantha sprung to her feet so fast she turned over the chair she'd been sitting in. The sound of it hitting the tile floor echoed like an explosion. Spinning around she realized she was face to face with the Joker.

_My gun is in the other room. Damndamndamn. _

He cocked an eyebrow at her, as if surprised by her reaction.

"I said...what's so funny?" he asked, smiling happily.

"Get the _fuck_ out of here." she hissed, moving towards the sink and the steak knife in the dish drainer.

He rolled his tongue around inside his cheek and frowned. "Not much of a, um, welcome Sam. And don't bother with that knife. I took it."

A quick glance at the drainer proved he was telling the truth.

"Why are you here?" she asked, mind grasping for another way out.

He brushed at his dirty purple coat and raised his eyes to the ceiling, whether in thought or annoyance she couldn't tell. "To see _you_ of course. It's been a long time hasn't it? Didja think I was dead?"

"Yeah. Yeah I did." Her back was against a counter and she realized she couldn't go any further. The only way was to run past him.

"Well I'm not." he held his arms out, as if inviting inspection. "I'm, uh, quite alive. So why do you want to get away from me?"

She took a deep breath. "Because....."

"Because what?" his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Sensibility told her not to tell the truth. The truth was she wanted to get away because he looked like a demonic clown. The truth was she couldn't accept this was Jack.

"You broke into my house." she muttered. "You held a knife to my friend's throat. I know who you are now...and you're.....not a good person." It sounded ridiculous but at the moment she couldn't think of anything better.

"Hmm. Sorry about your friend. He your _boyfriend?_"

"No. Just a friend."

"And as for breaking into your house." He sat casually on the edge of the table. "Well I wanted to see you and I can't exactly run into you at the grocery store now can I?"

Samantha didn't respond.

"I've been watching you for a while Sam." he continued. "For a _very_ long time. I've kept close tabs on you. But I, ah, tried to forget about you. Tried. I've been keeping busy and that made me....forget." He tapped his temple with one gloved finger, eyes boring into hers. "But, um, one day I'm in the Narrows and _there you were._ Buying your drugs. And you looked sooo pretty ya know? And I couldn't stop myself. That dealer your friend bought from? One of _my_ men. All I did was watch while you sat in the car. And that's all I planned on doing. But then....I wanted a closer look at ya. Couldn't, uh, _help myself_ so to speak."

He had started moving towards her as he spoke, almost as if he didn't realize he was doing it. It was the sort of thing Jack did and she felt that bittersweet ache in her chest. How long had it been since she'd felt that?

When he was a foot away from her he stopped. "I just wanted to see you Sam. See...I didn't want to hurt you then...I don't want to hurt you _now_. Just, uh, just let me look at you and I'll leave. I'll leave and I'll nev-er bother you again. Sound good?"

He regarded her with an almost sad expression, chewing his bottom lip.

"Let me, ah, guess Sam....you can't stand the sight of me. _Can you_?" his voice took on an edge.

"No. That's not true." she finally said.

He smirked, obviously not believing her. Those dark eyes were taking on a dangerous glaze and she realized she better watch her step.

"It isn't true." she insisted. "The way you look doesn't bother me. _It doesn't._" Suddenly eight years worth of emotions welled up in her and she could no longer reign herself in. "You know what _does_ bother me? You let me think you were dead. I was fucking crushed. I looked for you and looked for you and cried myself to sleep at night. I felt fucking guilt like you wouldn't believe. I mourned you and you were alive the whole time. You couldn't call or write a goddamn letter?"

Her voice had risen to a hoarse shout and she felt a tear sliding down her cheek but still she didn't stop. He had a lot of nerve breaking into her house and giving her a hard time. After what he'd put her through?

"It took a long time for me to get over that. I had nightmares of you cutting your face. And oh yes I saw the tape. I know what they did to you. The day it happened I came to your house....looking for you. Desperate. All I found was the stuff you had in your basement. And I went upstairs and fucking broke down....."

"I know." he interrupted. "I saw."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. He had watched her break down, thinking he was dead, and done nothing?

In a moment of rage she did something very foolish.

She slapped him.

The second she did it she cursed herself. He deserved it. Actually he deserved more. But he was dangerous now, very dangerous and what she'd just done could get her killed. Her hand fell limply to her side.

For a moment he looked at her in amazement. Then, before she could do anything, he pinned her against the counter. She thrashed and struggled against him, trying to knee him in the groin but he held her fast. His hands pulled her arms behind her back and she snarled at him furiously.

Then she realized he was embracing her. It wasn't a typical embrace, it was definitely more brutal than the way most people did it. But it was an embrace nonetheless. He let go of her wrists and slid his arms around her waist, crushing her, and sorrow flooded through her..

"Damn you. Damn you. Damn you. Why did you do that to me?" she whispered. "Why?" More tears slid down her face and she hated it, felt so weak and stupid but she couldn't stop herself.

He didn't answer, only buried his face in her hair. His body was stiff against hers and it seemed as if at any moment he might attack her or toss her aside. But he never did.

Face against his shoulder she cried. Her body shook with sobs and she didn't bother to stop herself now. She hated him and yet still loved him. But more than anything she was happy to see him, to feel him again. He was a monster now...but at that moment she didn't care. He was back.

---------------

**A/N: **Ok so...I can't believe I just wrote that. I may not respect myself in the morning, lol.

Also I know this isn't very Jokerish, at least not the way I normally write him and I'm sure someone is gonna squeal "ZOMG OOC!" at the top of their lungs pretty soon. But there's a reason he's acting like that and he's not gonna be like that for the rest of the story. In a way he's sort of reverted back to Jack (hey that rhymed...nifty) with Samantha. Before everything happened she was his closest human contact. Sure he's a badass and he's not a nice guy but it's a bit naive and narrow minded to think he's not a human with human emotions and he's this cuh-razzzyyyy killing machine 24/7.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Ok, glad to know everyone didn't think last chapter was too OOC. I liked it and didn't think it was too far-fetched given their history.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

They stood like that for a moment before Sam finally came to her senses. As if coming awake from a dream she pulled away from him, mortified that she had been crying on his shoulder. He jerked back and began to pace, clearly agitated.

"Do you _know_ what would have happened if I'd come out when you were in my house?" he asked. He ran a hand through his messy hair before continuing. "I would have killed you Sam. Or hurt you. My, ah, my head wasn't on straight then."

_'And it isn't now'_ she thought. This man was light years away from her Jack. Jack wasn't normal, to be sure, but he'd never been like _this_.

"Why?" she asked simply, although she suspected she already knew the answer.

He wouldn't look at her. "That....._poison_ they gave me. It made me see.....things. Made me afraid and mad. Quite mad."

"And you blamed me for you getting caught, didn't you?"

He cast her a look from the corner of his eye. "Yes. Yes I did. I was gonna come out but I kept thinking 'if I do....well I might turn on her.' You'd already seen my, uh, collections. If you'd seen my face you would have screamed and that would have been it for you."

She shook her head sadly. "I wouldn't have screamed Jack. I already told you.....I knew what happened to you. Patterson had it taped and he made me watch. I saw everything."

Her words seemed to rile him. "Don't call me that. And another thing.....don't feel sorry for me. I became what I wanted. It was always there Sam. That stuff, it freed me, released me from my, um, my fears. After that I had the courage to start over. The person you see today is the person I always was." His eyes searched her face expectantly. "Now do you understand why I stayed away?"

She nodded. It was beginning to make sense to her. It still angered her and it still stung but she could see what he was trying to say. He had not wanted to hurt her, and if he'd made contact with her at that point he surely would have. And after he got better he'd reinvented himself. Part of reinventing yourself was doing away with things from your old life. She understood completely.

"I kept an eye on you all this time Sam. Couldn't quite let ya go. Even when I was busy _playing_ I made sure someone watched you."

"Did you burn your old house down?" she asked.

"Um, yeah. I burned the factory down too and ole' Patterson with it. I did it partly for rev-enge but I mostly did it for you."

She wiped the now cold tears from her face. "I don't know what to say......"

"No need to thank me. See? I'm not a monster. Just different." He smiled, suddenly pleased with himself. "A _visionary_ you could say."

"Well your ego has certainly developed well in eight years. And I wasn't going to thank you by the way. He deserved it but I still won't thank you for murdering someone."

He scrutinized her, sucking on the insides of his cheeks thoughtfully. He just couldn't leave those scars alone she thought.

"Nice place by the way." he said. The change of subject was so abrupt and tactless she had to laugh. "This is the family home I heard so much about, hm? Very, ah, cozy."

"Thanks." she said, feeling like she'd just been dropped down the rabbit hole.

"Oh! Since we're okay now I guess I can give these back." He reached into the inner pockets of his coat and began dumping knives out onto the table. Her kitchen knives. He'd had every one of them in his pockets. The last thing to come out was her .38 and she shook her head in amazement. He must have rushed to her house as soon as she'd left the Narrows.

"How did I not feel those when you had me against the counter?" she marveled.

He merely shrugged and put the chair she'd overturned upright and flopped down into it. "I almost forgot." he said, digging into his pockets once more. He produced a well worn book and placed it on the table next to the pile of knives. "This is yours too."

It was a copy of "The Songs of Maldoror" that she'd lent him eight years ago. A part of the book came to her where the narrator, a masochist unable to experience happiness, cuts his mouth so he could smile. She shuddered.

"Good book." he remarked. If he noticed her shudder he didn't let on.

"I still have the ones you brought me." she said, remembering him bringing them to her that night so long ago.

"_Sit down_ Sam." he huffed impatiently. "I'm not gonna murder you. Dontcha want to talk to me?"

She pulled a chair up and sat down uneasily. She did want to talk to him but she was wary of what he might want from her.

"Why are you here now, after all these years?" she inquired boldly, putting her thoughts into words. No point in wondering when she could just ask point blank.

"I already told you. Couldn't help myself."

"So you saw me the first time Brian and I came to the Narrows?"

"Yes. As luck would have it one of my men sells happy pills on the side. Normally I'd have, um, punished him for doing that. Too risky y'know? But when I saw that you and your friend were customers I let him. In fact I _insisted_. See, when I was busy with the Bat-Man I didn't think about you...not much at all. But now that he's made a martyr out of himself and isn't doing anything I have free time. And then there you were again....out of the blue." His voice turned dark. "After that I figured, hey that must mean something, right? I just got carried away tonight, wanted to get you out of that car so I could get a good look at ya."

He looked her over with unabashed appreciation. "And I have to say Sam....you look damn good. Stunning actually. Anyway... after you left I got this, um, _urge_. Wanted to come see you. I knew you wouldn't open the door for me." He shrugged dismissively. "I already knew how to get in your house so I figured why not? After you came in I took your gun from your purse. You really shouldn't leave it lying out in the living room."

"Wait a second...what do you mean by you already know how to get in my house? You've broken in here before?"

"Just once." he retorted. "I didn't take anything. Just looked around a little. Nice bed by the way. King sized...hmmm." He smiled wolfishly.

"Christ. You've been _stalking _me? For _eight_ years?" She shook her head, both angry and amused.

"Stalking is a strong word."

"And an appropriate one."

He conceded the point with another shrug and began playing with one of the knives.

"I don't know what to say Jac....uh...I mean look what you've done to this city. You've blown a hospital up, messed the police station up pretty good, killed who knows how many people. Let's see what else...."

"Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes." he grinned triumphantly. "Don't forget about those two."

She slapped the table. "I knew Batman didn't have anything to do with Dent!"

"Oh I didn't kill him. I merely...en-lightened him."

"Enlightened." she muttered. She half expected the entire Gotham PD, Batman and a SWAT team to come bursting into her house at any time. The worst criminal Gotham had ever known was sitting in her kitchen chatting like everything was perfectly normal......and she was going along with it.

"What's with the....." she motioned to his face. "make-up and green hair? Why so theatrical?"

He beamed proudly, exposing those yellow teeth. "It's warpaint, designed to ah strike fear into people's hearts.....it's _who I am_ now."

"Sure you're not hiding?" she asked. "Using it like a mask?"

He ignored her. "Listen, you've had your questions." He scooted his chair closer to her and leaned forward, chin in his palm. "My turn."

"Not much to tell......"

"Oh but there _is_ Sam. You missed me didn't you?"

She hesitated. Even the most innocuous of words sounded sinister coming from his mouth. Should she tell him the truth and make herself vulnerable or put on a front and have him see the lie on her face?

"I did. I would think that's obvious."

"Are you scared of me?"

"A little. You're not the same. To be honest I'm not sure what to expect from you."

"You're the only person in this city who _shouldn't_ be afraid of me. Did I, uh, mention how pretty you are? You haven't changed one bit." He smacked his lips, openly looking her over.

'_Looks like he got over that shyness thing'_ she thought.

He got up and circled her, much like he'd done earlier when she was in her car. When he walked behind her she stood up and faced him.

"Nervous?" he asked mockingly.

She turned as he circled, not wanting him at her back. After a few seconds it became a game, similar to the power struggles they used to have in bed.

Her hair was in a ponytail and he reached for it, deftly pulling the band out. Her hair fell loose in the usual messy state that he'd always liked. From the grin on his face he still liked it.

"Better." he growled, stroking it before she moved away from him. "It's so long. I like that." His voice was calm but his eyes were sly, like they used to get when he'd challenge her.

Suddenly he closed in on her, putting his hands on her shoulders to keep her still.

"What do you want from me?" she whispered. The old excitement was coming back. The way he looked and acted wasn't stopping it, if anything it was heightening it. This was still Jack, the same man who used to make her scream. The same man who wanted things from her that still made her wet when she thought about them.

"Nothing." he answered. His mouth was inches away from hers.

'_This is such a bad idea. He's a murderer, a psychopath. What the hell's wrong with you?'_

"Do you want me to leave Sam?" he asked. His smile was gone and he studied her intently.

'_Tell him to go and never come back. If you don't.....you'll be sorry.' _That damn voice of reason just wouldn't leave her alone.

"No." she told him. "I don't want you to leave."

* * *

**A/N: **I wouldn't have kicked him out either. And I have to admit, it is fun writing a "softer" type Joker story. Don't worry, he won't be playing My Little Pony with Sam anytime soon, hahahaha.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

"Good. We've got catching up to do."

"I...I guess." she stammered, already second guessing her decision.

"It's hard to get your mind around it, isn't it?" he asked, still very close to her. "The person you've seen on the news and what you see in front of you right now. Does it bother you...that the guy you used to, uh, _sleep with_ now blows buildings up...for fun?"

"I'm not responsible for what you've done. But yeah, it bothers me."

"But you're still _interested._ Don't lie....I can tell.."

"You're the one who keeps checking me out."

He stepped away then, eyes regretful. "I _told_ ya, I can't help myself."

She looked him over, struck by how thin he appeared. Even with the long coat on it was evident.

"Do you need something to eat?." she asked coolly, careful not to sound solicitous. "You look kind of skinny."

He gave her a strangely wistful little half-smile. "You just can't shake that nice thing of yours, can you?"

"Nice? Me? No, I'm human. There's food in the fridge if you want it. I'm not gonna fix it for you so help yourself." She wasn't about to cater to him, already felt guilty offering him something to eat.

That speculative gaze on her again. She wondered what was going through his head and decided it was better she didn't know. It had always been easy for her to read people, growing up as she did had put her in contact with all types, most of them criminal. But these people had been thieves, dealers, low level mobsters, addicts. Never had she come across someone like this.

Unbidden her mind went back to the kind of men she'd known all her life. Cheap leather coats (sometimes Pleather) greasy hair, artlessly applied department store cologne. Their skin was usually bad, eyes furtive and aggressive, searching for any sign of disrespect in others. The women they dated were hard-faced, bleached, tanned and over-plucked, steely eyes sizing up other females with either disdain or envy.

It was a stereotype but it was also the fundamental truth of the small fish her parents had associated with. Nothing had ever prepared her for this. The things this man wanted weren't the same things thugs wanted. They'd all wanted money, drugs, women, power. What did he want?

'_Fear. Chaos. To watch this entire city tear itself to shreds.' _Her inner voice, the one that prodded her to do the right thing insisted this but she didn't think it was that simple. It never was.

While she was thinking he'd gotten up and gotten a piece of chicken from the refrigerator. Within seconds the meat was stripped from it and he crunched into the bone enthusiastically, causing her to laugh.

"There's two more pieces in there, go ahead and eat them. No point eating bones."

"I like the bones. Marrow."

"Uh ok. Chow down then."

He did just that, making short work of the chicken and spitting shards of bone into the trash. Then he gulped down two glasses of water, spilling a good deal of it down his chin, smearing the already messy greasepaint.

Lighting a cigarette she sat down, pulling an ashtray close. "So what now?" she asked. "I've talked to you, fed you, answered your questions."

Continuing to examine the contents of her refrigerator he absently said "Up to you. I'm afraid I'm not as much fun to be around anymore Sam." He turned around, sardonic mischief gleaming in his eyes. "Unless of course you're interested in, ah, causing some troub-le."

She froze up. "No. No fucking way. If you want a helper I suggest you go elsewhere 'cause I'm not it. I'm sure there's some disgruntled girls too young to know better that would just _die_ to ride your coattails."

He laughed. "See, that's what I like about you. You don't fit the standards. You don't go along with things to make people happy."

"Standards?" she frowned.

"Oh you know. The people that were your parents....the things you saw....you didn't let it affect you too much did you?"

She sighed in frustration. "God, not this. I'm not the most upstanding person in the world but I know right from wrong if that's what you mean. And the way I was raised doesn't mean I'm gonna run around hurting others in some misguided attempt to make society pay. Lots of people have fucked up lives, boo hoo. Get over it. It's stupid to take it out on people that had nothing to do with it. It's a cop-out and it's weak. There's babies out there being beat to death by their parents and I see people crying and whining because they don't like their goddamn lives in the suburbs. Besides." she stubbed her cigarette out and smiled grimly. "My life was fine when I was a kid. My life is fine now."

"Hmm. That why you snort pills every day?"

"I do that because it makes me feel good. You should try it sometime, might relax you a little. And what about you? Hey, if you really wanted to make a difference in the world you'd plant a bomb in the Death Row wing of prisons, not blow up little old ladies and children."

He cocked his head at her in amazement. "Ya know....no one's talked to me like that in I don't know how long." He took a few steps closer to her and she cursed herself.

'_Good job on opening your big mouth and insulting him. Real nice.'_

But she refused to let him see her apprehension. Others might cringe and grovel around him but by God she wasn't going to. Intuition told her he'd let her get away with a lot. Why she wasn't sure. It was pretty much a given that if anyone else spoke to him like this they'd probably be choking on their own blood right now.

His gloved hands went into his coat pocket and she stiffened. Then again maybe he wouldn't let her get away with too much. It was stupid to think she was special just because he'd known her years ago....

"You're feisty....." he mused. "Even more than you used to be. I like that."

She was about to answer when in a split second he grabbed her under the arms and hauled her up, slamming her against the counter in the same spot she'd been against earlier.

"I _like it._" he whispered harshly, close to her again. Way too close for her liking. Her heart pounded like a out of control drum and adrenaline made her fingers tingle. "Let's see what comes out of that _mouth_ of yours if I say...." He rolled his eyes back, she could almost see the thoughts buzzing along in his head. "If I say I'd like to, uh, throw you over that table. Ya still like it rough Sam? _I do._"

"Get your goddamn hands off me." she said as authoritatively as possible, trying to keep her fear hidden. Samantha didn't fight him, knowing that he was sizing her up, testing her mettle. She told herself she was up to the challenge.

"I'll take that as a yes." He grinned infuriatingly and pressed his hips closer to her and she could feel his excitement. Her own body responded to that, which only made her anger grow.

His mouth was at her ear now. "I _told_ you not to be afraid of me. I _told_ you I wouldn't hurt you. Why won't you believe me?"

"Because you've got me shoved against the fucking kitchen counter?" she snapped. His breath was hot in her ear and it brought all sorts of things to mind that she didn't need to think about.

"Is it the scars?" he asked and the plaintive sound in his voice saddened her.

"No. It's not that. Never that."

His hands slipped behind her neck, pushing her towards him and then his mouth was on hers. She wanted to resist but the memories of Jack flooded her. For the first time that night she felt him completely. He still kissed in the same way, in an awkward and fierce manner that she'd always loved. His hands went to her hair, grabbing handfuls of it and pulling lightly.

And it felt so good that even her annoying voice of reason was silent.

-----------------------------

**A/N:** Time to get some!!!!!!!! Just kidding.

I never could place in my mind what Sam looks like and I've finally decided she kinda sorta looks like Drea de Matteo (Adriana of "The Sopranos" fame) except much scruffier and nowhere near as glamorous. And not as blonde. Like if Drea was a regular person and not as showbizzed out. Drea is also around the right age. I don't like comparing an OC to an actress, especially a beautiful actress, but I will say Sam isn't as pretty as Drea. She's not ugly...just more "normal". Bleh...anyways.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Her control was slipping away and she cared less with each second that passed. This was all kinds of wrong but it was becoming increasingly hard to care.

'_Just one time. That's all. Just this once.'_

His hands tightened in her hair, tugging harder and she returned his kiss aggressively. A low moan emitted from deep in his throat and his tongue slid into her mouth. Her hands left the counter and moved to his sides, pulling him in closer.

His mouth broke away from hers and he moved down, head pushing her chin back as he went to her throat. His teeth scraped against her flesh and she bit her bottom lip, eyes shut, hands gripping him tightly. The need was downright painful now and it took all her willpower not to undress right there.

The sound of his ragged breathing was hypnotic and she concentrated on that, trying not to think of what she was about to do. But then he spoke. Samantha was sure he did it to break the momentum. As to why she couldn't say.

"You _sure_ you want this?" he breathed and she could feel his smile against her skin. A revulsion came over her, only made worse when she looked down at him.

When she had told him it wasn't the scars she'd been telling the truth. It was everything else. The smeared greasepaint, the dead eyes, the laconic grin. The fact that he was a murderer and terrorist. There was no escaping it. She was suddenly very sure he'd deliberately spoke to her to snap her back to reality.

He felt her stiffen and giggled, face still pressed into her neck.

"Awww...what's wrong Sam? Don't like me as much as ya used to? Do I _disgust_ you?" He ground into her and she could feel how hard he was. Her hands were dying to touch it, to take what she wanted just like she used to. Would he let her?

_'Of course he will. He was weak for you then and he still is. Look at him.....Mr. Murder himself making out with you when he should be planning an assassination or something. You want it, take it. It'll be a wild ride, you might get some bruises along the way, but it'll be worth it. If he was good then, how do you think he'll be now? Fucking incredible probably.'_

Her voice of reason had even turned on her, now just the voice of horniness.

"Stop." she whispered. "_STOP_." Her traitorous body screamed for him but she ignored it. He'd let her twist in the wind for all this time, merrily going about his life of crime until he saw fit to enter her life again. She would not give him this, he would not get his way. Not this time.

He growled in frustration and she wondered if she'd let this go too far but he finally moved away from her.

"See, I knew you'd do that." he said, straightening up to look at her. "You're still mad, aren't you? About what happened."

Emotions raw, not thinking, she said. "I used to love you, did you know that? But seeing what you are now I know I can't do this. I just can't Jack."

He didn't bother to correct her, only frowned. "What do you want Sam? Hm? For me to beg for your, ah, forgiveness? You know that's never gonna happen. I did what _I_ needed to do."

"Of course you did." she muttered. "Just leave. Now."

"I didn't ask for your _love_." he hissed. "And you remember this.....I'm not going anywhere. I'll leave but I'll always be around. _Always._" He planted a rough kiss on her lips and turned away.

"Why?" she shouted, frustration and anger getting the better of her. "Why?"

Without saying a word he left.

* * *

"So where are we gonna go now that we got kicked out of the Narrows by Crazy Clown Freak?" Brian asked.

"The west side?" They were sitting in Samantha's Cavalier discussing where they could buy from. They'd run out of pills two days ago and were having no luck finding anything. The Narrows had been a good thing. Samantha knew they hadn't been "kicked out". They could probably go back but she didn't want to do that. He might be around and she didn't want to see him.

Samantha nodded. "We could. You know that guy Abe, he might have something. Place is lousy with cops though. That part of town always is. Remember what happened that one time we went there?"

They'd been heading back to Brian's apartment after making a buy on Gotham's west side and Samantha had been pulled over by some rookie cop.

"_Miss, did you know you have a brake light out?"_

_She thought about lying, then decided not to. "Yeah. Sorry, it hasn't been like that for long. I just haven't had the money to get it fixed." She smiled at him apologetically._

_The cop eyed her, not smiling back. He was young and uptight looking. Brian looked out the passenger side window and smirked._

_"I won't write you a ticket. Get that fixed though. If I see you again with that out I won't be as nice."_

_"Thanks Officer." her eyes scanned his name tag. "Bennett."_

_"Mmm-hmm. Be careful."_

_"Sure thing." she grinned._

"Man that cop was weird. I've heard of him, he came from Parnall. All the cops out that way are fucked up." Brian said.

"Yeah he was out there. Kept staring me up and down like he'd never seen a woman before."

"It's those boobs of yours."

"Shh you. Now what do you say, west side or........."

"Let me try to call Abe."

Brian dialed Abe's number on his cell, glowering as the phone rang and rang.

"Fucker's not home."

Samantha sighed. "Now what?" The cold chills and clammy sweat that came from not having anything were getting bad.

"Dunno. We could try the Narrows, just not that same part."

"We don't know anyone else there and I don't really want to get shot today."

"Well I don't want to get my throat cut by the Joker today."

She thought for a long while. "He won't do anything. Tell you what.....you drive this time and let me go over there."

Brian's eyes went wide. "What??? Are you insane? Do you remember what happened last time? He....."

"He won't do anything to me and his guys won't either." She hoped she was right.

"The hell he won't. Plus if the Joker is around we take the chance cops might come."

"If they do come and find him two drug buyers will be the least of their concerns Brian."

He squinched his face up thoughtfully. "Yeah...you've got a point."

She kept telling herself she didn't really want to do this. Going back to the Narrows to buy after what had happened between her and the Joker just four days ago was foolish. She tried to tell herself she didn't want to see him. It was all denial of course. Knowing who he was it was hard just to break ties with him.

"_I'll always be around. Always."_

Those parting words still resonated in her mind and she felt herself irresistibly drawn to him, whether from curiosity or something stronger she wasn't sure.

She had to do something.....she had to work tomorrow and even though her withdrawal symptoms weren't severe it was a real bitch to act friendly and happy when you were sweating buckets and having stomach pains.

"Let's go to the Narrows." she sighed.

* * *

**A/N:** The Joker was just as much to blame for action not happening as Sam was. He deliberately spoke, knowing it would break the spell. She's understandably freaked out and it'll take some time to "adjust".

Wow that cop that pulled Sam and Brian over seems familiar. Oh dear.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Thanks to my reviewers and readers. I've said it a hundred times and I'll say it again....you have no idea how much I appreciate your kind words. Seriously, your reviews and private messages make my day.

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

"Samantha I can't do this. I'm not going in there but I can't let you go either. This whole thing makes me feel like a fuckin' pussy."

They were at the little motel in the Narrows and Brian was balking at the idea of her going to room 312 alone.

"You can't 'let me'? There's no 'let' about it, I'm not a kid. I'm gonna do it and that's that." She slipped her gun in the pocket of her jacket and started to exit the car.

"You know what I mean. Look.....this is a bad bad bad idea. We can go somewhere else. We can....."

"I know him Brian." she stated bluntly.

"What?" He frowned at her, unsure of what she meant.

"You can't say anything about this to _anyone_. Promise me."

"O...kay. But what the fuck are you talking about?"

She knew she shouldn't tell him about her and the Joker's history but if it would put him at ease she'd bite the bullet and do it.

"I know him." she repeated, settling back in the seat. "We used to work together....years ago." It sounded so ridiculous out loud, saying that she used to work with the Joker, that he had once been an ordinary guy working at a shitty job.

"You're kidding me, right? So that's why he acted like that with you!"

"Yeah. We uh....were kind of friends. Look, I don't have time to tell you the whole thing. Just trust me, okay? He's not gonna hurt me. You're another story so just sit tight and _don't_ get out of the car. And keep the doors locked."

He nodded, too dumbstruck to say anything. Satisfied, Samantha got out of the car.

As she made her way upstairs she gathered herself, summoning her innate confidence, pulling herself up to her full 5'10 frame. Her self assurance had served her well in the past, had gotten her out of many jams. Tonight she wasn't feeling particularly confident but she had faith in her ability to bluff. And if all else failed she had a gun.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door to 312. A faint shuffling could be heard, then whispers. She was sure someone was watching her through the peephole. Then the door opened.

"Whaddaya want?" the person at the door was a young guy, early twenties, shorter than her, oily and suspicious.

It occurred to her she'd went into this without a plan. Not letting that thought bother her she smiled. "Hey, you know me and Brian, right? We've been here before. I wanted to know if you were doing anything."

He grinned. "Oh yeah I know you. You caused some trouble here the other night didn't ya? Boss said you'd be back."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "He was right. I've got three hundred....you got anything for me to buy?"

He looked over her shoulder, obviously looking for someone else. She could guess who. "Yep. Gimme a second. I'll be right back."

With that he shut the door in her face. Samantha turned and looked over at her car. Brian was watching her anxiously and she gave him a thumbs up. Despite her attitude she felt uneasy. Jack wasn't in the room, he was out here somewhere. He wouldn't lower himself by hanging out with these guys.

Lightning flashed on the horizon and a damp breeze ruffled her hair. A dog barked nearby. Someone was watching her, she knew it.

'_Don't get spooked, don't show fear. Ignore it. Let him watch you, eventually he'll get tired of it.'_

The door finally opened. "Here you go." the guy said, handing her a small unmarked pill bottle. Samantha opened it, dumping the contents into her hand and examining them.

"I gave you extras." he said. "Boss's orders."

"Thanks." she muttered, handing him the money.

"Come back anytime, I've always got stuff. You're the only one I can sell to anyway. Boss doesn't like it." He sounded resentful.

Not responding Samantha descended the stairs. As she approached her car she smiled widely at Brian, letting him know things had went well.

"Check it out." she said when she got in the car. "We got extras."

"No shit? Why...because of him? Was he there?"

"I guess so. And no he wasn't there. Didn't see him anyway."

"You used to screw him didn't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Melissa said the same thing, remember? And it's none of your business."

"In other words....yes." He elbowed her gently, his tension finally gone now that they were done.

She laughed despite herself. As they left the Narrows a car followed them, staying far behind.

* * *

She dropped Brian off at his place and headed home. It was getting late, almost eight thirty and she was eager to get home and relax. Normally she didn't speed but tonight she went a little faster than usual.

She was only a mile from her house when she realized she'd just blown past a cop while going ten miles over the speed limit.

Instantly the blue lights cut on and she swore furiously. Hopefully she'd just get a ticket and wouldn't be searched. God, that wouldn't be good at all, not carrying pills she didn't have a prescription for.

The road was dark and narrow and she had to go a little ways before she could find a place to pull over. Finally she found a little turn-around spot off the side of the road and pulled over there. The cruiser pulled in behind her. For a moment the cop remained in the car. Samantha waited, hands tight on the steering wheel, watching as rain began to splatter on the windshield of her car.

'_Running my plates more than likely....or taking his fucking time on purpose. Making me sweat it out.'_

Finally he got out and slowly made his way to her car. She rolled the window down and squinted into the beam of his flashlight.

"I was speeding, I know." she said, hoping her admission of guilt would make him go lightly on her.

"Yes you were. I see you got that brake light fixed though."

The flashlight moved away from her face a bit and after her eyes adjusted she could see it was the same cop that had pulled her over a while back. That young humorless face, not a hair out of place, beady eyes looking her over. His name tag gleamed in the yellow light. _Bennett._

Before she could say anything else he said "I need you to get out of the car. Now."

"Why?" she asked, dread making her stomach sink.

"Just do it." His voice was both matter of fact and stern.

She complied and as she was getting out of her car a vehicle passed on the road. It did not slow and in a few seconds it was gone. As soon as it was out of sight he grabbed her.

"Hey! What the hell do you think...."

Something slammed into her head, cutting off her words and she fell into blackness.

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah I had to bring David's creepy self back. Even though the story has deviated a lot from the first he's still around and still causing trouble for Sam.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **There's some explicit subject matter discussed in this chapter so be forewarned.

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

She awoke and was instantly on her feet, flinging herself forward in the dark before her mind even had a chance to register what was going on. Her feet were unsteady and she felt herself tottering forward. Too dazed to keep her balance she fell, knees hitting a cement floor.

A look at her surroundings revealed she was in a small basement, approximately the size of a jail cell. Empty shelves lined one cinderblock wall, the other walls were bare. Above her a dim light bulb burned. A short flight of steps in the corner led to a shut door.

_He hit me in the head._

Her hand went to the wound, it was encrusted with dried blood and hurt like hell but it didn't feel too serious. It had been hard enough to take her down, nothing more.

Slowly she got back up, using the wall as support. Leaning against the wall, trying to keep herself calm, Samantha thought of what had happened.

The cop.....he'd pulled her over. Hit her in the head. And now she was here. She was obviously not under arrest. Cops didn't whack people unconscious and throw them into cellars.

_Not sane ones anyway._ _He's got you here for a reason and it's not a good one._

She recalled the first time he'd pulled her over and the bizarre way he had looked her over, the same way you looked at something in the store you were thinking about buying. And then the second time. That same cop just _happened_ to be a mile from her house. Gotham was a big city, there were a lot of policeman around. Big coincidence. He'd looked at her driver's license the first time, so he had seen her address.

_Had he been waiting for me? And why? Why would he have been waiting on me? _

Answers to that question came to her and panic welled up, making her chest tighten with fear. She made her way to the stairs and peered at the door cautiously. Light shone from beneath it and she gave into the temptation. She crept up the steps and tried the doorknob. Locked tight of course.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Is anyone there? Let me out!" Not the most subtle approach but she didn't want to spend another minute here wondering what was going on. Get him down here, find out what he wanted with her. Go from there. Her imagination was working overtime and that wasn't good, not at all. If she kept it up fear would overwhelm her.

After a moment she could hear footsteps upstairs. Then a shadow underneath the door. She waited. A deadbolt clicked back and she tensed, legs poised to run if she had to. Shame there was nothing down here to use as a weapon. And her gun.....he either had it or it was still in her car.

The door opened and the light dazzled her for a second. A silhouette stood motionless, hand outstretched as if offering her help. It didn't take long for her to realize he was pointing a gun at her.

"Get back down the steps." he said in a flat voice.

She paused, desperately wanting out of here and he approached her threateningly. "I said _back down._"

She reluctantly obeyed, sidling backwards until her feet were on the floor. He followed her, gun still pointed at her. Samantha could now see him and it was the cop. He was out of uniform, wearing neat khaki pants and a button up shirt.

"Why are you making so much noise?" he asked. He was looking at her but didn't seem to see her. That struck her as strange.

_He's depersonalizing me. _she thought and the fear grew. When people did that it usually meant they planned on doing something very unpleasant. Depersonalization was the way to cope with it, to see someone as less than human so you didn't feel too bad about mutilating them or......

"I asked you a question."

She glared at him. "You knocked me over the head and locked me in a basement. I should be asking questions, not you."

"No you shouldn't." he glanced around the room and nodded. "This place isn't bad. You're not handcuffed or tied up. You should be happy. I could have done a lot worse."

"Uh...yeah. Can I ask why you're doing....this?"

_Oh but you don't really want to know the answer to that, do you? Why else would a man kidnap a woman and bring her to a place like this?_

He merely stared at her, face unreadable.

"I don't know yet." he finally said and she knew he was lying.

"Please, let me go. I won't say a word." The words poured out before she could stop herself, desperation urging her on. "I won't go to the....the police."

He didn't respond, just continued to look at her and she continued.

"My mother just died not long ago. I'm going through a rough time. Please, okay?"

_That's it, beg. Let him see you as a person. This fucker is gonna do something very very bad to you. Your pride has no place here._

He began to grin humorlessly. "You bitches are all alike, you know that? You think your lives are worth something. Know what? They're not. I know what you are....just some drug addicted bitch going to the Narrows to get her fix. You're trash."

He was coming closer to her, shaking the gun at her tauntingly. Samantha was too outraged to be frightened now. _She_ was trash? This freak, probably a rapist and killer, was telling her _she_ wasn't worth anything?

"Fuck you." she spat. "Pig."

In an instant the barrel of the gun was against her forehead. She glowered at him, furious. He seemed oddly happy now, as if he'd been wanting anger from her.

"Do you want to know what I want from you?" he asked softly. "What do you think I want? To rape you? Yes, I'm sure that's what you think. Well...let's put it this way...whatever I do to you.....you'll be way past being offended when I get around to doing what I want with you."

She swallowed nervously. "What the hell does that mean?"

"What, are you stupid? Here, I'll spell it out to you. _I'm going to kill you and then fuck your dead body._ And don't bother to beg and scream because it won't change anything. That's just the way it is, that's what I like. So get used to it."

The gun's barrel pressed harder into her forehead. Shocked, she forced herself to look at him. He was the blankest looking person she'd ever seen. Even Jack had something in his eyes and face...this person had nothing. He was a cipher, a winter's night of a human being. At that moment she knew there was nothing she could do or say to change his mind. All he wanted from her was her dead body.

_Christ, how do these things happen to me? What do I do now?_

"I don't want to die." she said evenly. She didn't know why she was saying it, this guy didn't care. "I don't deserve this."

He smiled coldly, revealing perfect white teeth. "No one wants to die. It's nothing personal. You got my interest after I pulled you over. I watched you, decided you'd be good. Nobody would miss you. You're my first one, did you know that? Congratulations." His finger squeezed the trigger and she shut her eyes.

_What an ignoble way to go. Murdered and then raped by some psycho. He's right, no one will miss me for a while. They'll find me in a ditch somewhere........_

The sound of quick footsteps descending the stairs and a breeze against her face made her open her eyes. When she saw him she thought she was dreaming. Or maybe hallucinating.

He stood between her and the man who was about to kill her. This was not the Joker she had seen days earlier. His face was devoid of make-up. It was Jack. He pushed her away without even glancing at her and bore down on the other man.

"Just what do you think you're doing, hmm?" Jack hissed. His body blocked her view of the cop but she realized he was oddly silent. In shock she started up the steps, wanting only to get away from them both but curiosity got the better of her and she glanced down.

A large knife protruded from the cop's throat. Jack still grasped the hilt and he gave it a final twist. The wet, crunching sound turned Samantha's stomach.

"Don't ev-er....._ever_....mess with what's _mine._" Jack whispered into the man's face, eyes gleaming sadistically.

Despite herself Samantha watched in horrified fascination. How Jack had gotten here, much less how he'd killed the other man so easily she didn't know and didn't really care.

Jack let the body drop to the floor and looked up at her.

"Hi there." he said, grinning. The scars were terrible, worse without the make-up. Other than that this was the man she remembered. The sight of him made her sad and happy. He'd been looking out for her, this monster, this scourge of Gotham. He saved her life and she couldn't figure out why.

"How did you know?" she asked weakly.

"I was watching you." he answered, as if it were obvious.

She felt sick. Sick from what had just happened, from withdrawals and from the knowledge that he had been following her. "I want to get out of here." she said quietly. "Please get me out of here."

* * *

**A/N: **The line "you'll be way past being offended when I get around to doing what I want with you" is loosely based on a similar line used in the movie "Freeway".

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Happy holidays and stuff! Thanks to everyone who is reading/reviewing this story!

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

"Oh my God....can you slow down?"

Jack was a bad driver. A _very_ bad driver. Not only did he have a lead foot but he couldn't keep it between the lines.

_Won't it be funny to narrowly miss being murdered by a necrophiliac cop only to die in a car wreck with the Joker? A real laugh riot. What's even funnier is the Joker is driving a Chevette. A Chevette! Probably stolen...but still....a Chevette!_

A huge black rat ran out into the road and he swerved to hit it, giggling when he succeeded.

"Ten points!" he exclaimed happily.

Feeling terrible, Samantha held her aching head and curled up in the seat. Her stomach lurched miserably at every pothole he seemed to deliberately hit.

"Ya know....._most_ people would be happy to have their lives saved." he said peevishly.

She glanced at him suspiciously. The shock of the ordeal hadn't yet worn away but she still sensed something wasn't right about the whole thing. The way it went down, the fact that he just _happened _ to be following her when the cop got her.......no something felt wrong about it all.

And what had the cop said?

_"going to the Narrows to get her fix."_

The first time he'd pulled her over she hadn't been anywhere near the Narrows. She'd been coming from Gotham's West Side. And she hadn't seen any police cars when she'd left the Narrows tonight. God knows she always watched out for them, her and Brian both. So how did he know she went to the Narrows for pills? A disturbing thought took root in her mind.

"What time is it?" she asked Jack. She couldn't help but think of him as Jack now, even though that wasn't his name. It seemed so bizarre to regard him as _Joker_.

Jack shrugged. "About eleven? Why...got somewhere you need to be?" he asked mockingly.

_When he hit me over the head it was what....about 7 or so? He knocked me out and took me to his house. Eventually I came to and.....wow Jack didn't waste any time._

"Nothing." she said. "You following me really worked out for me tonight, didn't it?"

"Mmmm-hmmmm."

"So you turned around after you saw me getting out of the car? Then what...you trailed him?"

"Yes."

They were almost to her car.

"And then what?"

"I stayed behind him. Knew he wasn't arresting you.....it was too fast. Followed him and saw him take you to a house. Watched him carry you inside." His voice had taken on an impatient tone and he jerked the little Chevette behind her car, in the same spot the cop had been earlier.

"Did you break into his house?"

"Umm...yeah. Yeah I did Sam. It took a while but I found a way in. I watched through the windows and saw him go downstairs. After he was gone I was able to sneak in. What's with all the questions.....do you think I put him up to it? Hm?"

He was looking at her with the faintest hint of amusement but Samantha could see anger boiling just beneath the surface. His was the kind of anger she didn't want to experience.

"No of course not. Why would you do that?" Actually she could think of a reason or two why he'd do such a thing but didn't voice her qualms. "I'm just impressed. And thankful." That was true.

Jack said nothing.

"You killed him so fast." she murmured. "He had a gun and you...you whipped down those stairs and took him out like he was nothing." A morbid part of her wished she'd had her eyes open at that moment so she could have seen him do it.

"He _was_ nothing babe. I've killed a lot worse than him....don't doubt that."

Samantha knew that was no boast. This man had transformed himself into an instrument of death in only a few short years. She couldn't begin to guess what he'd seen and done. Aside from the scars he looked so much like the awkward kid she'd known. The same one who'd begged her to slap him around, to hurt him. The one who would stand at her door and wait nervously, as if he expected her to tell him to go away. In a way it broke her heart but she knew this was what he had wanted. As twisted as it seemed, the man before her was what Jack had aspired to become.

_To think at one time I was the bold one, the dominate one, the one who always moved first. _

It was as if Crane's fear toxin had burned away all inhibition and stripped bare the creature she'd glimpsed behind Jack's eyes. Now there was only _this_ and it was both beautiful and terrible to behold. She held his gaze for a long time, trying to prove to him she wasn't like the others. But mostly she just wanted to look at him.

"You better go home." he said, breaking the spell.

She blinked. "Yeah. About what happened tonight..."

He raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

"The damsel in distress thing is...humiliating, so bear with me. I mean I've never been in a situation like that and I uh..."

"You're welcome." he said in mock seriousness and grinned. It was the most normal smile she'd seen from him since he'd reappeared into her life and she smiled back. "When I said I'd always be around I was......I was telling the truth. Do you believe that _now_?"

"Goodbye Jack." she told him softly, unable to say anything else.

She exited the car on shaky legs, got into her own and drove the short way home. He followed her, waited until she got into her house and then he left.

After she got a buzz and cleaned up she sat on her bed, thinking of what had occurred. She felt as though she should call the police, tell them what had happened but dismissed the idea as needless. The cop was dead, he would never hurt anyone else. Eventually his body would be found and everyone would figure he'd pissed off the wrong criminal. It wasn't as if he were someone worthy of her concern. He'd been ready to kill her and do unspeakable things to her. He could lie in that basement and rot for all she cared.

No, the best course of action was to forget this and be thankful that Jack had decided to follow her. There were some odd coincidences about the whole thing but she didn't really think Jack would have set something like that up. Even the way he was now she just couldn't see it.

Eventually she went to sleep. It wasn't a good idea, she knew she could have a concussion from the blow the cop had inflicted but she was too exhausted to care.

That night she dreamed of being a kid again, of going to the lake with her parents. She was swimming in the murky green water, the sun blazing on her wet skin.

_"Hey Dad! Watch me! I'm going to go underwater!"_

_Her dad, tall and handsome, stood on the bank with a joint in one hand and a beer in the other. He'd always appeared a cut above the people he hung around with. Even with a needle in his arm and a gun in his pocket he'd been charming. Charismatic, her mother had always said._

_"Oh Sam honey don't do that. It's too deep. Besides, there might be big huge fish under there. Sharks even!"_

_"Oh Dad, there's no sharks in lakes!" she said in exasperation._

_"Turtles then. Big ones!" He flashed her his pearly white grin and she rolled her eyes._

_"I'm going under...watch!" she shouted and let herself sink. The water closed over her, muffling all sound and light. Vaguely she could hear her dad yelling for her and she ignored him. It was pretty down here, so cool and dark and mysterious. This was a place she couldn't stay in but she longed to explore further. Underwater plants shook in the current and tiny fish darted here and there, seemingly unafraid of her. In the sand at the lake's bottom she could see something glittering. Only a bottle but down here it looked magical...extraordinary._

_Her dad kept screaming and screaming but Samantha still paid him no attention. He didn't understand, he never would. And that was okay, this beautiful place would be for her only. A place uninhabitable and dangerous that only she would understand and appreciate._

And in her sleep she smiled.

* * *

**A/N: **You know, even though I wrote the damn story I can't help but think "What the hell Sam, you dated David in Irredeemable? He's such a creep!"

It's fun changing stuff around and reintroducing characters that behave differently all due to one person accepting a ride. Weird I know.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

12/23/08

Sorry for the fake update but I wanted to let you all know that I *may* have to suspend this story and the others soon. Some of you that I chat with know that my mother has been in the hospital. Well I found out this morning she more than likely has Lou Gehrig's disease (also known as ALS) and they're sending her to a rehabilitation center an hour away from where we live. I'm not sure what's going to happen.

So anyway if I don't update or vanish for long periods of time that is why. It won't be because I've just abandoned the stories. Actually I may write more (it makes me feel better when I do. Working on next chapter as I wait to see what's going to happen next) so this may all be a moot point.

And if this is kinda squirrely and rambling I'm sorry. Kind of in shock right now and pretty frightened for her.

Hope the holidays are great for all of you.

Jennifer


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Thanks for all your nice messages and emails. That means a lot to me. As I've said a zillion times before you all are the best.

A little bit of smut in this chapter. Hurray! LOL.

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Samantha spent the next few days in a daze. Sometimes she wondered if the whole thing had been a dream but the news stories on the murdered cop told her otherwise. Everyone figured his death was due to the mob or someone he'd once arrested, just as she'd figured. She hoped there was no way she could be traced to his house, that nothing of hers had been left at the scene. Of course she knew better but it was hard to keep the paranoia at bay.

Jack hadn't been around since that night but she often got a peculiar feeling, as if eyes were on her. A couple of times she'd even went out on her porch and said loudly "If you're around you might as well get your ass over here." but she never got a response, only mocking silence. She could picture him out there in the darkness surrounding her house, smirking.

And then one night she was nodding off in her living room when a light tapping at the window nearest her startled her awake. A quick glance revealed it was him, the ghostly face peering in at her unmistakeable.

"Jesus Christ!" she yelled through the glass. "I have a door for a reason!"

He vanished and she stomped to the door, throwing it open.

"Peeking in through my windows? How original." she remarked when she saw him on the porch.

He slipped past her into the house.

"Original? No I guess not. But what's the fun in coming to your door? You probably wouldn't answer it anyway."

She shut the door, locking it tightly, and turned to face him. The last time she'd seen him he'd been without make-up but tonight he was in his full Joker regalia. As disconcerting as his painted visage was she had to admit she liked the long wool coat and leather gloves.

"Seen the news?" he asked before she could say anything.

She winced. "Yeah. They're making a pretty big deal about the cop aren't they?"

He gave a dismissive snort. "Of course. He's a _cop_. If it were anyone else they wouldn't bat an eye. I have to wonder what kind of materials they found in his house though."

"Materials? Of the perverted sort?"

"Mmm-hmm. You know he had to have them. I bet he had some, uh, real _interesting _things_. _Think he was a blow up doll kinda guy?Notice they haven't said a thing on the news about it."

"Yeah. No need to let everyone know that one of Gotham's finest liked his girls on the cooler side." She paused. "I guess you heard what he said to me before you came down the stairs."

"Um yeah. I did." he said simply and she felt humiliation wash over her. He'd heard the cop tell her he was going to kill her and screw her. Thinking of it sickened her and knowing Jack had heard it sickened her more for reasons she didn't understand.

"Ya still think I got him to come after you?"

"No." she answered truthfully and he nodded, a lock of green tinged hair falling over his forehead. She had a sudden urge to push it away but stopped herself.

"Do you want to sit down?" she asked, feeling foolish. Things had changed so much...everything she said to him felt stupid and wrong. Asking the Joker if he wanted to have a seat in your living room? It seemed so silly and she couldn't stop a bemused grin from crossing her face.

He strode over to her couch and flopped down, eyeing her carefully.

"So....uh...so what's going on?" she asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

He didn't answer. His tongue rolled around in his cheek as he regarded her, his expression unreadable. After a moment he seemed to come to a silent decision.

"You don't want me here...do you Sam? You can't get past this. Can't reconcile yourself with who I am now. Don't bother to de-ny it cause I can tell." He got up from the couch and took a couple of steps towards her, shoulders hunched.

He was wrong of course and she felt a moment's elation because he couldn't read her, not like he could everyone else. If he could see the conflicting emotions in her he didn't let on. He was correct about her being unable to deal with what he had become but the truth was she wanted him here. For the past few days all she'd been able to think about was what they used to do together years ago and what it would be like now.

Samantha took a deep breath and plunged. _I have to do this. If I don't I'll regret it. Damn the consequences. _Slowly she began to undress, noting the rare look of surprise on his face as she did so. Her shirt came off, then her pajama bottoms, then her underwear.

_If he laughs and walks away I'll kill him. _she thought. It would be like him to do that. But he stood there, silent, eyes growing darker as he stared at her naked body. How many women had done this? she wondered. Stripped nude before him, with no fear, no guile, no aspirations of being a groupie to Gotham's deadliest man?

"Don't go." she told him. There was no pleading in her voice, only a command. He'd always responded to her commands with enthusiasm.

A dangerous smile came across his face but she could see how his breath had quickened, could see the unconscious clenching of his hands. She smiled back, feeling more confident now. A lot of things had changed...but not _this._

"C'mere." he snarled and in the blink of an eye he had her. Pressed against him she shut her eyes. Now there was only touch and sound and smell. Leather and wool sliding over her bare skin. The sound of his harsh breathing in her ears. The scent of gasoline, gun oil and smoke, lingering evidence of whatever destruction he'd wrought earlier that day.

His hands gripped her forearms and she felt herself being moved. He was taking her to the couch. He half lowered, half dropped her on it and still she kept her eyes shut. She didn't think she could look at him and go through with it. Not right now anyway.

He straddled her and then there was silence. His hands were no longer on her and she felt a moment's trepidation.

"Open your eyes." he finally said. "Look at me Sam."

She did so, her gaze meeting his.

"Don't shut your eyes again." he told her coldly. "I want you to see me. No hiding."

She nodded slowly and he gave her a strange little half smile. He held his hands up for her to see then began to slide his gloves off. She'd forgotten how nice his hands were, deceptively slender yet powerful. His nails were ragged and unkempt but his fingers were long and dextrous.

"I want to feel you." he explained in a low voice.

And then he was falling over her, hands running over her body in long strokes. His mouth found one of her nipples while his fingers worked on the other one, pinching lightly. His teeth raked over her soft skin and she moaned. He stopped at the sound, moving up, his scarred lips closing over hers, tongue sliding into her mouth sinuously. She could feel the heat of his body through his clothes and pressed herself upwards. In response he ground himself into her, making sure she could feel how hard he was.

Samantha was working her hands down, determined to get to his zipper when he pulled away abruptly.

"Gonna have to wait for that Sam." he sneered and she sighed in frustration. All notion of dignity was gone, she wanted him inside her. Of course he knew this, which only made him want to draw it out.

"Just lie there and be patient." he said. "I've been patient for a _long_ time, you can be too."

"Okay." she answered. She wasn't going to beg for it.

Giving her lips one last lick he moved down her body. He moved her legs apart and once she felt his hot breath on her she tensed, anticipating what was to come. His tongue slid over her clit and he eased a finger inside of her. Biting back her cries she gripped his hair, desperately wanting him to go faster. He didn't cooperate, instead going slowly, teasing her.

"Oh _please_." she whispered before she could stop herself. "Oh God please."

His only response was muffled laughter but he moved his tongue and finger a bit faster, just enough to bring her to the edge. And then he stopped, leaving her half crazed and still holding his hair tightly.

He straightened up, hovering over her. "I'm not gonna lie to you Sam." he told her. "This is gonna be fast."

She saw him fumbling with the button of his pants, heard the sound of his zipper and reached out for him again. He absently slapped her hand away and ran the head over her wetness.

"Do it." she gasped. "Put it in. Doitdoitdoit." She'd reached the point where nothing mattered except for having him inside of her. It was the closest to insanity she'd ever felt, a fierce craving that could only be fixed by him. He'd teased her with that in the past, knowing he could get her to that point and watch her go crazy. Her only consolation was knowing he was almost to that point himself. He was just enjoying his control over her before he too lost it.

"It's gonna be fast this time." he continued, sliding himself inside her. "I just want to come right now." He was all the way inside her, not moving. "But after this...I'm gonna bend you over this couch and you're gonna scream. I'm gonna fuck you til you, ah, _beg_ for me to stop."

Samantha only half heard him. She moved her body against him, trying to make him start. "Shut up and fuck me _now_." she hissed. "Please fuck me. Please."

Finally he obliged, having finally reached the breaking point himself. He pounded into her mercilessly, not slowing or stopping. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clutching at his clothed body, one hand rubbing herself until she came. She tried to stifle her scream by burying her face into his neck but it was still loud. The sound of her in ecstasy brought him over the edge and he came too, clamping his hands tight enough on her arms to leave bruises. After a few more savage thrusts he stopped, panting into her hair.

They lay like that for a long time, saying nothing. Samantha listened as her heart finally slowed, as the frenzied rush of blood in her ears finally subsided.

When she was finally calm she looked over at him. He was still, eyes shut but not asleep. His hands were still grasping her upper arms but more gently now.

"You're never gonna get rid of me...now." he growled, eyes still shut.

_What have I done?_ she thought. W_hat do I do now? And if this kind of thing happens too much more he'll never get rid of me either._

**---------------**

**A/N: **Sam just got owned by her hormones. Good job Sam!


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Originally this story was only gonna go for a few chapters and now I have no idea when and where I'll end it. I started to enjoy writing it so much that I didn't want to stop.

Thanks for your reviews and messages!

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE**

True to his word he had her over the couch as soon as they'd rested up. This time it took much longer and Samantha, who usually liked it fast and furious, didn't mind at all. He hadn't forgotten how she liked it and seemed pleased at the reaction he got from her. She'd had every intention of playing it cool. Since the first moment she'd seen him and realized who he was she'd told herself she could handle this, that she could keep her emotions in check. There would be no repeat of eight years ago.

And now...now she realized that might not be possible. The chemistry they'd once shared had grown, turned into something she couldn't regulate. He was still Jack in small ways, but a twisted version of him, self assured and cunning where he used to be shy and earnest. And he knew her too well.

He was whispering something , nonsense laced with obscenities, his voice guttural and urgent. It didn't seem like he could maintain his composure any better than she could.

He shifted his full weight on her, laying on her, his thrusts getting rougher and more frenzied. Samantha felt a tear slide down her face. The sheer pleasure combined with the tiniest bit of pain, the feeling of giving herself over to him...it was too much.. She was about to come again and again she couldn't stop her cries. The pressure built up in her and she let it overcome her. He pulled her face to the side, covering her mouth with his own as they both came.

Some things never changed, whatever was between them certainly hadn't. If anything it had grown. But she was determined not to let him get to her again. The love she had felt for Jack would not come into play this time, she'd make sure of it. She would gladly sleep with him and let him into her home but her defenses would always be up.

_No more weakness._

* * *

She offered him the leftovers in her refrigerator and watched him wolf the food down. He'd always eaten like he was starving and she again wondered just how often he was able to get a meal.

They were sitting on the couch, her on one end, him on the other. Sex hadn't killed the awkwardness between them. Samantha wondered if anything would manage to do that.

"There's more if you want it." she said when he was finished.

"I won't eat all your food." he responded, setting the plate on her coffee table.

"If I didn't want you to eat it I wouldn't have offered."

He glanced over at her. "So does this mean ya don't hate me now?"

"I never hated you Jack. Never."

He regarded her curiously. "That's surprising. Really it is. Cause if someone had done that to _me_ I would've hated 'em. And don't, ah, call me _that_."

She pulled her robe closer around her and shrugged. "Well that's you. And think, if I hated you would I have taken my clothes off and let you screw me?"

He licked his lips as he thought about it, a faraway look in his eyes. "Guess you're right. Oh and about that...that was _incredible_. I wanted that for so long and it was better than I could have, um, imagined."

She nodded. "Yeah that was intense. Even more than it used to be."

His eyes fixed on her, completely serious. Suddenly he was Jack again and the change made her shiver.

"I'm glad I came back." he said.

For a moment she merely stared at him, remembering him saying those same words years ago.

"So am I." she whispered and smiled sadly.

And just like that he leaned back on the couch, shutting his eyes. After a little while he was fast asleep. Samantha stared at him in astonishment. She'd fully expected him to leave, not conk out on her couch.

She observed him for a little while and when the rise and fall of his chest slowed she padded into her room.

* * *

Her mind was too full of jumbled thoughts to allow her to sleep but she was too exhausted to do anything but lie there. She wanted to take a shower, his makeup was smeared over her body, but couldn't muster the energy to do it.

_You can shower in the morning. Just go to sleep._

But he was still in her living room, on her couch. The thought bothered her and she wasn't sure why. Maybe because she didn't trust him. Maybe because she wanted him in bed with her. That last thought shamed her but she knew it was true.

_The nights of movies in your bed are long gone Sam. No more watching him eat all your pizza and going to the bookstore together. No more falling asleep next to him while he reads. Don't be a fool._

She sighed and rolled over on her side. Why couldn't she just be happy that he was alive? That he had eventually come back?

_Because he came back a monster and a killer. Don't you think it would have been better off for everyone if he _had_ bled to death in that ditch? Hell how long do you think he'll last like this? He won't be around much longer, pretty soon he will be dead or locked up and _then_ how will you feel?_

_No. No. Stop it. That's heartless and untrue._

Her door creaked open and she immediately squinted her eyes, leaving them open just enough to see what was going on. He stood there staring at her, head cocked in that odd way of his. She considered saying something to him but decided not to.

A few minutes went by and he sat down in a chair she had in the corner of her room. As she watched he leaned his head back, just as he had done on the couch. Within a few minutes his breathing became slow and steady. He had fallen asleep.

Samantha observed him. So close and at the same time miles away. She wondered if things would ever change between them and came to the conclusion they probably wouldn't. Nothing good could come of this and she had the feeling it wouldn't end well. And it _would _end. To think otherwise was naive. But she still didn't want to let go.

Eventually she too fell asleep.

* * *

She awoke early. Much too early. The sun had not yet risen and the gray light of a rainy morning filtered through her blinds. To her surprise Jack was still sitting in the chair.. As her eyes adjusted she saw that he was awake, elbow propped on the chair's arm, chin in his hand. Watching her.

"Morning." she said, acting as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

"Umm-hmm." he muttered, a mysterious little smile on his face. "Did you know that you snore?"

"I know. I've woke myself up from it before."

"It wasn't that loud. Actually it was kinda...._dainty._ For snoring anyway."

She laughed and sat up, stretching langorously. Her whole body was sore and she winced when the joints in her legs popped.

"I'm gonna get some coffee going and take a shower." she told him, sliding out of bed. "Don't go anywhere. We need to talk."

He didn't respond but arched an eyebrow in interest.

* * *

When she had showered and dressed she went into the kitchen and got a cup of coffee. Presently Jack wandered in and sat down across from her. He had that amused look on his face, as if he already knew what she was going to say.

_We'll just see about that won't we?_

"Ok." she began. "Where to start. Well, I guess I'll clear some things up right now while I have the chance." She looked at him pointedly, making sure he was paying attention and he nodded for her to continue.

"I didn't do that last night because you saved me from that creep. It probably looked like that but I don't do gratitude fucks. I am thankful you were around, don't get me wrong. But like I said, the damsel in distress thing was embarrassing. I didn't like the way it made me feel." She was careful to keep her tone light and affable, to keep any bitchy edge out of it.

He spread his hands innocently. "I didn't think that was a, um, a gratitude fuck. You were way too enthusiastic."

_Yeah he's having a field day with this._

"Another thing.....I just want to clear this up Jack...."

"_Stop_ calling me that."

"Whatever. I heard you tell the cop not to mess with what's yours. I'm _not_ yours. If you want an item go to Wal-Mart and buy something. Just because I like certain things in bed doesn't mean I actually want to be someone's property. Some girls...they love it. They want to be some guy's dog. There's plenty of them I'm sure that would be more than happy for you to lead them around on a leash, slap them around and make them sleep on the porch. I'm not one of them. What happens when we screw has no bearing on when we're not screwing...ya know?"

_Mind your tone of voice Sam. Keep it conversational. Don't get too comfortable with him._

He tilted back in his chair, that infuriating grin still pasted onto his face. Most of his makeup was gone and Samantha couldn't help but marvel at how young he looked. When he realized she was waiting for him to say something he prompted her to go on with a flourish of his hand.

"Right then...what else. Oh....I don't want to get involved in whatever things you're doing. I'll not help you, aid you, or encourage you in any way. I don't agree with what you're doing. If you want a helper go find the dog girl I mentioned earlier. And ummm...I think that's it. All I can think of at the moment anyway."

He nodded and to her annoyance he was barely able to contain his mirth. "Ah...._Sam_ if I wanted a helper you'd be the _last_ person I'd come to. You're too stubborn. Not to mention I respect you. You're not a follower. The people that help me." He shook his hand dismissivley. "_Followers._ They're just fodder, y'know what I mean?"

He leaned towards her, biting the inside of his lip. "And I know I don't own you. You'd never stand for that...would you? No, no, no of course not. But you do occupy a space in here." He pointed a finger at his head. "Which is close enough for me. I don't want groveling or whining or clinging. No _fun_ in that is there? Ya see I'm a guy who likes challenges. I like 'em a lot. And you...." he looked her over slyly. "_You_ are a challenge."

His hand shot out, closing over her wrist. "Why do you think I came back Sam? Hm? You assume I want all these..._ridiculous_ things when you should know better. I wanted to know if you were the same. And you _are_."

"No, not really." she murmured, looking away from him.

He grasped her chin roughly and turned her to face him again. "Yeah you are. You still act like you own the fucking world, even though you don't want it, you're still beautiful and you still don't judge. Not even me. Things are different now Sam but I haven't forgotten anything. Not one thing."

He released her. "And why were you telling me all those things? Is that your way of saying you want me to come around? Hm?"

"Yeah. Pretty much." she answered. "Sounds kind of stupid in retrospect. I still mean them though. See...despite what you are now I still...well I still...." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Ya still want me around. Right?"

"Yes. I just needed to be sure you weren't going to expect things from me."

"And if I had?"

She smiled wickedly. "I would have told you to hit the fuckin' road."

He dissolved into a fit of delighted giggles. "You never disappoint Sam. Did you know that? You're a real...ballbuster when you want to be."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I try my best."

* * *

**A/N: **So Sam has decided to let him come around but to save face she has to have a few guidelines. Whether he follows them or not is another story. Samantha likes having control over her life and isn't keen on whatever drama the Joker might bring. She knows the whole thing is a bad idea but every time she sees a flash of Jack underneath it all she can't help herself. I suppose the Joker is not as bad in this story as in my others but I feel like I've paid my dues by writing him as a bit of a bastard in my earlier stuff. Time for something new. I'm trying to not get him too OOC but I'm not nearly as worried about it as I was earlier on in the story.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **Two updates in one day. Don't know what's got into me.

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

Samantha was mildly surprised when Jack told her he needed to stay at her house until it got dark. Turned out he'd parked his car off the side of the road about a mile away before he walked to her place the night before.

"If I'm gonna get pinched it'll be doing something a little more exciting than walking on the side of the road." he'd informed her.

They were sitting in the kitchen. Samantha working on another cup of coffee, Jack pilfering the contents of her cabinets.

"Fine." she responded. "Do whatever you need to do to amuse yourself...non-destructive that is. I'm gonna get high and watch tv. The Dog Whisperer is coming on."

He frowned. "Um...The Dog Whisperer? You don't even like dogs."

She grinned. "No but I've found the same things you use to let a dog know who is boss work on people too."

"You're telling me your confidence comes from a show about _dogs_?" He tore his attention away from the cupboard and looked over his shoulder at her in disbelief.

"Nah. I've always been like this. The show just helped me hone it. You know....calm assertive energy!" With that she went into the living room. He looked after her for a second then shook his head and went back to his search for food.

As she watched tv Samantha realized she bordered on being a control freak. Not with other people though, only her own life. She preferred things stable, disliked change. Memories of the police bursting into her house, the very house she lived in now, came into her mind. They were coming for her parents. Mom screaming. Dad scrambling to flush his stash down the toilet. Samantha standing there dumbfounded as uniformed men stomped through the house with their snarling German Shepherd dogs. Her dad had sold to a particularly beautiful young woman who had turned out to be an undercover officer. Samantha had been seven at the time.

She had to live with her grandparents after that, while her parents went to trial and spent some time in the county jail. She'd missed them but even at that young age she understood that was what happened sometimes. She knew they'd eventually get out and they'd all be together again. No harm no foul. And that had been her childhood. Chaotic, never knowing what the next day would bring. Had she been older she would have found much more to worry about but at the age of seven she didn't know about the mob, about how they sometimes killed their own friends merely for getting arrested. She didn't understand the stuff she'd caught her mom and dad sticking into their arms could kill you. Her age saved her a lot of heartache.

Her thoughts inevitably went to her father. She often wondered where he was. How could you just leave your only child, your daughter who worshipped you, and just cut ties? But that was her dad. All smooth charm on the outside, cold and self serving on the inside. He'd been lazy and spectacularly handsome, women loved him and he used it for all it could get him. That had caused many shrieking arguments between her mother and him.

One day, a while after he'd left, her mother had looked at her appraisingly and said "You know Samantha...you're _exactly_ like your father." She hadn't meant it in a good way either. They'd been in an argument and her mother had used the most effective put-down she could think of.

She remembered feeling insulted and flattered at that. Mostly insulted though. True she looked like her dad, she had his height and rogueish charm. Her green eyes and dark blond hair were courtesy of him. People even said she had his good looks. But the rest...she wanted no part of that. She didn't want to be a manipulator and a sociopath. Samantha had never quite forgiven her mother for that comment.

"Learned any good tricks on how to use a leash?"

Jack's sarcastic voice broke into her thoughts and she looked over at him. His untidy hair was falling over his forehead, his eyes looking her over sardonically.

"No but I got a great tip on how to dominate an aggressive male." she quipped, grateful for the interruption.

He sat down on the arm of the couch. "Hmm well that might come in handy."

"Depends."

"On?" he tilted his head to the side, already knowing what she'd say but still wanting to hear it.

"Depends on if the 'aggressive male' is willing to be dominated."

"Hmm." he cracked his knuckles, eyes narrowed.

She grinned at him. "You're probably not into that anymore are you? You probably like to be boss at all times, am I right?"

He didn't answer. A cold gleam came into his eyes and she could practically hear his thoughts whirring along. At one time he'd begged her to hurt him, to do things she hadn't wanted to do. She found it hard to believe he'd still want that.

"Pain." he said. "Pain is, um, orgasmic when you do it right. There's varying degrees of it and each one is as good as...pleasure. But it's an ...acquired taste. Pain has its own _unique_ rewards. Your body tries to rebel against it, to tell you that it's bad. But you feel everything. You feel _heightened, alive. Aware._" One gloved hand unconsciously stroked the fabric of the couch as he spoke.

Samantha stared at him, unsure of what to say. Obviously she was wrong about him not wanting to be hurt. He was practically drooling at the thought of it.

_The ways he wanted you to hurt him were harsh enough back then. What the hell would he want now? This is a guy who ripped his own face open for Christ's sake._

"I'm not sure I'm up to that Jac...err...Joker."

He sighed in exasperation. "I told ya to stop calling me that."

"What, I can't call you Jack _or_ Joker? What am I supposed to call you then? I don't know your real name." At this point she doubted _he _even knew his real name.

"Don't call me anything."

"Well what am I supposed to scream out when I'm coming?"

He smiled evilly. "Just scream. No words. And about you not being up to that....you will be someday."

She wasn't sure about that but didn't voice her reservations.

"You'll be ready someday and you'll be wonderful at it Sam. You're a natural at it, I can already tell." He was intent on the subject now, face almost dreamy as he talked about it. "You're the only woman I'd let hurt me like _that._ Oh I don't mind if they slap me or knee me. Had that happen plenty of times. That Dawes woman...now she could hit hard. No I'm talking about a different kind of hurting."

_What have I gotten myself into? _she thought in dismay.

"What I want I need someone I can _trust_...y'know? I can trust you can't I Sam?"

_I think what he means is don't tie my ass up and then call the cops. _She almost laughed at the thought but managed to stop herself.

"Yes. You can. At the risk of sounding like an idiot I'm your friend."

He let out an odd little snicker at that. "Friend." he repeated, as if trying the word out. "If that's what you want to call it go ahead."

She shrugged. "All I'm saying is yeah you can trust me. I have no intention of betraying you or doing anything bad to you as long as keep your end of the bargain. That's all I ask."

"Why don't you hate me Sam?" he asked, looking genuinely bewildered.

_Because I can't set my feelings for you aside that easily. Because the more I look at you the more I realize you're beautiful in the same way a tornado can be beautiful, despite the destruction it brings. Because I'm probably the only person in Gotham who knows who you are._

But she couldn't tell him any of those things.

"I don't know." she answered softly.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **Sorry I've not updated in so long. My internet got shut off and I finally got it back on. No way in hell was I going to miss the last season of Battlestar Galactica. Please tell me someone watches it, I live for that show. Last night's episode was INSANE.

So anyway I'd planned on writing while I was internetless and got into "The Jungle" by Upton Sinclair (I don't think I'll ever complain about my job or eat potted meat ever again, haha) and just couldn't put it down to write. Incredible book.

Okay wow, I'm rambling. Hope everyone has been well!

**CHAPTER TWENTY THREE**

"Don't worry about going to the Narrows anymore."

Night had fallen and he was getting ready to leave.

"Why?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"Nothing yet. But my men are, ah, untrustworthy. One of them might get....ideas." He looked to the side, not meeting her gaze, as if the thought of them trying something irked him. Of course it just wouldn't do for her to see that it bothered him. Bad for his image.

"And I'll give them a hole somewhere in their body to remember me by. I've dealt with guys like those my entire life, I know them better than they know themselves. Don't cheapen me by trying to protect me."

He reclined against the doorframe, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh that's right. Sam is a _feminist._ "

She shrugged. "Maybe not the ideal model of one But don't worry...that stuff people say about feminists hating men and sex? _Totally_ a lie. As you should well know."

"Mmm-hmm. But anyway....I don't want you going around there. Whatever you want I can bring to you."

She paused. It sounded good, not having to leave her house, not taking huge risks whenever she wanted to score. Still the idea rankled her.

"Brian." she said. "We help each other out. If I agree to that he'll be on his own. He doesn't have a car."

He snorted derisively. "So? He can fend for himself. Do ya think if the tables were turned he'd think of you?"

"Maybe, maybe not. But I don't think that way. I _can't_ think that way. Brian and his wife are good friends of mine and I'm not gonna....."

"Fine...fine." he huffed impatiently. "So much for drug users having no values. Listen...I won't be around there much longer. Gonna have to start moving around more. Never stay in the same place for too long...ya know?"

"Think they're getting an idea where you're at?"

He hesitated for a second, sucking on his bottom lip noisily. "Something like that. Of course they'd suspect I'd be in the Narrows. For a long time I had 'em thinking I was in New York." He chuckled darkly, amused at his own cleverness. "But...._but_...someone's been squealing. Has to be cause all of a sudden there's been cops and some rather, um, _suspicious_ characters roaming around. Asking questions. Watching. That sort of thing. So don't count on me being in the Narrows if you come around to buy your goodies."

"Okay." she answered. "I've been warned. Duly noted."

His eyes narrowed and she could tell that he was irritated with her. "Ya can't just listen can ya Sam? Look, its not just my men I'm talking about. I'm also talking about if the cops get you and Brian. I don't think you'll say anything but Brian...well...he's got reason to not like me much. He'll talk. Oh he will. He'll talk."

"No I don't think he will. Thing is, no he doesn't care for you much...you stuck a knife to his throat, what do you expect? He's also scared shitless of you and what would happen to him if he ratted you out. But I'll talk to him, get a feel for what he might do. Hell, I probably won't even bring him, I'll make him wait somewhere. You know how I grew up, I've told you. I'm not some dumb kid trying to play badass. I know what can happen."

He didn't say anything for nearly half a minute. Those seconds felt like thirty minutes to Samantha. The whole time his speculative gaze picked her apart, made her feel like a bug under a microscope. She kept her eyes on his though, never wavering. She understood the key to being safe around him was to maintain his respect, to show him she was not going to grovel or cater to him. Even that might not be enough. He had known her, she had made some sort of connection with him all those years ago and it had made an impression on him. If it hadn't been for that she'd be just another person to him.

_What had that meant to you Jack? You came back so surely it meant something...but what? _

Boredom. A bizarre form of comfort. Curiosity. Something. Not love. She'd come to the conclusion he was incapable of love, at least in the traditional sense of the word. She had loved him (and to her growing dismay she was starting to think she still did) but he had never loved her. He'd probably never loved anyone. With some sadness she knew that the feelings she had for him would die out. Samantha did not do the unrequited thing. If someone didn't share her feelings she merely grew tired of them and cast them aside. Would he be any different?

As if he knew what she were thinking he finally spoke.

"Still the same aren't ya Sam? And that's why I came back. You just _accept_ me, you don't judge, you don't pry or try to change me. Even though you know what I am. If you knew all the things I've done, the people I've killed you might not...."

She shook her head and held her hand out, trying to cut him off. "You don't need to tell me. I....I don't want to know."

"Oh but you _do_." he smirked. "You just want to find out for yourself, right? Soon as I'm out of here you're gonna start _digging_." He motioned to the computer sitting in the corner of her living room. "You're gonna get on there and try to find out what I've been up to."

If Samantha believed in such things she'd have sworn he was a mind reader.

"I was thinking of it." she shrugged.

"Hmm. Well.....whatever you read about me remember the past few days. Remember the cop and what would have happened to you if I hadn't, um, been around."

And before she could respond he had slipped out the door into the night.

----------------------------------

She sat down at her computer. Her ignorance of him had begun to bother her. She knew about the ferries and the hospital, all the big stuff that had been blared across the news constantly. But what else had happened? So much had been made of the Joker that the newscaster's concerned drone had transformed into background noise, easily ignored.

Especially if you were high most of the time.

A few years ago the Joker's exploits would have interested her but lately getting a buzz trumped Gotham's goings on. The world would go on without her, things would happen and no amount of keeping up with current events would change that. Apathy and disinterest had gotten to her.

_And something tells me I'm about to pay a price for not paying attention. Something tells me I'm about to find things out that aren't going to be very pleasant._

She brought up the url to Gotham's biggest newspaper and typed a name into the **SEARCH** field. It was a name she'd heard at work, usually in conjunction with horrified whispers.

_Did you see......_

_You hear about that?_

_That poor guy. Crazy, sick bastard. Can you imagine what he did to him?_

Swallowing hard she stared at the name, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Brian Douglas.

-------------------

**A/N: **This one was kind of short but I'd reached a good stopping point. Sam is about to find out about Brian Douglas (one of the more disturbing parts of the Joker saga, which is why I always mention it in my stories) and then she'll have to come to terms with it, along with a few other things. She's adamant about not getting involved in things but she will get pulled in nonetheless and in a particularly cruel way. That's the plan anyway, haha.

How cool was it that Heath won a Golden Globe for his role in the Dark Knight? I suppose it seems dumb to be happy about it but it was nice to see he's getting the recognition he deserves.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: **A fast one. I like the fast ones.

**CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR**

_"Tell them your name."_

She had found the video. She wasn't sure which was worse, the man's pitiful whimpering or the Joker's (it was very hard to think of him as Jack right now) delighted giggling.

This was her third time watching it. Each time her pity for Brian Douglas grew. He looked as if he'd been roughed up before the tape had even started rolling, he bore the cowed and terrified look of a beaten dog. Or perhaps it was because he knew what was going to happen to him.

_"Then why do you dress up like him?" _

The undercurrent of rage in the Joker's voice made her shiver. He taunted the frightened man, lightly slapping his face. Laughing as if at a joke only he understood.

She looked at his gloved hands on the man's face, pulling his head back.

_Those very same gloves...those very same hands touched me. And I liked it. I let him do it and I liked it._

"_**LOOK AT ME."**_

She jumped at the sound of his voice each and every time. For a split second it made her want to run, to get away from the computer. It was a terrible sound, not something you expected to come from a fellow human being.

Swearing under her breath she paused the video and lit another cigarette.

---------

Over the course of a few hours she found out more than she'd ever wanted to know about the Joker. From the robberies that heralded his arrival to the siege at the Prewitt building to his "capture" at the hands of Batman. And then his escape as a SWAT team had attempted to transport him to the county jail. He had evidently been anticipating this and had men waiting. The ensuing slaughter was still a source of outrage in Gotham. Almost every SWAT man and cop involved had died and it had given the Joker an almost boogeyman reputation. Two escapes from the Gotham authorities in one night.

And after that.....nothing. He had dropped out of sight just as the Batman had. Behavioral scientists from the FBI gave interviews saying he had to have moved to a different locale. There was just _no way_ a man like the Joker could lay low. No, he was addicted to the attention, to the fear. Recent sightings and activities in New York meant that he was probably there. Gotham was safe for the time being. Safe from the Joker anyway. They were almost _sure_ of it.

Samantha had to laugh. How he had snowed so many people. She knew that when Batman surfaced so would the Joker. Batman was too amusing for the Joker to just leave behind. She could see that plainly and couldn't understand why no one else could. Plus he had a grudge against Gotham. She thought hard to when she'd first met him, trying to find a clue, anything to explain why he did the things he did. Nothing. Jack had never said a thing about hating Gotham. Hell, he'd hardly said anything about his past.

She stared at the computer screen. It was paused on Brian Douglas's face, at the moment after the Joker had told him to look at him. He looked petrified and somehow resigned. She thought of how he'd been found and what had been done to him and again was filled with pity. In the midst of that anger flashed like lightning. Anger at herself mostly. Jack was what he was. Being angry at him or hating him for what he'd done was as useful as hating a snake because it ate bunny rabbits. In short it was foolish. She, on the other hand, should have known better.

_He makes you weak Sam and he will be your downfall._

She began to wonder if she were a part of his plans. She'd told him she wanted no part of his doings but did that mean anything?

_Oh sure, he'll listen to you. Right.....of course he will. Better watch your step. Because if he's using you your peaceful little life will go straight to hell. You'll wind up in jail...or Arkham. Oh....or dead. Won't that be a barrel of fun?_

"Sonofabitch." she whispered to herself. "You've really gotten yourself into it now. Why didn't you do this _before_ you had sex with him?"

_I got carried away. I didn't want to know the specifics because I wanted him, okay? So we've got to put our big girl panties on and deal with it. Now leave me alone for Christ's sake._

She lit another cigarette.

----------------------------------------------

She carried her new knowledge to work the next day, chewing on it, turning it over and over in her mind. It was hard to concentrate on the customers on the phone, damn near impossible to act enthused about their decision to buy a Diamonique tennis bracelet. Samantha found that it did make the day go by faster, so that was something.

Later that day she went home, head still filled with images of Brian Douglas and dead SWAT men and blown-up buildings. To drive the images away she did more pills than normal and then cursed herself for that.

The worst thing of all was the hope that he'd come back. It was tucked in the furthest corner of her mind but it was there, impossible to ignore. Despite the monstrous things he'd done and would most assuredly do again she wanted him to return. She despised herself for that, for the flimsiness of her outrage.

The night crept along and he didn't return. Samantha drugged herself into a stupor and curled up on the couch. Her only consolation was that she felt guilt, so she was not like him. She mourned the people he had killed in an irresponsible and ineffectual way but she still mourned. Had Jack ever mourned anything? His lost humanity? Had he ever laid awake at night and wondered _why_ he did the things he did?

"Doubt it." she muttered and fell into a black dreamless sleep.

------------------------

**A/N: **Things will start picking up a bit now. I still don't see the end in sight anytime real soon. Funny how the story I'd intended to be really short will end up being the longest. A good portion is already planned out in my head, even the ending. Of course I may change it but so far I'm pretty satisfied how things are going.

And as for Sam.....I think some people may think "How can a drug user with criminals for parents be so upset over what the Joker's done?" My answer is that despite her drug usage she's tried to be a decent person leading a semi-legitimate life. She avoided the mob ties and dealing her family had gotten into. All she'd ever wanted was to have a quiet, noneventful life and now she's into this mess. She's not a terrible person or a badass by any means. Her problems with pills stem from the fact she likes to feel good and to escape certain things from her past.

I once got bitched out by someone who said a mass murderer or cutter would be more "endearing" than an addict to which I have to respond with "This is a Joker fic and she isn't meant to be endearing. She's a regular flawed human being like everyone else you will meet in your lifetime. Stop seeing everything in black and white terms. Life isn't an After School Special, geez."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: **Italics section is a dream.

**CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE**

_Alone and in the GCPD. They had put her in an empty office and left her. It was summertime but the air conditioner was running full tilt and she was wearing shorts. Samantha rubbed her legs to get some warmth to them but the goosebumps stayed._

_Outside the office men went to and fro, occasionally glancing in at her. That was good, they hadn't forgotten about her at least._

_She tilted back in the chair, drumming her fingers on the desk. They'd come for her parents earlier that evening and now she was here. At first she'd wondered if they might put her in jail too, or maybe in a foster home but she'd heard the cops say they would call her granparents._

_And now here she sat. Waiting. She hated to wait. So boring._

_A man entered the room carrying a blanket and a paper bag. He smiled at her and sat down in the chair across from her._

_"Yoo looked cold so I brought you a blanket." he said. "And some food. Are you hungry? I hope you like peanut butter and jelly."_

_Samantha eyed him suspiciously, not answering. Her mom and dad had always warned her to watch out for cops. They'd ask her questions, try to get her to say things that could get them all in trouble. She was hungry though and peanut butter and jelly was one of her favorites._

_The man nodded at her, as if he understood, and handed her the blanket and bag. She took it with no comment. He looked friendly enough. Samantha was seven and had little concept of age but he looked to be in his mid to late twenties. _

_"If you need anything else let one of us know." he said, standing up. "Your grandparents will be here to get you soon."_

_For a long moment she looked at him. "Thanks....." she finally said, trailing off because she didn't know his name._

_"Officer Gordon." he told her. "But you can call me Jim."_

------------------------------------------------------------------

She awoke at 3am with a stiff neck. In her sleep she'd twisted herself into a position that would make a pretzel uncomfortable. The dream of being in the police station and the cop didn't concern her. It had come to her often over the years. Samantha was never sure why, the experience hadn't been particularly harrowing. Not as bad as later on when her dad had gotten hopelessly hooked on smack. What had always struck her as odd was that it was always so real. The cop was real, he was Commissioner now, the room was real. Nothing had been distorted in the dream.

On unsteady feet she made her way to her bedroom. If he hadn't come yet then he wouldn't be here. And if he did show up well that was tough. He could stand outside in the cold pecking on the damn window all night for all she cared. She had work in the morning.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

A few days passed. Samantha went to work, came home, tried not to think too much. She told herself she couldn't change anything. It didn't make things any easier. Brian Douglas still haunted her.

_He was just a guy trying to play Batman. Trying to do some good in the world, however misguided. And look what Jack did to him. Did he deserve that? Did the SWAT guys he and his men massacred deserve what they got for doing their jobs, for trying to take a madman to jail?_

On and on it went. Samantha was getting low on pills and that worried her too. Soon she'd be forced to go to the Narrows or suffer withdrawals.

She nuked a microwave dinner and ate in front of the tv. The news was just coming on and she watched with a feeling of dread. Since the night she'd researched the Joker she'd gotten back into her old habit of newswatching.

Nothing of interest. Not even a bank robbery or a murder, unusual for Gotham these days. With the disappearance of Batman crime was back on the rise and the mob was making a tentative comeback. Things were steadily getting worse.

_They'll get so bad that the Batman will come back. Then we'll see. Jack will forget about you. You're a diversion. Once Batman returns he'll leave you and it might sting at first but it'll be for the best._

"Not this shit again." she groaned. These internal dialogues with herself would end up driving her nutty, of that she was sure.

And as if on cue........

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

The window. The same one he'd went to the other night. Samantha stared at the tv screen, hand clenching her fork tightly, dinner forgotten in front of her.

_Taptaptaptap._

More insistent now. She swallowed, forced her face to remain calm so it would look as if she hadn't heard. Her heart was racing in her chest.

_Maybe he'll go away._

_**BANG!**_

Now _that_ she couldn't ignore. He was going to break her window out if he continued.

"Just a fucking minute!" she yelled. "God!"

She stomped to the door and let him in. Already giggling, he pushed past her and flopped onto the couch.

"Make yourself at home." she snapped.

"Well _someone's _a little bitchy." he quipped. He seemed to be in a great mood and as she turned to look at him she almost gasped. His face was bruied and cut, the injuries showing through his smeared facepaint. He sported a particularly nasty gash over one eye, the blood caking it was just beginning to dry.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, anger momentarily forgotten.

"What?" He looked confused until she pointed at his face. "Oh _that_. Uh, just a little misunderstanding. Had to, ah, clear a few things up with some mob fool." He grinned at her pleasantly. Oh he was in a fine mood indeed. It made her uneasy.

"Soooo....didya do some research on me Sam? Find out anything inter-esting?" He tented his fingers together, watching her expectantly.

She considered her next words carefully, wondering what she should tell him. She opted for the truth. It would come out eventually and he had a talent for knowing when she wasn't being straight with him.

"Yeah. I found out a lot of things." She stood at the door, not moving towards him.

"And? I take it they weren't good?"

"No. I saw the Brian Douglas video for one thing. And I read about your escape. Both of them."

"Impressive wasn't it? You'd think after the first time they'd be a little more careful...but no. So full of arrogance.....it was so easy to take them out. Too easy really. And that Douglas fellow...." he laughed dismissively. "Well that's what he got for imitating the _Bat-man. _You put yourself in harm's way you better expect what's coming to you. Don't you agree?"

She said nothing, merely stared at him in dawning horror. She'd known he was a sociopath but this was the clearest evidence of it. Right here in her face. He thought the whole thing was funny.

"I asked you a question Sam. Don't you agree? Hm?"

She blinked. "So let me get this straight. You think he deserved death, you think those cops deserved death because they put themselve's in harm's way?" She couldn't help but apply his words to her own situation and an edge came into her voice. "I guess that means you desrve death too, since you put yourself in harm's way all the time. And just who the fuck do you think you are Jack? Where do you get off playing God?"

He had flown the couch and closed the distance between them before she had the time to react. She realized she was against the wall and he had her by the arms.

"Who do I think I am?" he repeated thoughtfully, eyes glinting in amusement. "Well Saman-tha I _think_ I'm the best thing that's ever happened to this piece of shit city. And how many times do I have to tell ya to stop calling me that?"

She tried unsuccessfully to shake his grip. "Let me go." she snarled.

"No...why would I want to do that? You think....you think I'm gonna hurt you. Right?" His face was inches from hers. "I said I wouldn't hurt ya. You saw the tape. I'm a man of my word. That is....unless you want to be hurt." He grinned at her, pressing closer. The smell of gasoline, smoke and gun oil excited her, made her dizzy, infuriated her.

"I said....let. me. go." she repeated and pushed out at him with her weight. That moved him back a little and his grip on her arms loosened.

"Funny how you're so pissed about what you found. What did you think you'd find Sam? Hm? Maybe you would've been better off living in ignorance since you can't handle the truth. Funny thing is....your moral outrage is a sham....just a reflex. You don't give two damns about any of the people I killed...so stop pretending, hm?"

His words angered her more than she'd counted on and before she could stop herself she shoved him.

"You may be right." she hissed. "Partially anyway. And I blame myself for this, I really do. But I don't have to explain myself to you, I don't have to stand here and listen to you mock me because I'm upset over things you've done. Just get away from me, okay? Don't fucking touch me, just back off."

He advanced on her again, laughing, mocking her and it enraged her.

"Why'd ya let me in then?" he sneered, his body pushing her back. His hands lifted and she saw that he meant to grab her again.

"No!" She slapped him hard, vowing to punch him if he tried to touch her again. She was whipped into a fury now, as much at herself as him. The slap opened up the cut above his eye and to her dismay blood began to trickle from the wound.

_I'm probably in some trouble now, _she thought wildly and slid away from him. He caught her by one hand and yanked her back to him.

"Stop it." she panted. "Let me go, let me go, let me go. This was a mistake. Let me go."

He didn't and she punched him, catching him on the side of the head. She was in a frenzy now, only wanting to get away. Her body was betraying her, her heart was betraying her and she knew if she didn't get away from him this would never end. It would keep going and going and she would lose herself.

He shook her, making her head slam into the wall. Her teeth clicked together painfully.

"If you're wanting to make me go away you oughta know hitting me isn't the way to do it." his mouth was at her ear and his hot breath on her skin made her shudder. "Don't you know I like it? _I like the pain. _You know that don't you? Wanna see _how much_ I like it?"

She could feel his excitement, could feel how hard he was. Her rage turned into something else and she fought it. The sound of their breathing, hers frantic, his hoarse, triggered something off within her.

_Don't do it Sam. This is wrong. Keep your head. Don't think about it. Don't think about how good it feels._

"Goddamn you." she whispered. "Why can't you just....."

"Why can't I just what?" his teeth raked her earlobe.

And suddenly she knew if she gave in this would be irrevocable, there would be no turning back. There was nothing else. "Just let me go. Don't make me beg, don't make me....don't make me break down. _Let me go._"

He drew back. His eyes were black and cold, like a shark's. "No. No I don't think I'll, um, do that. You don't want that either. Oh sure, you pretend you want me to let ya go but you like it." His hand traveled between her legs and squeezed, fingers stroking her.

She hit him again, but this time it was different Her fury was spent and in its place was need. He knew it and growled his approval.

"That's it. Come on, do it again. Hit me. Do it!" His voice was a vicious rasp. She backhanded him, careful to miss the cut that was now bleeding profusely.

Making an animalistic sound deep within his throat he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to the floor. They went down in a heap and Samantha felt some of her hair rip out by the roots.

"You bastard...." she raged, eyes watering with pain, and he smacked her head into the floor.

"Oh yeah you still like to play rough ......don't you?" he muttered. His tone of voice had went into an odd little singsong she'd heard before.

"You have no idea." she spat, trying to buck him off her. He was on top of her, pinning her firmly to the floor and she remembered the struggles they used to have long ago. He'd made her fight to dominate him, never making it easy and she'd loved that. This was a perverse variation of that game. Now there were no rules.

He started digging around in his coat, looking for something. "Yeah...let's see, um, how rough you like to play." he rambled. His eyes had a faraway, glazed look that unnerved her.

She started to say something when his hand broke free of his coat. She heard a distinctive metallic sound and then she saw what he had pulled from his coat.

A switchblade, the wicked blade only inches from her face.

"_Let's just see."_

_---------------------------------_

**A/N: **Kinda like watching lions mating on the Discovery Channel, hahaha.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: **Thanks for your reviews and messages!

**CHAPTER TWENTY SIX**

The sight of the unyielding steel so close to her soft flesh made her naseous. It would be a simple thing for him to carve into her face, to turn her into a monster.

_Maybe he's testing you. And stop looking at the damn thing before you panic and make an ass out of yourself._

Samantha tore her gaze away from the knife and focused on his face.

"Figures." she told him. "Man of your word my ass."

He laughed at the comment and loosened his grip on her head. Her scalp still stung and she was sure he'd torn a decent sized chunk of hair out.

"And I thought _I_ had a death wish. Look at you, smarting off to the guy with a knife to your face. And anyway.....you don't know what I'm gonna do with this. Yet." He waved the switchblade at her, grinning slyly. His free hand grasped her chin firmly and the knife left her line of sight. That bothered her more than seeing it and her struggling began anew. She tried to ger her knee into position to nail him.

_Only do it as a last resort. But if you hit him you better make it count. He can handle pain better than most people. Slam him in the balls, take him out of commission long enough to run to your bedroom and get your gun._

He shifted his weight onto the leg she was trying to move, knowing what she intended to do.

"Oh Sam, Sam, Sam. Sure-ly you're not planning on kneeing me in the ah, nuts are ya?" he taunted. "What happened to the _love_ you supposedly had for me, hm?"

"It went out the window at around the same time you stuck a knife in my face." she responded. She quickly realized she'd made yet another mistake by saying that but it was too late.

_You just came out and admitted you loved him dumbass. He'll never let you live that down. Matter of fact he'll probably use it against you._

It was absurd that she even cared about it at this moment. He had her pinned to the floor with a switchblade in his hand and she was worried about her pride.

His fingers tightened on her chin like a leather-clad vise. "This distrust you have for me.....is _tiresome_. What do I have to do to.....prove to you I don't want to hurt you? Yeah I kill people, the ones that need killing anyway. But I don't want to kill _you_. If I didn't know any better I'd think you want me to....just so you could be right. Hey....didya know Patterson had a wife and kids?"

"Yes." she answered quietly.

"Did you feel bad for them when you found out he was dead?"

"No." she replied honestly. "I never gave them a thought."

"Ex-actly. You think you're so different from me but you aren't, are you? You didn't have a problem with me doing away with people that hurt you. Ya know.....you'd think saving someone's fucking life would be enough to gain their trust. But no....not with you. Think about it Sam. I've killed two people for _you_. That cop and Patter-son. Well, I woulda killed him anyway but I had you in my mind when I set him on fire."

His face was so close that his mouth was right at hers. His eyes were full of sadness, anger and other things she couldn't place.

"You see, you made an impression on me right from the start. I watched you and watched you and watched you and hoped that one day I'd get tired of you and _then_ I'd be able to go on. You're the only reminder I have of my past. Everything else I destroyed or left behind. Except for you. I never should have come back....I _know_ that. I told myself for a long time that if I came back you'd be disgusted, that you'd run from me."

His eyes shut for a moment, as if he didn't want to look at her. Samantha could tell this bothered him, he was opening himself up to her in his own way and he hated it yet was still compelled to do it. All thoughts of escaping faded and she laid still underneath him, waiting on him to continue.

His tongue darted over his lips nervously and he went on. "And I knew that if you did those things I might have killed you for it. See I can handle that from other people but I didn't know if I could have handled it with you. So I stayed away."

"I wouldn't have. I told you......"

"You make me _weak_ Sam." he interrupted in a voice so fierce she was sure he was about to stab her to death right then.

The shock of him saying those words hit her hard. He was saying the same things she'd thought to herself dozens of times in the past few weeks. How many more of his thoughts mirrored her own?

His eyes glazed over again, he was shutting down and she shook her head helplessly.

_What can I do? What do I say? This thing between us....it can't work. Can it? No matter what he says I'll always wonder if one day he'll turn on me. And the things he does.....oh damn what do I do?_

He gave a sudden movement, a swift upwards stroke with his knife hand, and she gasped in fear, thinking this was it. He'd made the decision to kill her. She felt cool air on her exposed skin and lowered her eyes in horror, half expecting to see herself gutted. Instead she observed that he'd cleanly sliced her shirt up the front. Another quick twist of his wrist and he cut the front of her bra open. His gaze slipped over her exposed chest and his lips crashed over hers, a low growl erupting from his throat as he forced his tongue into her mouth.

Arousal coursed through her like an electric current but she lay still, letting him have all the power. Through her haze she felt the hilt of the switchblade thrust into her hand and then his own hand forcing her fingers around it.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered when he finally pulled away. The handle was warm in her hand and she shuddered to think what he wanted her to do with it.

He didn't answer her. He moved down her body, stopping to lick and nip at her breasts. The interspersion of pleasure and pain left her breathless and she forgot about the knife, fixated on the feelings he gave her instead. The blood from the wound she'd reopened was still damp on his face and she ran her fingers over it regretfully.

At her touch he looked up. He saw the blood on her fingers and tilted his head curiously.

"Don't feel guilty....you've done _exactly_ what I wanted you to. This...this is why I like you, why I can't stay away from you. You're just too damn fun to leave alone."

She gave a short laugh, unsure of how to respond. He didn't smile back at her, his expression was serious.

"Why did you give me the knife?" she asked quietly.

A wicked smile crept across his face. "Stop asking questions." His hand stroked her lazily, going lower and lower. He unfastened her jeans and trailed his tongue down her stomach, making her jump. She realized then that he could do damn near anything and she would end up forgiving him.

_So this is what being dickmatized means. I used to laugh at women who were like this....and now here I am._

"Your pants. Off." he commanded, tugging at them impatiently.

"No. Not right now."

He raised an eyebrow. "Never thought I'd hear _you_ say that. What's wrong, got a headache?"

Samantha raised up a little, still holding the knife. "I want you in my mouth." she said.

He sized her up, not moving. His gaze went to the switchblade and she knew what he was thinking. He wanted her to use it. Just like in the old days when he'd craved pain, had requested for her to hurt him. Evidently the hitting hadn't been enough.

"No." she said, letting the knife slip from her fingers onto the floor. "I won't do it."

"C'mon, just a little. Just a _little_ cut." His hand crept up the inside of her thigh, stopping when it reached its destination and rubbing gently. "All the pain I've put myself through. The beatings from the Bat, the fights with mob guys...all of it and nothing compares to what you used to do to me."

His voice was a seductive growl and it was hard not to cave but she stood her ground. "I said no. Not right now anyway. Maybe...maybe if you do what I want I'll do what _you_ want."

_How easily we're slipping into our old games. Only now the power exchanges will have a whole new edge._

To her surprise she realized she was up to the challenge. As dangerous as the game might be she was willing to play it.

"What was it you said again? About wanting something in your mouth?"

Her face went hot. "You're really pushing me, aren't you? Want me to beg or do you want me to get rough?"

"Pick the knife up Sam."

"No."

"If you don't I will."

She shrugged nonchalantly but her heart beat faster and not entirely in fear. As risky as it was she wanted him to take control.

He snatched the knife up and was on his feet in an instant. "Oh...I see now." he smirked, looking down at her."I see how you want to play." Not waiting on her to respond he beckoned her to him. "Come here. Don't get up....do it on your knees."

She complied eagerly, stopping in front of him and waiting.

_I really ought to feel ashamed but I don't. Fuck it, I want this so bad. _

"Get to work." he snarled, twirling the knife in his hand. He looked menacing, as if he could kill her without a second thought. "Do it just like I tell ya to. Understand?"

"Yes." she nodded, staring up at him. This was a game they hadn't played often and the thought of it made her wet.

His hand stroked her hair gently. "Take it out. Now." The stroking turned into a vicious yank and she winced.

"Oh, does that hurt? That's nothing Sam." He laughed and she started to question the prudence of what she was doing. Nonetheless she unbuttoned his pants, pulled his zipper down. He was already hard and she bit her lip in anticipation. When she wrapped her hand around him he inhaled harshly and she smiled to herself. One of the best parts of this was having him in the palm of her hand. _She_ controlled the pleasure she gave and she knew she could make him lose control easily.

"Doitdoitdoit." he moaned.

The doorbell rang, making both of them jump. They looked at each other in almost comical surprise.

"Hey Sam!" a voice yelled through the door. "I know you're home. Let me in!"

Brian.

"Your friend is really getting on my bad side." the Joker snarled in frustration.

----------------------------------------------

**A/N: **I was going to post this yesterday because of the anniversary of Heath's passing away and his Oscar nomination. However I was nowhere near finished with the chapter.

A year ago today I came home from work and heard the news. I remember saying "Oh my God no." out loud. Of all the famous people that could die at any time he would have been at the bottom of my list. Hell, not even ON the list. Eventually I cried. I've never cried over any famous person. I've always had a sort of disdain for most of them. But not Heath.

Heath was special. When I saw him in Monster's Ball I realized that. I knew that this kid was talented. Incredibly talented. Not only that he was achingly gorgeous yet accessible. In his acting he had no vanity and he was totally fearless. The beefcake pretty boy thing was not for him and he fought it tooth and nail. And the more I found out about him the more I liked him and almost felt like I knew him. He was one of the few actors that could make me feel something, who could convey a bittersweet longing without so much as a word. And he was an incredibly nice, compassionate, warm person. Heath elevated acting, turned it into an art form and thing of beauty. He was too good for the business he was in.

And so one year ago today I sat reading the details of his passing in disbelief. It's still hard to believe. I never knew him but I miss him terribly. It may sound odd that I feel so strongly for a stranger but to me he wasn't a stranger. I only wish someone had been there with him that day. The thought that a guy who was so well liked and famous died alone when he was obviously having a rough time hurts me. I'd like to think he's in a place where his pain is gone and that he's looking down at Matilda and rolling his eyes at his Academy Award nomination, just like Gary Oldman said he would.

Love you Heath.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: **It was nice to see that several of you feel the same way as I do about Heath. I really appreciate the messages and reviews. If anyone ever wants to talk my ID for Yahoo and AOL IMs is oc1971jn. I'm on almost all day on weekends and after 6pm EST on weekdays.

**CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN**

"Maybe he'll go away." Samantha said, rising to her feet.

"I thought you said he didn't have a car."

"He didn't."

The voice outside became more insistent. "Hey I know you're home. Your car's here.....come on!"

Samantha ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Ok, I might have to talk to him. He's gonna start worrying if I don't." Brian had been concerned about her since she'd told him about knowing the Joker. He'd never come out and said it but she knew he thought she might be in danger.

"Open the door then. I'm getting tired of listening to him."

She glanced at Jack in irritation. "You're gonna have to hide. If he sees you he'll freak out. I don't know what he'll do but he won't be happy."

She got her jacket off the back of the couch to hide her exposed chest and tried in vain to smooth her hair.

"Hey! Stop fingering yourself and let me in!" Brian hollered.

"Nice." the Joker snorted.

"Ok, I'm going to let him in. Just please go into my bedroom and wait for him to leave."

He hesitated a moment, then walked to the bedroom at an unhurried pace.

She opened the door, trying to look sleepy. "Hey Brian, I was taking a nap. What's up, how'd you get here?"

He rushed in excitedly. "I got a car! Only seven hundred dollars. Its a piece of shit but it rolls, all that matters, right?" He paused. "Wow, you look.....disheveled. What took ya so long to come to the door?"

"I told you, I was asleep."

He scrutinized her. "Kinda late for a nap. Wait, you got a guy over here? Getting some huh? 'Bout time! Pretty girl like you shouldn't go without...know what I mean? But bad timing on my part, sorry."

"No, I....." He was talking so fast she couldn't think straight.

"Uh-huh. So I wanted to tell you about my car but I also wanted to know if you were looking for any goodies. I'll drive this time!" He was talking a mile a minute and Samantha wondered if he'd already gotten himself some "goodies".

"Um, maybe later. Right now I....."

"Eww, what's that? It looks like hair." He pointed to the floor. Her eyes followed his finger to a clump of her hair lying on the carpet.

"Oh I was cleaning my hairbrush out and...."

"That's kinda nasty Sam."

"I know. Sorry."

He looked her over and frowned. "There's something smeared on your face and neck....looks like make-up. Hey, Is that blood on your hand?"

_Good God Brian please get the hell out of here and leave me alone._

"Uh....no. It's....ketchup."

He grabbed her hand, ignoring her efforts to twist it free. "That's not ketchup. That's _blood._ What the fuck is going on here?"

"Nothing goddamnit! I was trying to take a nap!" Her voice had risen, she couldn't help being aggravated with him.

"What's with you....you okay?" Her tone, one she'd never used with him, had roused his suspicions. "You're wearing a jacket in the house and......" He leaned closer. "And what the FUCK? Your shirt is ripped!"

In her hurry she'd forgotten to zip the jacket up and it had fallen away a bit, revealing the shredded remains of her top and some of her bare skin. She hurriedly zipped it and crossed her arms over herself.

"Brian....it's nothing. Please don't worry. I'm okay I promise."

Something behind her drew his attention. His face went pale and she knew what he was seeing.

"Oh Samantha." Brian sighed, still looking over her shoulder. "Oh this is SO bad. _Him?_"

She turned around to see the Joker standing there. An image of Brian coming after him entered her mind and she held a hand to his chest in a halfhearted attempt to keep him back. She needn't have worried, Brian was too horrified to move.

"Hello there." the Joker smirked. "Haven't you ever learned not to drop in on people unannounced?"

"You creepy sonofabitch." Brian muttered. "I swear to God if you did something to her....."

"Nothing she didn't want." He sauntered closer and Brian cringed. The night the Joker put a knife to his throat was still fresh in his mind and even though Brian was much larger than him he was petrified of the other man.

"I told you to stay hidden." Samantha hissed to the Joker and he shrugged.

"Looked like you weren't, um, handling things too well. Figured I'd better come out and straighten everything out. Besides, hiding isn't my.....thing."

"You let him in your house Sam?" Brian whispered in disbelief.

"Yes." she answered and he shook his head. "Look, it's okay." she continued. "He's not going to hurt me."

"Could have fooled me. You've got blood on your hand, your shirt is cut open and your hair is on the floor. Oh yeah, I'm real sure he won't hurt you."

"Brian the blood is _his._ Look." she pointed at the Joker's face. "I hit him and opened up a cut."

"And the hair and your shirt?"

"Um we were just messing around."

The Joker giggled and Brian looked sick. "So you _are_ fucking him...."

"Well we were getting around to that til _you_ came around." the Joker taunted and Brian looked as if he were about to come at him. Samantha remembered the knife that the Joker had somewhere on him and stepped in front of Brian.

"Brian no. Look, you can't say anything about this. Please. Don't tell anyone, not even Melissa. If this gets around the cops will be here so fast. It'll be bad. _Real_ bad. Understand?"

"Yeah." he mumbled.

"I'll call you later. We can go do something and talk some more if you want."

Brian shot her a reproachful look. This bothered him and he didn't try to hide it. Samantha was one of his best friends. They'd met at a party years ago and hit it off perfectly. If he hadn't been happily married he might have been interested in her but preferred her as a friend. He could talk to her like he could talk to any guy and she had always accepted him. They'd been through a lot together, from the pain of losing parents to the pitfalls of drug use.

And now he saw that he might lose her. This man, this _freak,_ could murder her in a fit of rage and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. And to make matters worse she _wanted_ him here.

Turning to the door he shook his head again. He didn't want to leave but he obviously wasn't wanted here.

"Be careful Sam. Please."

"I will." she said sadly. She didn't want him to leave like this. Why did Jack have to come out? This could have went so much better if he'd just stayed in the bedroom.

"Because if anything happens to you." He looked at the Joker pointedly. "It won't matter who you are or how crazy you're supposed to be. I'll find you."

The Joker looked unimpressed. "Whatever you say big boy."

Samantha gave the Joker a dirty look and turned back to Brian. "Like I said, it's fine. Call me later, okay? And remember what I said, don't tell anyone about this."

He nodded, avoiding her gaze, and walked out the door. Samantha watched him get into his car and drive away.

When he was gone she shut and locked the door. "Why the hell did you do that?" she asked the Joker. "You just made things really awkward between Brian and me."

"He was getting upset Sam. He would have never left if I hadn't come out. He knew something was going on."

To a certain point he was right but the way he handled it had been awful. Samantha knew he'd done it on purpose.

"There was no need to taunt him though."

"He'll get over it. Now we'll see if he really is a rat. That's something I need to know if you're gonna keep bringing him to the Narrows."

"He's not. I wouldn't hang around with him if he was."

"Hm. Well you'd be surprised what he might do if he thinks I'm gonna hurt you. I think he's got a little bit of a crush on you Sam."

"No he doesn't. He loves Melissa. He's just a good friend, that's all."

He didn't look convinced but let the matter drop. "You look upset....what's the problem, hm?"

"He looked so _disappointed_ with me." she blurted out and stared at the floor, feeling silly.

"So? Like I said...he'll get over it." He walked over to her, stopping only when a few inches of space seperated them. "Who cares what he thinks. Who cares what anyone thinks. At the factory...when people found out we were.....hanging around together.....how did they act?"

"Like there was something wrong with me." she admitted. She was taken aback at the mention of the factory. He rarely brought up the past.

"Yeah. They thought I might murder you. And because you were with me they thought well....something _has_ to be wrong with you too. Right? Same thing. He may be your friend Sam but he's not much different from _them_."

"Maybe there is something wrong with me." she murmured.

"There is Sam. Why do you think I was drawn to you? Hm? Right from the start." His eyes darkened. "Enough about that. I think we have....._unfinished business."_

"We do." she agreed.

He produced the switchblade from his overcoat and motioned to the floor. "Get back down there."

-----------------------------

She teased him for as long as she was able, bringing him to the brink and stopping, slowly building back up again. Then, fearing he might snap, she finished him off.

"Fuck." he panted when he finally got his voice back.

Still on her knees, she looked up at him innocently. "Is there a problem?"

"You've got a knack for...torment. Anyone ever tell you that? That was, uh, torture. Really incredible torture."

"I've been told that a time or two." she smiled. "You sure didn't sound like a man who was being tortured. And if I wanted to be really mean I would have _stopped_."

He considered that for a moment. "I'm gonna pay you back for that."

"That's what I'm hoping." she answered with a wicked grin.

--------------------------------------

"Fuck." she panted when she finally got her voice back.

He had licked and nibbled her until she was on the verge of coming and then he'd stopped. He'd even gotten up and looked in her refrigerator for food while she lay there cursing him. Finally he'd come back, laughing sadistically, and thrust himself inside her until she'd literally cried from the agonizing pleasure.

Sex with him had always been something beyond ordinary. It was unbearably pleasurable and wild but at the same time excruciatingly bittersweet. It was a hundred things all muddled together and she couldn't figure out why it was that way but she was happy to experience it.

Now they were lying naked on the living room floor, covered in a sheen of sweat and too exhausted to move.

"Told ya."

"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow." she said, wincing at the pain in her leg muscles.

"That's what you get." he muttered. His make-up was long gone and he looked so much like Jack she felt like she'd been transported back eight years. He was even acting more like Jack.

_It won't last. Enjoy it while you've got it._

"I might be gone for a little while." he said abruptly. His eyes were shut and he looked deceptively peaceful.

"What? Why?" she couldn't keep the worried tone out of her voice.

"I have a, um, job to do. Something I've been meaning to do for a while. To do it properly I'll have to.....be gone."

The feelings that welled up in her were troubling. "How long?"

"I don't know. Til it's done."

She was silent for a moment. His words filled her with dread. Not only at what he might do but at the fact he'd be gone.

_I don't want him to go._

"Can you tell me anything about it?"

"You ever get bored with your life Sam?" He opened one eye and looked over at her intently.

The change of subject told her he didn't want to tell her about the "job" so she let it go for the moment. "Yeah. Don't we all?"

"Then why don't you change it?"

"Easier said than done. I've got to have a home, got to work......."

"That can change. You don't need those things." he interrupted.

"I'm not quite following you."

"Think about it." he said and shut his eye.

She did think about it and a startling realization came to her. She quickly dismissed it.

_That can't be it. No way._

_-----------------------------------------------------------_

**A/N: **So what's he up to?


	28. Chapter 28

**CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT**

"If you mean what I _think_ you mean the answer's no." she told him. "Remember what I told you. Don't involve me in your doings. I won't help you or be a part of them."

"I didn't say a thing about you helping me. I don't _need_ help. No, keep thinking."

She lay there, wondering what he was talking about. Each idea that came to her was too ludicrous to consider so she gave up. He was probably stringing her along, playing a game.

"Those eight years.....were you in Gotham the whole time?"

"No. I came and went. Traveled around a little you might say."

"What did you do?" She'd never really questioned him about what he'd done for all those years and the urge to find out more about him had overcome her.

"Oh...learned things. Figured things out. Decided what I wanted to do. What's with all the questions all of a sudden?" He looked over at her.

"I was just wondering."

"After you left my house that night I grabbed what I could and left. I came back a few weeks later and burned it down. By then Patterson's guys had got all my.....equipment."

Samantha thought about the knives, fertilizer and other devices of destruction in his basement.

"I tried calling your cell." she said. "He told me you were dead, that they dumped you in a ditch to die. But I didn't stop trying. Not for a long time."

"I threw the phone away. If I kept it around I knew I'd answer it. Couldn't do that. Couldn't talk to you. And let me tell you....waking up in a ditch, half dead....that's an experience. I laid there for a long time, waiting to die. Finally I realized it wasn't gonna be that easy. That was a rebirth. After that day I _knew_." His voice had turned icy.

"Knew what?"

"Knew what I was gonna do with my life."

"I've been wondering....you killed Patterson but not Crane. He handed you the knife, he's the one that gassed you with that stuff and put the idea in your head to do.....what you did. But you never came after him. I guess you know he's in Arkham now. The Batman got him."

"Hm. Well that's the problem isn't it? He's in Arkham. Hard to get to him in there. Unless I got put in there myself."

Samantha didn't respond.

--------------------------

Gordon sat the phone down and stared at the wall blankly. He'd been right all along but there was no satisfaction in it.

His informant had called him again, giving him inside information that only one of the Joker's men could know. He wasn't in New York, that had been a ruse, a game. Everyone had believed it except for him.

They had all been victims of wishful thinking. The kind of thinking that could cost untold amounts of lives. How hard would it be to _look_ like the Joker? Some make-up, a suit and green hair and there you go. But no, everyone had said "Oh thank God. He's someone else's problem now."

Fools.

No, whoever was running around New York blowing things up and assassinating public officials was not him. He was either a copycat or one of his flunkies.

And the phone call he'd just gotten.....the caller had told him where the Joker had been holed up. In the Narrows of course. The best place to go if you were on the run.

"He's moving around a lot now." the caller had cautioned him. "He knows something is going on. He still comes back to the Narrows though, to this motel. Some of his guys stay there and he touches base with them, lets them know what's going on, sends them on little jobs every once in awhile."

"Why are you doing this?" Gordon had asked. He didn't trust this, not at all.

"I have my reasons. My brother used to work for him too, til the Joker killed him. Stuck a gun in his mouth and blew the back of his head out. I can't kill him, I can't even get near him. But I can bring him down."

"How often does he go to the Narrows?"

"Couple of times a week. No set time. One of his guys there sells on the side. Well he used to....now he just sells to this girl. I don't know why the Boss lets him, he frowns on selling drugs. But for some reason he doesn't have a problem with it when it comes to this girl."

"Do you know anything about her?"

"Nothing. I've seen her once or twice but I don't know her name or any details. She's tall, brownish blonde hair, late twenties or so. Pretty."

"She his girlfriend?"

The caller snorted. "_Girlfriend?_ Him? I've never seen him so much as touch a woman. He thinks sex is for the weak. One of those types, ya know? Only woman I've ever seen him around was that Dawes girl and we saw what happened with her."

Gordon flinched at the mention of Rachel. "Anything else?"

"No I think that's about it. If I think of anything else I'll call and let you know."

They had talked once before and Gordon had sent men to scope out the Narrows. They'd never seen anything and he chalked it up to a crank call. But now....

Now he'd be more tenacious. He'd send men out again and this time he'd keep sending them out until they saw something. And the girl.....he'd give anything to know who she was. She could be the key to finding the Joker.

He wouldn't have anymore deaths on his conscience.

-----------------------------------------------------

"I intended to quit and then take the weapons. Only reason I went to work there was to case the place, find out their weaknesses. But because of _you_ I didn't quit. I thought I could stay and still get away with it. Didn't work out that way. They caught me the next day."

"How'd they find out it was you?"

He shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe a camera I didn't know about. I was kinda sloppy about the whole thing. Again because of you."

"Don't blame me, you're the one who did it. I didn't know anything about what you were up to. Did you do that on your own or were you hired?"

"Hired. Some of Falcone's men. Those mob guys....they talk a good talk about honor and so on but they're constantly double crossing each other. They just get a nobody to do their dirty work so it looks like they never did anything wrong. And if that nobody gets caught....."

"Yeah....my dad used to say that. 'Crooked as a barrel of snakes' he used to say."

Jack stretched and sat up. "I almost forgot.....I have something for you."

He got up and Samantha couldn't help but stare at his naked body. He was in good shape for someone who didn't seem to take care of himself. He was lean yet muscular, his flesh criss-crossed with scars in various stages of aging.

He dug a bottle out of his coat and tossed it to her. It was full of pills, the good kind. Their street value would be thousands of dollars. She looked at him in disbelief.

"That should hold you over for a while." he said, slipping on his clothes. "It'll keep you from going to the Narrows. Stay away from there Sam, I'm warning you."

She stood up, looking for her own clothes, or what was left of them. "This isn't sounding good." she remarked.

"It's nothing. Just a little, um, business. I'll be back."

She was reminded of her last conversation with him, before he'd gotten caught by Patterson and dread rose in her again. She wanted to say something, anything, but nothing would come.

He saw the look on her face and smiled. He'd always had an uncanny ability to know what others were thinking.

"I'll be back." he repeated. "I'll always be back. Don't you know that by now?"

She didn't answer. The memories of what had happened before were too strong.

_If he dies, if he gets put in jail he won't be back. You'll never see him again. This is why you were supposed to keep your distance._

---------------------------------------------------

A week had passed with no word from him. She still had plenty of pills so that wasn't a problem. The problem was she was worried. It was stupid and she knew it but it didn't change anything.

_He's not the most careful person. He doesn't even seem to care if he dies. Anything could happen._

She sat at home, hoping to hear a tapping on her window but it never came. And then one night she couldn't take it. She got her coat on and prepared to go to the Narrows. Before she could leave a car pulled up in her driveway. For a moment she felt hope but when she saw the massive figure exit the car she realized it was just Brian.

"Where ya going in this weather Sam?" he asked. It was a frigid night with six inches of snow on the ground and more to come.

"To the Narrows."

"I'll go with you."

"Not a good idea Brian. I think something is about to happen. I haven't seen....him in a while."

He made a face. "That bothers you? You should be glad.

"Look, I'm going. I know you don't approve but I'm still going okay?"

"Then I'm going with you. I'm not gonna let you go there alone." he said with a hint of finality. When he got like this she couldn't argue with him.

"Okay fine. Let's go then."

"Got your gun?"

"Yep."

"Let's take my car."

--------------------------------------------------

"You should reconsider this." Brian said softly.

"Reconsider what?"

"_Him_. He's no good Sam, he's dangerous. And his teeth....God. He won't have any in a few years. And would it kill him to wash his hair? I'm not the cleanest guy in the world but what the....."

"Look, I don't want to discuss this right now."

"All I'm trying to do is look out for you. He reminds me of that dog I used to have, a pit bull. Doobie was his name."

"Yeah I remember Doobie. Miserable mutt."

"Doobie was okay with me but he was a fuckin menace to everyone else. No one could get near him. Eventually he started showing out with me too and I had to take him to the pound."

"I know. Good riddance too. I hated that damn thing. Anyway...he's not an animal. He's a person. There's a difference you know."

Brian didn't look convinced but he kept his mouth shut.

When they got to the Narrows they found it deserted. Snow had begun to fall and the place looked like a ghost town.

_He won't be here. He won't be here. Wasting your time._

And if she did find him what would she say?

_Doesen't matter. I just need to make sure he's alive. That's all._

They pulled up in front of the motel. There were hardly any cars in the parking lot and few lights burning in the windows.

"Wait here for me." she told Brian.

She made her way up the slippery stairs to room 312 and knocked on the door. No one answered. There wasn't a sound in the room.

"Shit." she swore. She waited a few more seconds and went back to the car.

"No one's there. If they are they're not answering the door."

"What now?"

She thought. There was nowhere else to search for him. She didn't know where else he went.

"I guess we'll go back to my house." she said, feeling disappointed.

Brian started to turn the ignition when the car was lit up from behind.

"What the fuck?" Brian said.

"The cops." Samantha answered with a sinking feeling in her stomach.


	29. Chapter 29

**CHAPTER TWENTY NINE**

"You in the car. Come out with your hands up!"

One of the cops had a loudspeaker and was yelling orders at them.

They had their spotlights on Brian's car and when she looked through the rearview mirror Samantha could see a small fleet of police cars.

"Damn, they snuck right in behind us didn't they?" she remarked. "They moved _fast._"

"You got anything on you?" Brian asked.

"Two pills and my gun. You?"

"Nothing. Better eat those pills and leave the gun in here. They got us, we're gonna have to get out and soon."

She dry swallowed the pills. She normally did half of one, at most a whole.

_In thirty minutes or so I'm gonna be a real sight. _

"Ready?" he said.

"Ready as I'm gonna get."

They started to open the car doors when all hell broke loose. Men came from the motel rooms, from behind the buildings, from the shadows. Each of them wielded some sort of weapon. In unison they began to fire on the police. Bulletts whizzed past Brian's car and they both ducked back inside.

"Sonofabitch!" Brian yelled. "What's going on here?"

"It's his men. They must think the cops are coming after him." Samantha answered. "Or they were coming for him the whole time."

A volley of bullets from the cops had them trying to flatten themselves into the floorboard. Brian's bulk was preventing him from squeezing into the small space.

"We've gotta get out of this car." she told him. "It's a death trap. They'll end up hitting us if we stay here."

"But where are we gonna go? We're trapped from the front and back."

She thought hard. "There was a truck to the left of us. If we can get over that way we can hide behind it."

Brian was about to protest when a shot blew out his front window. He nodded mutely.

"Ok, let's go." she said. "You first. Get behind the truck. I'll be right behind you."

He scrambled out surprisingly quickly, with Samantha right on his heels. In the seconds it took to get to the truck she expected to be hit. They made it safely and now had a good view of what was going on around them.

The cops were hiding behind their own cars, guns drawn. Radios squawked and she could hear them whispering commands. On the other side the Joker's men crouched behind doors and buildings. A lull came over the battle, an eerie silence that filled her with foreboding.

Someone tossed a grenade at the cops and they scattered with screams of warning. A moment later everything went yellow as it exploded. Brian's car was blown to pieces and Samantha heard the shrieks of cops who had been hit with shrapnel.

"Ah shit not my car!" Brian growled. "Sam I swear to God you're getting me another one."

"Sorry." she shrugged sheepishly.

The cops regrouped and now she saw the SWAT men. They were heavily armored and looked for all the world like giant ants. Gripping their riot guns tightly they pointed and talked amongst themselves.

The shooting began anew, with no warning, and she covered her ears against the din. It sounded like every kind of weapon in the world was being fired. Shotguns, handguns, rifles.

And through the noise she heard it. A machine pistol. Its sound was unique and she knew _he _owned one.

_He's here. I know he is._

Bullets slammed into the truck's frame, too close for comfort.

"Brian, we've gotta move again." she whispered. "But I'm not sure where. At this point both sides are out for blood. What do you think?"

No answer.

"Brian?" she looked back at him impatiently.

He was leaning against the car's door, completely still. For a long moment she stared at him.

_No._

The top of his head was gone. All that remained of his face was below the bridge of his nose. Blood steamed in the frigid air.

Samantha blinked. She was seeing things, that was it. There was no way he was dead, he'd just spoken to her, he'd been alive a few seconds ago.

"Oh....no." Her hand reached out to him. So still.

_Most of his head is gone. Gone. Those last shots fired got him. He's gone Sam._

"Brian." she whispered. He couldn't hear her, of course not, but she said his name anyway.

From behind her one of the Joker's men scurried from one building to another. The cops, enraged at the loss of their own, instantly started shooting. Bullets pelted the truck and Samantha shrank back, trapped. Pain shot through her lower leg, white hot and excruciating.

_I'm hit. I'm next. Next to die. Gonna die. Sorry Brian. I brought you here. I deserve it._

No shots came from the Joker's side. They'd either run away or were waiting. Samantha began to crawl that way, away from the cops and SWAT men. She wanted only to escape from the roaring guns. She kept low to the ground, dragging herself along painfully. Her hands were numb from the snow but she scrabbled along. A quick glance over her shoulder proved that the truck still blocked her from their line of sight and so she went on.

After a few agonizing moments she was near the motel, now engulfed in flames from some unknown source. Only then did she stop, letting the fire warm her a little. More gunshots made her start to move again. She became aware of the sound she was making, a tortured whimper that started in the back of her throat, and she forced herself to stop.

_Keep going. Just get away. You got Brian killed you stupid bitch. No whining, at least you're still alive. Now go._

Just then a man slipped out of the shadows. He gaped at her in amazement, this woman in the middle of the shootout, on the Joker's side of the battleground no less. Recognition flashed over his face and Samantha realized he was the guy she'd bought from so many times.

"Oh no." he moaned. "What are you doing here? Christ you're bleeding bad. You don't need to be here."

He circled around her, clearly agitated. "Boss isn't gonna like this nooooo. Not at all." He prodded her with one booted foot. "You should have stayed away. Now look what's happened to you."

He looked up and saw Brian's corpse a few feet away. Most of the body's head was missing but from the sheer size he figured it had to be Samantha's friend.

"Damnit." he muttered. He considered leaving her, just walking away and pretending like he'd never seen her. If he told the boss it would slow things down. He might even want to take her and she'd be a burden. But then again....if he didn't say anything and the boss found out....he shivered at the thought of that malevolent gaze on him, at what the boss would do to him. And he had a way of finding things out, he sure did.

With that in mind he dashed off in search of his employer.

Samantha didn't notice his departure. Rolling onto her back she gazed up at the sky. From the fat fluffy clouds came fat fluffy snowflakes, delicately hitting her face and melting. The cold crept into her very bones and she let it. No point in fighting now. Might as well just lie here and let whatever happens happen. The pills were hitting her, taking away the pain.

Strange she had always disliked snow until this moment. Before it had always meant hardship, misery, shoveling. And now it was lovely. Magical. Her blood turned the snow around her into a crimson slush but she didn't notice. Eyes wide open she watched the sky and waited to die. A memory of the lake slipped into her mind. Of going under and her dad yelling and yelling for her. How beautiful it had been. So forbidden and cold.

She didn't even hear the footsteps crunching closer to her. Her mind had slipped past the shock and trauma to take her into a dream state. A long shadow passed over her and she looked through it, face serene and completely oblivious.

"Samantha." A long sigh. "I _told_ you didn't I? Hm? Now look what's happened."

The Joker leaned over her. His eyes mirrored the coldness of the night but his mouth was set in a thin line of anger and......distress? Fingers clad in leather touched her cheek and that brought her back. Her glassy eyes settled on his face and gradually regained focus.

"You." she whispered thinly. "You."

There was no accusation in her voice, only awe and resignation. She could see wild hair silhoutted against flames and smoke and black sky. His face inscrutable and fierce, make-up freshly applied. He was demonically beautiful.

_He'll leave me to die and I deserve that._

"She's bled a lot." the dealer's voice from somewhere behind the Joker.

"Hm." He was kneeling beside her. "Sam, you're dying. You're, ah, bleeding to death."

She couldn't speak anymore. Her mouth moved but she didn't have the strength to push the words out. She wanted to tell him it didn't matter now, that she'd been rushing headlong into this since the day she'd met him. But nothing would come out. She gave up trying and stared at him. Seeing him made her heart ache, which was a shameful thing to her. Sentiment had never been her thing.

_So icy and beautiful.....just like this night. Untouchable. I've lost everything because of him. And now he'll leave me to die._

He was saying something about how she wasn't supposed to be there, about how she never listened but she blacked out and never heard the rest.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: **Holy crap....thirtieth chapter. This is a short one. Think of it as an intermission of sorts that will seperate the stories. I could have ended this and started the next stuff as a sequel but decided that was unnecessary. Everything after this I consider Act 2 (that sounds pretentious but you get my meaning). A lot of changes and turmoil are in store for Sam and Jack/Joker.

Thanks to my loyal readers and reviewers. When I check my email and see new reviews or PMs I always get a charge and it inspires me to keep going. Well I would keep going even if no one reviewed but it makes me pick up the pace.

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

She was awakened by shouting.

"I want him tied up and transported by helicopter to the MCU. NO mistakes this time, you understand me?" The voice was so twisted with fury that she didn't recognize it as Gordon's.

"Aww, having a bad night Commissioner?"

_Jack._

"You shut up." someone else said and she looked over to see five men milling around over a figure on the ground. They were only a few feet away from her.

The Joker was face first in the snow. It was strange seeing him like this. Handcuffed at the wrists and ankles, seemingly helpless.

One of the men grumbled something in a low voice and administered a vicious kick to the Joker's ribs.

"Don't bother, he likes it." another remarked with a humorless chuckle.

The Joker laughed, the kick seemed to have no effect on him. "Soooo, let me get this straight......you guys are gonna stand around me. All _five_ of you....while _she_ lays there and dies?" He jerked his head towards Sam.

"The paramedics are coming." Gordon said. He was crouched over her now, looking at her with the oddest expression.

She didn't know it but he was wondering if she were the one the informant had told him about. She had to be. She matched his description, she'd been at the motel when they'd shown up to take the Joker in. The Joker been spotted in the area, the informant had called telling him to _hurry_, get there _now_. They'd tried to get her and her friend out of the way but it was too late. They'd been caught in the crossfire.

She was shivering under the blankets they'd placed over her and Gordon took his coat off and draped it over her. He thought she nodded at him in thanks but the move was so slight that it could have been his imagination. He felt pity for her, she didn't look like a hard eyed moll or a manipulative bimbo with self esteem issues.....the usual types that got involved with criminal elements. No, she looked soft and vulnerable. _Normal._

"Get on the radio and tell the paramedics to hurry it up." he ordered one of the men. "She's not going to last much longer."

"Sam." the Joker whispered. "Hey."

She looked over at him with hooded eyes.

"Don't die Sam. Remember what I said? We're not finished. Not by a, um, not by a _long shot."_

Gordon rocked back on his heels in shock and glanced at the woman. She said nothing. He doubted she could even speak. The whole time the Joker's black eyes bored into her, he was utterly fixated on her. It gave him cold chills. He could feel something between them, it was almost tangible.

_What the hell is going on with these two?_

"Say another word to her and we'll tape your mouth shut, clown." one of the men snarled and gave the Joker another kick to the side for good measure.

The Joker merely snickered. "Well aren't you just the _big, bad_ man? Ya know what's funny? If I wasn't handcuffed and it was just us you'd be begging for your life. _Crying._ Ya know what you are? Hm? A coward. Yeah...you're the type that would offer up his wife and kids to save his own skin. Isn't that right? C'mon now, admit it."

"You goddamn freak, I oughta shoot you in your miserable head right now......"

"Enough!" Gordon shouted. "Robbins, stop letting him bait you. You ought to know better. Now, listen up everyone. We're going to have to move north. There's an empty lot there where the helicopter can land. On our way there be alert to our surroundings. We got most of his guys but there may be more around. We cannot afford an ambush. Got that?"

The men answered in the affirmative.

"What about her?" one of them asked, pointing at Samantha.

"We can't leave her alone. We wait til the paramedics get here. In the meantime get every additional unit to help cover the landing site."

Gordon looked at his watch. It was taking too long. The amount of wounded, the risk of an ambush and the weather had slowed the paramedics down. Each minute that passed made him more anxious. All he wanted was to get this sonofabitch to the MCU, by air seemed the safest way, and in a secure cell. He just wanted to go home. Tonight had been an unmitigated disaster. Twelve dead, twenty one wounded. Some of the casualties were in a very bad way and by dawn he was sure the death toll would have risen. And no Batman to show up and save the day.

How he hated his job sometimes.

----------------------------------

Samantha shut her eyes wearily. The energy expended to keep them open just wasn't worth it. Darkness crept in and soon she felt nothing.

-----------------------------------------

**A/N:** I agree with most of you that Sam going to the Narrows (and taking poor Brian!) in search of the Joker was an incredibly dumb move. While I was writing it I was thinking "Sam you dumbass!". She's not a stupid woman....it just goes to show how much the Joker has gotten underneath her skin. Plus I had to have her do some sort of royal screw-up to get the ball rolling in the right direction. Personally I would have kept my ass at home.

So anyway yeah she's still alive and I still have no idea how much longer this will go. I didn't expect to get into this story as much as I did and now I hate the thought of ending it. I think I'm using it as a diversion from RL things. Oh and the Joker makes me happy in all kinds of places. LOL, okay, TMI...I know. But my God....he's gorgeous. He's ruined me from RL men!

Seriously, I'm gonna hate ending this story but I've got a ways to go and more sex, suffering and fun things to write before that happens. Next chapter starts Part 2 of the story!

Oh and another little stupid thing I just thought of. I don't know if any of my readers watch "Intervention" but I've always thought that the counselors on that show would go apeshit over Jack/Joker. He's a terrible enabler of Sam's little problem, hahaha.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: **And so begins Part Two! Italics sections are flashbacks. And yeah I know, I'm becoming obnoxious with the updating.

**CHAPTER THIRTY ONE**

_Six months later_

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Gordon asked her.

They were sitting in his office at the MCU. Samantha was perched on the edge of her seat, trying not to look nervous.

"I'll be honest with you. I _don't_ want to do this. But if it gets me out of the trial I'll do it."

He smiled comfortingly at her. "In my opinion, if you want it that is, this a great deal for you. A few visits with him and you're free of this mess. If you don't then you'll have to suffer through a lengthy trial, and God only knows how long _that _will drag out, a media circus, your face and name in the papers and on the news."

She nodded. "Yeah. I've already been in the papers and on the news. I can do without it. People still look at me funny."

"Think you can handle seeing him again?" Gordon asked. His voice was sympathetic but his eyes studied her keenly.

"Yes. I think I can." That was the truth. Meeting with the Joker was something she both dreaded and wanted. She'd made so much progress in the past three months, she was afraid she'd begin to backslide as soon as she saw him.

"You'll be fine." Gordon reassured her. "In the end this will be for the best. We'll get the information from him we need and you'll stay under the radar. And you'll be safe, he's in Level Three at Arkham, the most secure part. Every precaution will be taken."

"So he asked to speak with me?" Samantha said. "After all this time....I don't understand."

Gordon shook his head. "No one does. He just made it known that he wanted to talk to you and in exchange he'd tell us his name, other crimes he was involved in. The works. We told him we'd discuss it with you."

"And here we are."

"Yeah. Here we are. So, I take it you're game?"

"Sure. When do I go?"

"Whenever is convenient. He doesn't get many visitors. Mostly his lawyers and police from other jurisdictions. No one stays long, he won't cooperate with anyone. Hard to believe after all this time and we still know nothing about him. You probably know more about him than anyone in the world."

"Six months and he still won't say anything." she marvelled.

Six months could be a very long time. She knew that better than most.

----------------------------------------------------------------

_She'd been in the hospital for a week before they finally allowed her to go home. During her stay she'd been visited by journalists, cops....and Melissa._

_Melissa hadn't blamed her. She'd known how stubborn Brian was, how he'd wanted to go along with her. But their friendship was over. She'd never be able to look at Samantha without thinking of how she'd caused her husband's death._

_Samantha's face had been splashed across the newspapers and on the news. Footage of her being loaded into an ambulance, old photos of her that she hadn't even known existed. The speculation was maddening, humiliating. One headline had read:_

**JOKER'S GIRLFRIEND? **

_An enormous picture of her had been placed directly underneath the text. People started whispering when they saw her. Pointing, casting her hateful looks. _

_For a while she'd wanted to die. When she'd gotten home from the hospital she'd stood in her living room, looking around helplessly. She was alone now. Brian was gone, dead. Jack was gone, in jail for life. Eventually she curled up in a ball on her couch and sobbed hopelessly. She'd thought she'd known despair when Jack had been caught by Patterson....but that was nothing. This was heart-rending and filled her with such desolation she didn't think she'd be able to cope with it._

_She'd still had a lot of pills that Jack had given her and she'd went so far as to dump them out in her palm and study them. Shame had stopped her then but she still did it occasionally, when the pain became too great. And each time she'd put them away, vowing to never think about it again. Her gun was gone, blown up in Brian's car, or she might have used it on herself. There was a hole in her heart, in her very soul, and nothing would fill it. She'd killed Brian. Brian who had only wanted to help her. She'd killed him as surely as if she'd fired that shot herself._

_Many a night was spent in a half conscious haze in front of her television. She missed so much work that she got fired from her job at the call center. Since she'd been connected to the Joker, however tenuously, they'd been looking to get rid of her and her absenteeism was the perfect excuse. People that had known her for years were shunning her, casting her away._

_For a long miserable month she was without work. And then one day a bookstore she'd put an application into called her. That was her turning point. After three months of mourning and sheer hell her life began an upswing._

_A new job, a different class of people to socialize with. And she met Eric._

_------------------------------------------------_

"I can't tell you how helpful this will be to us." Gordon told her.

"I want to get some things straight first. I won't mislead him or try to get information from him." she said firmly. "I'm only there to visit and talk about whatever he wants to talk about. Nothing else."

"Of course. You're not expected to do anything like that. Basically he said he'd tell us things under the condition you come to see him. That's it. You can talk to him about...whatever." Gordon couldn't help but think about the night of the shootout. The way the Joker had looked at her with a spooky intensity that had been unnerving. He knew something had went on between them, it was obvious. Yet he still liked Samantha and didn't think she'd had a hand in any of his plots. They'd questioned her endlessly until they'd satisfied themselves she merely had bad taste in men.

He still found it hard to believe she knew so little about him but there wasn't much he could do about it. All she knew was he'd went by the name Jack Napier, which was a fake name, he used to work with her and he was twenty-nine years old. She claimed to have no idea how he'd gotten his scars. In short she knew nothing useful.

His trial was coming up soon, in a few weeks. They were desperate for info on his crimes and murders he was suspected of but no one could prove. He was going to go for the insanity plea, of that Gordon was sure, and the DA was desperate to make sure he stayed in Arkham forever if he couldn't be executed for his deeds.

And then one day the Joker had sent word to Gordon. A simple proposition. Let Samantha visit him in Arkham, just a few times, and he'd tell all. He was a man of his word, he promised. They wouldn't be disappointed. He was bored in his cage in Level Three.

He hadn't been in Level Three the whole time though. After he'd been moved to Arkham (they'd deemed it safer than letting him sit in the MCU until his trial) he'd been a model inmate. He'd went to therapy sessions, got along with the others, did as he was told. Security was gradually relaxed around him.

A foolish move.

One day the sounds of screaming and maniacal laughter drew orderlies and guards to Dr. Jonathan Crane's room. What they'd found there sent some away to throw up and a few others to suffer nightmares for a long time.

The Joker had forced him to carve his own face up. The ensuing mess made the Joker's own scars look like a birthmark. Then he'd cut Crane's nose and part of his ears off, laughing the entire time. He was busy trying to pry one of Crane's eyes out of its socket when they found him. He'd used a butter knife that he'd managed to have smuggled into the asylum. No one ever found out who had done it. He'd pretended to straighten up his act to get to Crane and he'd done a damn fine job of fooling everyone.

Crane survived the attack, which given the way he now looked, wasn't necessarily a good thing. After that incident the Joker was moved to Level Three. He was placed in a special observation cell, reserved for the worst of the worst. No doctors would treat him. They tried to talk to him through the reinforced glass and he'd either ignore them or mock them mercilessly.

This was the man she was going to see. The man he was sure she'd been having an affair with.

"Well, we've got a deal then." Samantha said, interrupting his thoughts.

"I'll call you as soon as I get a good time for you to come." Gordon told her and they shook hands.

He showed her out of his office and watched as she talked to a young man waiting on a bench for her. He stood up, gave her a light kiss on the lips and they left the MCU hand in hand.

_'Must be her boyfriend. Wonder what the Joker will think of _that?' he thought, shaking his head. Hopefully he wouldn't find out. Things had already been ugly enough.

-------------------------

**A/N: **Haha, oops. Sam's moving on. This won't go over well.

Sam and the Joker were talking about Crane a few chapters back, about how he was in Arkham, and he was kinda nonchalant about it, like 'oh no big deal.' He'd been planning on getting to him the whole time.


	32. Chapter 32

**CHAPTER THIRTY TWO**

"Thanks for coming with me." Samantha said as they walked through the MCU's parking lot.

"No problem. I wouldn't let you go alone, you know that. This is hard for you."

She smiled wanly at him. Eric. Jack's polar opposite. Laid back, sweet, gentle. Exactly what she needed. "Yeah, but you've made it easier. Without you this would be a nightmare."

She'd met Eric at the bookstore. He was a frequent customer and at first they'd said little to each other. Then she noticed he was coming in more and more often, talking to her more than usual. Finally he'd asked her out and she had accepted, albeit reluctantly. He was twenty-four, ten years younger than her, and she'd figured that might be a problem for him. When she'd brought up the issue of their age difference he was surprised. He'd thought she was twenty-seven or twenty-eight. One small consolation to her was that she still looked much younger than she actually was. The stress of the past few months had aged her inwardly but not outwardly. They'd begun dating and had hit it off, despite the fact they were both very different.

Eric reminded her of Jack when she'd first met him at the factory. They looked similar, although Eric's eyes were hazel and not the brownish black of Jack's eyes. Eric wasn't as tall and he had a much lighter disposition than Jack ever had. No, there was nothing very deep or mysterious about Eric and that was how she wanted it. He was safe, dependable and very very vanilla. His idea of a wild time was when she got on top. He was the type of guy who would want to get married and have kids soon and Samantha wanted no part of either of those things. Kids were loud, messy and too much responsibility and marriage was a trap. Hell, she couldn't even have kids, endometriosis had fixed that for her, but she hadn't told him yet. She knew she'd get bored with him, that she'd distance herself from him in the end, but she still liked him. After everything that had happened he was a welcome change.

He linked an arm around her waist and she let him. She had never been comfortable with human contact but she was learning to like it. When they'd first started dating she'd hurt his feelings a few times. He'd hug her, she'd stiffen up. He'd kiss her, she'd instinctively pull away. Finally they sat down and had a long talk about it and worked things out. She'd had to explain that it wasn't him, it was just part of her personality. That much was true. She didn't mention her guilt. _He_ was always in the back of her mind. _His_ name and face replayed on an endless loop that she couldn't quite manage to stop. Always there, under her skin, in her blood, never letting her forget.

_Did you really think you could just put him out of your mind? Are you going to cast him aside now that he's been caught?_

On the night she'd gotten shot he hadn't left her to die. Gordon had told her, in a bewildered voice, that when they caught him he was standing over her unconscious form. Just standing there. He'd been looking down at her, still as a statue. He'd seen the cops rushing at him, guns drawn, and he still hadn't moved. He had stayed right there and let them take him down without a fight. She didn't know what to make of it.

_Don't romanticize it Sam, you'll just disappoint yourself if you do. He wanted to get caught and that's all._

_You're just a part of the scenery to him, nothing more._

She didn't really believe that. She told herself that as a way to keep herself sane, to keep the grief and longing at bay. But the words of denial always rang hollow.

Eric stopped walking and she looked at him curiously. "Something wrong?"

"No. Nothing at all. You're just....you're just so awesome, you know?"

She looked away and laughed. His compliments always made her feel embarrassed. "Yeah I know. You just now figuring that out?" she teased.

"Nah. I knew it all along." he answered and kissed her.

-----------------------------------------------

Two men watched them from a plain white van. One of them sat in the passenger side with a camera, the other sat in the driver's side with a laptop.

"Hey wow, you see that? That's her! Kissing some guy. You're getting that, right?" The driver sat up eagerly.

"Yep. That might add some extra scandal. Things have been dull lately."

They were with GCN and as the Joker's trial drew closer they'd been watching Samantha, Gordon and other major players closely. This was going to be Gotham's trial of the century and they weren't about to miss out on anything juicy. A tipster in the MCU had filled them in that Samantha would be at the building that day. Lucky break that they'd caught her with a guy.

"Joker's girlfriend huh?" the cameraman snorted. "Doesn't look like it to me. Who's that guy she's with anyway?"

"Ahh, some nobody. Who cares? I doubt she was ever the Joker's girlfriend, or lay, or anything else. I doubt he gets off on women. He probably likes animals or some sick shit. But it'll give the public something to talk about and things are slow now. Gordon and his media blackout. Tightass."

"Well we got _something_ interesting for tonight's Joker story anyway. Haha I can see it now....'Has the Joker's girlfriend found love again?' Brilliant"

"Brilliant but tacky. Too bad GCN would never run a story like that. And imagine this....what if she _had_ been fucking the Joker and he saw the story on tv? Can you _imagine?"_

"Oh holy shit. I don't even want to imagine. Think they let him watch tv in the nuthatch?"

"Doubt it. Heh, let's hope not anyways. Cause if they did.....that poor guy she's with might be royally fucked."

"Oh well. Them's the breaks."

"Indeed."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Samantha lay against Eric's shoulder as they watched tv at his apartment. He'd made a huge spaghetti dinner and now she was full, comfortable and half asleep.

"Oh wow Sam, look at this." Eric said, startling her awake.

The evening news was on. They were doing a piece on the Joker's upcoming trial. Mixed into the footage was film shot of her and Eric leaving the MCU after her meeting with Gordon. What she saw made her seethe in anger. They'd gotten them holding hands and Eric kissing her deeply before they got into his car.

"Sonofabitch." she swore. "I didn't see a cameraman. Did you see one?"

"No. I wish I had. Those guys are scum. Vultures. They'll do anything to get ratings." Eric's normally soft voice was tight with anger.

Samantha had never told him the extent of her and Jack's relationship. Just that they had been friends long ago and he had come back into her life as the Joker. To her shock he'd never asked her if she'd slept with him. She wasn't sure if it didn't matter to him or if the idea of her having sex with the Joker was just too disturbing to even consider.

"Why can't they just leave you alone?" he said. "You've paid your dues."

'_Not yet I haven't.' _she thought. _'Not yet.'_

_-----------------------------------------------------_

The orderly wheeled the tv down the hall of Level Three. As he passed the cells that lined each wall the residents within would yell or make animalistic noises at him. He'd always thought of this place as a sort of zoo, full of insane monkeys. He reached the end of the hallway and stopped in front of the Joker's cell.

_'And here's the leopard in the monekyhouse.' _he thought absently.

"Okay Mr. J. The shrinks said to give you a tv. It'll give you something to look at besides the walls." He tried to sound cheery but he felt anything but.

The Joker merely stared at him in that frightening way of his. He didn't move. Not a muscle. Might as well have been a sculpture. The orderly swallowed nervously. He hated being anywhere near him. The guy scared him shitless. He'd stare at you and never say anything most of the time. His eyes would follow every move you made, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. Made you wonder what he was thinking. And if he _did_ say something it was almost always taunting or unpleasant.

He didn't tell the Joker but the shrinks also thought the tv might make him more liable to talk. Especially if they put it on GCN's 24 hour news channel. They thought he might get excited over something blowing up and want to say something. He thought it was a terrible idea but would they ever listen to him? Of course not. He didn't have a degree so his opinion didn't matter. Those shrinks had some really odd ideas.

He plugged the tv in, turned it on, adjusted the cart it sat on and glanced sideways at the Joker. "All done. Enjoy."

With that he hurried off.

The Joker rolled his eyes as soon as the orderly was gone and fixed his gaze on the tv. He watched, face impassive.

A segment about him came on and he perked up a little, but not too much. There were cameras on him. Wouldn't want them thinking they'd gotten a rise out of him.

He was pleased at the indecision he'd caused, at the fear. The trial date was in danger of being pushed back again. No one wanted to testify against him. Jurors were proving incredibly hard to find. No one wanted to pass judgement on him. And for good reason.

And then.........

His fists clenched reflexively. He stared at the screen with narrowed eyes. Despite himself he leaned forward. The images on the screen danced in front of his face. Rage jolted through him and he almost lost it completely before he regained control. A smile played across his scarred lips.

_Samantha. Oh Sam, you really don't know what you're doing, do you? But you will know. Yes...you will. _

_You think you can just move on that easily? Told ya, we're not done and you know we're not. Can't get rid of me that easy. You don't want to get rid of me and we both know that. Just gonna take a little push and you'll see. Yeah, you'll see. _

His mind whirred along, ideas came to him. The images went away and he relaxed, as much as he was able to anyway. Problem was it was replaying the news. The same episode every half hour. All night. Each time the segment came on he tried to look at the wall, at the space above the tv, at anything but her with that guy. But his eyes always went back. He couldn't look away.

He'd call his lawyer tomorrow and talk to him. Send a little message along. That would fix things up quite nicely.

--------------------------------------------

**A/N:** If I were Eric I think I'd take a little trip to oh...the moon or something. I hear it's nice this time of year.

Also just a small note. In my other stories the Joker's cell in Arkham had a 1 way type glass lining the front. People could see in but he couldn't see out. I changed it in this story so he can see out. It was a necessity for what I have in mind.


	33. Chapter 33

**CHAPTER THIRTY THREE**

_Two days later_

Eric lay on top of her, panting softly.

"I'm getting close." he whispered. "Are you?"

_Not even a little._

"A little bit more." she answered. She wanted to, God did she want to. But she couldn't quite do it. Something was wrong, something was missing.

_Oh, wonder what the problem could be? Have you ever been able to come with Eric without thinking of Jack?_

No she hadn't. That disturbed her. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair to poor Eric at all. But she had to do it. Otherwise she'd never get to sleep and she had a big day tomorrow. She shut her eyes, blocking out Eric's voice and all thoughts of him and replacing them with _him._ _His_ voice. Of how rough he was. His teeth on her skin. Of how vicious yet absolutely attuned to her he'd always been. His hot breath as he whispered in her ear, saying things that made her half insane with lust. The urgency, as if the sex between them had been a matter of life or death.

And as always, it worked.

'_I shouldn't have done that.' _she thought afterwards. _'Not when I'm going to see him tomorrow.'_

Gordon had called earlier that evening, asking her if she could come to Arkham the next day.

"Can you be there in the morning?" he'd said and those words had sent her into a tailspin.

"Yeah. I'll call work and take a sick day." she'd said casually, fingers tightly gripping the telephone receiver the whole time.

"Be there at nine. I'll be waiting for you. Dr. Peloni is the head doctor over at Level Three. He'll be there too. You'll go through a metal detector and you'll have to empty your pockets. Don't wear any jewelry and leave your purse in your car. Just bring your ID. Okay?"

"Okay."

She couldn't deny that she was excited. It was wrong, it was even a little twisted. But it was also true.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Coffee Samantha?"

Dr. Mitchell Peloni was a small elderly man with thinning gray hair, thick glasses and a cautious expression etched into his face. His smile was pleasant and genuine. Samantha found it hard to believe he

could still smile like that after working at Arkham for thirty years.

"Yes. I'll take some. Thanks."

Dr. Peloni, Gordon and herself were in the faculty room. They were giving her the rundown on what to expect, what not to do and anything else they could think of. They were obviously as apprehensive as she was and this calmed her. At least she wasn't alone.

Dr. Peloni prattled on and Samantha listened to him intently. The man sure could talk but he was quite endearing.

"He's caused so much trouble here. After the Crane incident this place was a three ring circus. We could get no peace. People constantly wanting to come and gawk at him. Lovesick women, the morbid, college students wanting to do their papers on him, people who thought he was some sort of hero. Naturally we turned them all away. Did you know that Bruce Wayne himself came to see him?"

"_Bruce Wayne?" _Samantha gasped. When she was younger she'd had a hopeless crush on him and still thought he was one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen.

"Yes! Can you believe that? Now why would _he_ want to see the Joker? Well, there was the whole fundraiser debacle.....maybe he was interested to see the man who'd ruined his party. Honestly, who knows what these rich people think? I did allow him to see him. I figured it wouldn't do to get on the richest man in Gotham's bad side. Donations, you know? Anyway, we've had to hire extra staff because of the Joker and we don't even have the budget for it. But he's so interesting. So ......you knew him?"

The doctor was obviously fascinated by the Joker and asked her questions he already knew the answer to. As nice as he was to her Samantha knew that she was a subject to the doctor. A potential key, a link to a man that couldn't be examined..

She took a sip of coffee. It was surprisingly good, especially considering the coffeemaker it was made in looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since the 1950's.

"Yes. I did."

"Was he always like.....the way he is now?"

"No not really. He was...calmer. More normal I guess you could say. Very quiet. But even back then he....made people skittish. He had an intensity about him."

"I see. And you have no idea how he got his scars?"

Gordon was silent throughout this exchange but he was watching her closely.

"No. Not a clue. When he came back as the Joker was the first time I saw them. He never told me how he got them. When I asked he laughed at me. You know how he is, if he doesn't want you to know something you're not gonna know it. So I let it go."

She had lied to the police repeatedly about this. It just didn't feel right to tell them the truth. She didn't know why she felt so strongly about it but she knew it would be a betrayal of Jack. His scars were of no importance to his case. People's curiosity over them was sheer morbidity and she felt protective over the story of how he got them. It was something between them that no one else knew and she wanted to keep it that way.

"Well, enough chit chat." Gordon interjected. He looked at his watch. "Ready to go Samantha?"

"Yes." she answered simply.

_Time to take that plunge._

----------------------------------------------------

They stood in the control room, looking at a wall of surveillance screens. A bored looking guard sat at a nearby desk, ignoring them. Peloni pointed at one of the screens.

"See this Samantha? This is where you'll be. His cell is on the left, at the end. We keep him away from the others in a specially built observation room. Unlike the other cells his has a sheet of reinforced safety glass across the front. He can see out, you can see in. Oh and by the way, we will not be able to hear your conversation nor will your conversations be recorded. Whatever you two talk about is of no importance to us."

'_I seriously doubt that.' _Samantha thought. _'You may not be able to hear us but I'm sure you'll be dying of curiosity. Gordon too.'_

"Now, when you go down the hallway to his room stay towards the center. DO NOT go near the doors. We gave the other inmates a...tranquilizer with their breakfast, so they should be quiet and well behaved."

Samantha and Gordon both looked incredulously at him and he shrugged. "These men haven't seen a woman in a long time. There are no female inmates in Level Three. We have a woman doctor but she never goes into the hall. The sight of a woman, especially an attractive one, could send them into a riot. At the very least they'd be liable to yell unpleasant things at you. You have to understand...many of these men are sex offenders. It's just a precaution."

"Thanks for that info." Samantha murmured. This wasn't helping her nerves at all. "How long before their happy pills wear off?"

Dr. Peloni chuckled. "A couple of hours. You'll be long gone by the time that happens. Everything be fine dear. As for the Joker....you're as used to him as anyone. I trust you'll be able to hold your own against him. Daniel." He pointed at the guard. "and Gordon and I will be watching on the monitors. There's an intercom on the wall across from his cell. If you need anything just press the button and talk. And I think we're ready. Any questions?"

"So this is safe, right?" Samantha said. "This place looks tighter than Fort Knox but still....."

"Perfectly safe." Dr. Peloni assured her. His smile was warm and contagious and Samantha couldn't help but feel better.

"Oh one last thing. Nearly forgot."

"What's that?"

"His lights are on a remote dimmer so he can't turn them on and off himself. We turned the lights down to see if that would make him sleep. He hardly ever sleeps and I wonder if that might have a lot to do with his....problems. Anyway, we're having trouble getting them to come back up. His cell will be a bit dim at first but don't be alarmed. Daniel should have it fixed shortly."

"Alright." she said, shrugging.

"You're a tough woman aren't you?" Dr. Peloni remarked. "That alone would have most people, me included, spooked."

"I told you she was a strong one." Gordon said proudly and Samantha wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"I'm not that tough. But I've seen a hell of a lot worse than dark cells." she told them with a grim smile.

-------------------------------------

Dr. Peloni punched a code in and the huge steel door swung open. Two armed guards were on the other side, looking at her impassively. Beyond them she could see a long corridor. Cell doors lined each side. And at the end of that corridor a dead end.

Dr. Peloni motioned for her to go and she complied.

"You'll be fine. We'll be right here the whole time." he said and the door shut behind her.

The guards were as still as wax sculptures. She stepped past them silently and made her way down the hall. The air was humid and she could see condensation on the concrete block walls. They'd been painted white at one time but it was peeling off, revealing the gray underneath. Above her flourescent lights buzzed behind their protective grids. The cement floor was gritty beneath her tennis shoes.

She was careful to stay towards the center and she was keenly aware of every sound behind the cell doors. Behind one someone was humming an unknown tune. Snores drifted from another. For the most part it was quiet. Her own footsteps were the loudest sound in the corridor.

The closer she got to the dead end the faster her heart beat. She was trembling and furiously admonished herself for it.

_Calm. Calm. Calm. Remember your confidence. You opted to do this. You can handle this. You've handled much worse. Now get in there and do it._

Finally she was there. A metal fold out chair had been placed in front of his cell but she didn't sit down just yet. The entire front of his cell was one enormous sheet of safety glass, shiny and smooth.

For a moment she merely stood there, under the harsh light, hoping her eyes would adjust so she could see in. After a moment they did but it didn't help much. She could make out vague outlines. A table. A chair.

"Well.....hello there." the sound of his voice made her jump slightly.

"Hi." she answered.

"Soooo....you gonna sit down?"

"In a minute." she responded. It bothered her that he could see her so clearly but she couldn't see him. He sounded only a few feet away from her.

"They're trying to get me to sleep." he giggled. "They must have, ah, forgotten to turn them back up. Nothing I can do about it. They're on a remote."

"Yeah, they told me."

A long silence. She heard a faint rustling.

"Hmmm....don't you look.....beautiful." His voice sounded closer. "Your hair's not tied back. You've got make-up on."

"Yes." She rarely wore make-up, mostly due to laziness. But this morning she'd put it on, knowing why she was doing so and feeling vaguely ashamed. She did it because she wanted to look good for him. She wanted him to be impressed, to think she was beautiful.

_Christ Sam, what has he done to you?_

"Can't remember ever seeing you wear it. I like it. I like it a _lot._"

Suddenly she could see him, he was right against the glass and she instinctively backed up a step.

"I've worn it, just not enough to tell." she said lamely.

His eyes roved over her and the feral glint in them made her shiver.

"My God you're fucking gorgeous. Ya know that? Huh? You've always looked good but damn....."

"Thanks." she answered nonchalantly. "I've been told I clean up good."

"That's an understatement. Why don't ya come closer?"

"You know I'm not supposed to do that."

"Just stay away from the food slot." he motioned to a small opening where they slid his meals in. "Come to the other end. It'll be safe. Promise. I just want to get a closer look at ya."

Despite her better judgement she went to the other end, away from the slot. He moved alongside her the whole time and stopped when she stopped.

"Now....." he said. "C'mere."

She knew they were watching her, knew how it would look and she still did it. She moved close to the glass and he did the same. In the muted light of his cell his eyes were obsidian sparks, darting here and there, moving over her greedily.

-----------------------

"Christ." Gordon sighed. "What is she doing?"

Dr. Peloni shrugged. "She really shouldn't be doing that but as long as she stays away from the meal slot.....How are his lights coming Daniel?"

"Got it Doc." the guard said. "He should be lit up now."

------------------------------------

The lights abruptly blinked on and she found herself staring right at him. She blinked, momentarily blinded, and he laughed.

"Looks like they got 'em fixed." he said.

She looked up at him. This was the first time she'd seen him in six months and she was shocked at the sight.

The green was out of his hair, it was now nearly the same shade as her own. He looked thinner. Institutional food obviously didn't agree with him. His eyes were sunken, skin pallid. Under the unforgiving light his face took on a death's head appearance and it reminded her of his Joker make-up. And despite it all he had an eerie beauty.

"I know. I know. I look like shit." he remarked. "The food here is awful."

"It must be bad." she said. "You ate some pretty nasty stuff from my refrigerator and liked it. I'd hate to see what you wouldn't eat."

"Trust me...it's bad."

"So how have you been?" she asked. She really wanted to know. There was a part of her that worried about him, as insane as that was.

"Been better. The question is....how have _you_ been?"

"I'm hanging in there." she answered, a little surprised he was even asking.

"The gunshot?" He looked down at her leg.

"Pretty good. The bullet scraped bone and I've got a scar. Other than that I can walk fine. In a few months my limp will be gone."

"Good. Good. Is your, ah, little _habit_ taken care of?"

"Yes. I get them legitimately now. My doctor writes me a prescription for leg pain." she grinned wryly.

She started to sit down and he motioned for her to stop. "No. No. Not yet. Stand there for a little while longer. I wanna look at you like this. Close."

He sounded different and she guessed they kept him on medication. The thought saddened her in an odd way. She told herself it was for the best and this way he couldn't hurt anyone or himself but it still seemed so _wrong._

He lifted a hand and caressed the glass langourously, tongue darting over his lips. The action made her feel weak inside, made her want to say things she knew she shouldn't.

"So....do you know why I wanted you to come?" his voice was a low purr, full of insinuation.

"No. Not really."

A smile stretched across his face, pulling the scars taut. "Well.....I wanted to see you. I knew the only way they'd let you come was if I promised to give 'em something. And it worked. Here you are. Did ya miss me Sam? Hm?"

"Yes." she said. No point in being coy. She didn't have it in her. Not with him this close, after not seeing him for six months.

"Six months....is a _very_ long time. Isn't it?" he whispered. His body pressed against the glass, as if he were trying to push himself against her in spite of the barrier.

_I swear he can read my mind. Jesus. I can't take this. Five minutes and I'm going down. He's pulling me in and I can't stop. Don't want to stop it. This will never end. And I don't even think I want it to._

So much for moving on.

"Yes it is." she answered, never letting her gaze waver from his.

"Mmm-hmm. So I guess you could be for-given if you.....had to go somewhere else."

A horrible sinking feeling as she realized what he meant. "What do you mean?" she asked, refusing to fall for any tricks.

"Look behind ya. They moved it out of the way for your chair." his eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement.

She turned and looked. In her trepidation she hadn't even noticed it. Pushed against the far wall sat a wheeled cart with a television atop it.

-----------------------------------------

**A/N: **I knew Samantha taking up with that Eric fellow (who was also in "Irredeemable", albeit very briefly. Also, Dr. Peloni was in "Chasing Torment". I get a kick out of bringing minor characters back. No idea why) wouldn't be a popular idea but I looked at it like this: She's lost a lot. Brian. Jack/Joker. Her privacy. Her job. She's alone. However, I couldn't picture her laying in bed every night and crying into a Joker pillow. I knew she'd do something to try and take her mind off of her problems and to fill the emptiness. She's not self destructive enough to turn to harder drugs. She's not gonna blame the world for her problems and turn evil. She's not gonna take up knitting. She knows this guy isn't right for her (although Eric is certainly a sweet character) but she's fond of him and he's there for her. Does she love him? Heh, what do you think?


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR**

Samantha weighed her options and realized she had none.

"Why do you even have a tv anyway?" she muttered, more to herself than him. She eyed the intercom button on the wall, wondering if she should just tell the doctor and Gordon she was ready to leave.

"Want to know what channel they put it on? GCN's twenty-four hour news. I think they're trying to bait me Sam...what do you think?"

She didn't answer him, didn't look at him.

_You do know that Eric's probably as good as dead now, right? _

"Hm? What was that Sam? I didn't hear, uh, what you just said?"

She could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"That's because I didn't say anything." she said dully.

"How is, ah, _Eric_ anyway?"

She shut her eyes in defeat. "Jack...don't do anything to him. Don't hurt him."

That was the wrong thing to say. He made a snorting noise that sounded as if it had been ripped from the back of his throat.

"_Don't hurt him?_" he mocked. "How could I do that when I'm _in here?_"

"You know what I mean." she said, eyes still closed. "You could have one of your people do something to him and I'm asking you not to. Please. He doesn't realize. If you want to do something do it to me."

"Why would I want to hurt you? No....no...no....I understand Sam. Really I do." There was a raw edge in his voice that indicated he didn't understand, not at all, and that he was dangerously close to one of his rages. "Open your eyes and look at me. Stop hiding."

She did and saw that he was pacing back and forth leisurely, keeping close to the glass. His eyes never left her.

"Did Gordon tell ya what I was doing when they caught me?"

"Yes."

"How much have ya told _Eric_? Let me guess.....that we were friends."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I told him." she answered. "Look, you don't have a claim on me. You don't own me and I would have thought _you_ of all people would be above jealousy. Do you have any fucking idea what I've been through in the past few months? No...you don't."

"I'm not an animal Samantha. I know you were upset."

"Upset? Yeah, that's one way of putting it. At the end of my rope would be another way."

He stopped his pacing and glared at her. "I told ya not to go to the Narrows and what did you do? You went. You can blame yourself for what happened."

"Oh I _do._ Every day. It was a fuck-up, I admit. I just..." she stopped herself, seeing where she was going.

"You just what?" He knew exactly what she'd been about to say but he wanted to hear it.

_Damn him. Damn him._

"I was worried. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You'd been gone for a week and I......" she sighed and shook her head. "You know what? Fuck it. I won't stand here and feed your ego, and humiliate myself in the process. It was stupid, Brian is dead because of it and I'm done talking about it. You can bitch all day long about how I should have listened to you. Doesn't change a goddamn thing."

"Fine." he anwered. "I just think it's funny ya know.....that you have such a hard time admitting your...ah...._feelings_."

"My feelings? Jesus, what have they done to you in here?" she couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

He smiled back at her and this time it lacked malice. "I know I know. Terrible isn't it? Too much time to think, too many drugs. But don't worry....I'm not going _soft_." He flopped down on his flimsy cot and added. "Not for you anyway."

The innuendo wasn't lost on her but she chose to ignore it. "Good to know." she remarked, taking a seat in the chair. "Cause if you did that I'd never be able to respect you. You'd have to settle for some wide-eyed little piece that says stuff like 'Oh golly Mistah J!' and so on."

He chuckled. "And then I'd have to toss her off a high building. You know me Sam....I like conflict. I like it. And you.....well you've just got all kinds of conflict in you. You're a coiled spring...just waiting to sn-ap." At that last word he made a breaking motion with his hands.

"I'm sure it seems like that but I'll be fine. I've been on a high-wire for a long, long time now....but I always manage to keep my balance."

"How long do you think you can manage that Sam? Hm? Everyone has that point....that point where they just....give in."

She didn't answer him. His words echoed thoughts she had nearly every day but she wasn't going to let him know that. There was an urge inside her to cast it all away, to just _go_ and _do_. It was something intangible, difficult to put into words. It was a ghostly yearning in the middle of the night. She'd lay there in the comfortable dark, Eric asleep next to her, and could hear it. A siren call, pulling her to....something. That was the problem. She didn't know what she was being pulled to, what it was she wanted so badly.

Jack knew exactly what it was. Samantha was sure of that.

'_You can't give in._' she told herself. '_Whatever it is you can't let it take you._'

"Now....back to, uh, Eric." Jack said. "I was able to find out a lot about him. A little dull isn't he?"

_Should have known he wouldn't let it go that easily Sam. _

"He's normal. And what about him?"

"Where'd ya find him at? I mean c'mon. I bet he didn't know what hit him when _you_ got ahold of him. I know I didn't."

"I met him at work. As to the rest I can't say. He hasn't had any complaints." She smiled at him sweetly.

"Umm-hmm. I _bet_ he hasn't. At work huh? Got a habit of that, dontcha?"

"Look." she snapped irritably. "What did you expect me to do? Sit alone every night boo hooing into my pillow? I was in pain Jack. The guilt...you can't understand. When he came along I was a fucking shell of myself. Couldn't look anyone in the eye, was scared of everything. People stared at me and pointed on the street. And....I..." she took a deep breath and went on. "I missed you. That's right, I admit it. But I knew there was a good chance I'd never see you again."

Her eyes started to burn and she realized she was close to tears. Still she went on. He was a captive audience now. He couldn't go around sticking knives in her face and shoving her against walls. He was behind the glass so she didn't have to worry about sex distracting her. No, he'd listen and she'd talk.

"I couldn't forget about that night and seeing you caught. Wanna know what the hardest part was? You didn't leave me to die. No, you stayed right there with me and to this day I don't know what to make of that. Notice I'm not asking you why you did it, I know you'll never tell me. And Brian...Brian....he had to come along. Just had to. He was my best friend, did you know that? And you telling me not to die...that we weren't finished yet and I have NO FUCKING CLUE what any of this means. And I'm asking you to please leave Eric alone. He's innocent. I'm not."

Finally she stopped. One tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily..

_Well you just lost your shit there Sam. Nicely done._

He regarded her for a long time before speaking. "I never said I was gonna hurt him Sam. Just calm down. And what....you thought I'd just run away and let ya bleed to death? Really, that's just hurtful."

She couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Yeah, I figured you would. You told me not to go to the Narrows and I didn't listen. Kind of figured you'd be mad enough to do it."

He leaned forward. "I told ya not to come because I didn't want you to get hurt. I knew I had a snitch in my group and knew it was a matter of time til Gordon came for me. Which was fine....I wanted to get caught. Things were getting boring. But I never wanted you to get involved. You oughta know by now that I..uh..that I like ya. When I told ya you're the only person in this city who shouldn't be afraid of me...I meant that. Now...don't cry. It'll be okay. Hear me? Everything will be okay Sam."

Samantha stared at him in astonishment. He sounded so _sincere_. She had expected snarling threats, hateful words. Not this.

"I still miss you." she whispered sadly. "And I don't think I'll ever stop."

Those words seemed to agitate him. "I think our time is running out. They'll be coming for you soon. Next week when you come I'm gonna tell you a story." His eyes searched her face. "I think you'll like it."

The intercom came alive with the sound of static.

_"Time is up Samantha. The guards will let you out." _Dr. Peloni said.

"See? Oh, one more thing before you leave. I used to have this knife...a stiletto. Pearl handled. Beautiful. Sleek, fine lines. A real work of art. I loved that knife. Perfect for, ah, _working_ with. But I never wanted to use it. It was _too_ beautiful. Didn't want to get it bloody and dirty and dull even though it was made for killing."

Samantha frowned. "And?"

"And that's it. See you soon."

-------------------------------------

**A/N: **Ok, I had to get my little stab at Harley Quinn in this one with the whole "Oh golly Mistah J!" thing, LOL. And yes, the knife story at the end is a reference of sorts to Sam. However he has another story for their next visit.


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: **Ok this is kind of weird and random. I went to visit my mom today and had pulled off the road to let some people pass me (it was a 2 lane highway and I drive slow, ha) I happened to glance across the street and saw this little run-down abandoned house. Ok the strange part is I've always had this image of Sam's house in my mind and I'll be damned if this house didn't look EXACTLY like what I'd pictured. I'm talking identical. A tiny 1 story, old style house in a rural area. Just figured I'd share that, it was pretty odd.

Oh and the door was missing too! (Her door got beat in by the cops in the first story.)

**CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE**

"You okay?" Gordon asked her.

They were standing outside Arkham. It was a gray June afternoon, the air soupy with humidity. He could see a thin sheen of perspiration on the woman's face but he doubted it had to do with the weather.

When she'd first emerged from the corridor she'd looked like she'd just come out of the grocery store. Calm, cool, nonchalant. Typical Samantha. But as she got closer he could see that her eyes were red, her expression harried.

A pang of guilt assailed him. In his need for information he'd talked her into this and now she was the one that _had_ to sit down across from the Joker, _had_ to speak to him. True, she had accepted the offer quickly but who could blame her? A few visits to Arkham or a trial. Not just a trial but _the_ trial. The biggest trial Gotham had ever seen, or ever would see for that matter. And the press would have descended on her like hyenas, desperate for any scandalous tidbits. The incident at the MCU with her and Eric would be nothing compared to what they'd do to her.

No, she'd come out with a sweet deal.....but he still felt bad for her. The Joker had a way of both mocking and picking you apart simultaneously, of shaking your faith. Gordon had been a cop for many years and still been rattled by the man. It was hard to imagine how Samantha, a civilian, could cope with it for any length of time.

"He had a television." she told him. "Why would they do that?"

"Oh....hell." he sighed. "Did he see you and your boyfriend?"

"He sure did. According to him they put it on GCN's 24 hour news." She lit a cigarette and shook her head in disgust. "That's just so...irresponsible. I didn't know they could do that. I mean, he hasn't even been to trial yet." Her voice rose in anger and Gordon could see her struggling to keep it down.

"If you think Eric may be in danger I can arrange something. Temporary relocation, a guard. The higher ups won't like it but they'll learn to live with it."

She mulled it over for a second. "No. I'll handle it. He told me he wouldn't hurt Eric and he generally does what he says."

Gordon nodded. "Think you can do this again next week?"

"Yeah. How many times do I have to come here anyway? Has he said anything?"

"He hasn't given a definite number but he gave the impression of three or four. Look Samantha, I know this is hard for you but you have no idea how much this will help when he tells us........"

"I know. And don't be sorry." she smiled wryly. "Because I know you're working your way to saying it. I'm used to being caught in the middle."

He gave a short laugh, remembering her as a seven year old in the police station. The memory had faded until she told him who her parents were. Ben and Celeste Knight. Drug dealers with minor mob affiliations. Knowing who they were led him to the recollection of a kid awaiting her grandparents some twenty-seven years ago. To his surprise Samantha remembered him and given him a brief rundown on what had happened. When her father had left Samantha had taken her mother's maiden name of Dougall. Her mother had died a few years ago. Her dad was still gone. She hadn't seen him in twelve years. Gordon figured the man was dead. Ben lived on the edge, always had, and by now it had probably caught up with him.

"Well I am sorry. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. By the way, I won't be here for the rest of your visits. Don't get me wrong, I'd like to be. But my schedule......"

"I understand." she said. She tossed her half-smoked cigarette down and ground it into the sidewalk. "Well, I'm going home. Thanks for everything."

"Hey Sam. Things will work out. Everything will be fine." he assured her, although he wasn't certain he believed that

----------------------------------------------------

"He saw us?" Eric asked, puzzled. "Why the hell are they giving him a tv anyway?"

"I don't know. Maybe they think if he can watch the news he'll be more likely to talk."

She'd broken the news to him when he picked her up that evening. So far he was taking it well......but then again he didn't know Jack like she did.

_If he did he'd be packing his bags right about now._

"Well, I'm not going to let him intimidate me." he declared. "What does it matter to him if you're seeing someone anyway? If you two were just....acquaintances then it shouldn't be a big deal to him."

"I don't think he's that upset." she said, staring down at her hands. "He told me he wouldn't try to hurt you or anything."

She'd been dreading this conversation. The more she thought about it the more she came to realize what she had to do. Eric had taken her out to eat and she'd sat silent the entire time, picking at her food. The words had almost escaped her several times but then....she just couldn't do it. Eric was so earnest and sweet, she simply couldn't bring herself to go through with it.

_I like him. How can I do this?_

Now they were in his apartment, watching tv like they did most evenings and she still couldn't do it.

_Well if you like him you should have no problem doing it._

"You know, if you didn't have a house of your own I'd ask you to move in with me." he said abruptly.

_Aw shit._

She gave a short, nervous laugh and said nothing.

He stood up and began to dig in his pocket. "So I decided to buy you something. I know your birthday isn't until next month but I wanted to get it to...you know....to let you know how much I like you." His hand withdrew from his pocket and he pulled a box out.

Her eyes went from the box to his face. She hoped her expression wasn't one of horror because that was exactly what she was feeling.

"Open it." he said, handing the box to her. He looked both apprehensive and ecstatically happy.

She didn't want to but did anyway. With shaking hands she opened it. A ring. A blue stone surrounded by what she guessed were small diamonds. Nothing fancy but beautiful nonetheless. It was the type of ring most young men would get for their girlfriends.

"Wow Eric...that's nice." she said, feeling sick.

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd like it. I knew you didn't really wear jewelry but I wanted to get something special and that was it. I thought of you when I saw it." His voice was eager, face alight with happiness. "You know, just something to let you know how much I like you."

"Thanks...so much." she said, staring at the ring.

"Actually...well. Oh the hell with it. I was thinking about you today at work and I was so worried about you. And then I started thinking....she's so great. Smart, really pretty and...and laid back! You're not controlling, you don't play games like other girls I've went out with.... And it hit me....." He was babbling and that alarmed her..

_When men start babbling like that you can bet it'll be about something you'd rather not hear._

"What's that?" she murmured, feeling numb.

"I love you."

----------------------------------

**A/N: **LOL. Well then!

Oh and about the stiletto the Joker/Jack was talking about last chapter. We get knife catalogs at my work. I was looking through one and saw the most gorgeous mother-of-pearl handled Italian stiletto. The moment I saw it I thought "Wow, I've gotta work that knife that into my story!"

Everytime I see a neat weapon I automatically think of the Joker and try to find ways to incorporate it into a story. We've got a rock hammer at work (aka a geologist's hammer) that is the wickedest looking thing. One side is like a regular hammer but the other is a rather nasty looking spike. I ended up putting it into "Irredeemable". The Joker used it on David the necro cop. When you work in a hardware store you see all kinds of crazy things that can be used as weapons.

And no, I'm not insane. I just have a really boring job that gives me wayyyy too much time to think of bizarre stuff.


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: **This is a very short chapter. It sets the stage for what will happen next. I reached a point where I knew I had to stop so I could dedicate the next chapter to Sam's next visit to Arkham.

**CHAPTER THIRTY SIX**

Her first urge was to blurt out "Are you insane?" but she managed to hold the words back.

He was looking at her expectantly. Maybe he didn't expect her to echo his words but he expected _something._ Some kind of heartfelt revelation that she didn't have in her.

_You have to do this. NOW._

He didn't know anything about her. Not the real stuff, the stuff that mattered. He didn't know the truth about Jack, or the drugs, or her lack of plans for the future. No, he only knew the girl who played XBox games with him, the one who was untouched by matters of self esteem and manipulation.

_Now is the time for him to meet the whole package. If you care one iota about him you'll do it because he's not going away on his own and Jack will see him dead if he stays around. He'll think you're a horrible person but it'll be a small price to pay to keep him alive._

When Jack said he wouldn't hurt Eric she'd believed him...to a point. But she knew if he found out about Eric's gift and what he'd said.....well that might change things. And Jack could carry a grudge like no one else. He might leave Eric alone for a while. Maybe even years. But eventually he'd come after him.

_You don't love him anyway. With Jack in your life there's no room for anyone else. Might as well face it._

"Eric." she began, taking a long breath. "Sit down. We have to talk."

His face fell. He knew it was going to be bad.

_You don't know the half of it Eric. But you will._

----------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night she sat alone in her bedroom.

"Well, it's over." she said aloud. Indeed it was. She was confident that Eric would never want anything to do with her again.

She'd started by telling him that she and Jack had slept together. Quite a few times actually. And she'd went on to let him know about the pills. Then for good measure she informed him she didn't want kids or marriage and nothing would ever change her mind about that.

Through it all she'd kept her voice steady and kind. She was hurting him and didn't want to make it worse.

"Tell me." he'd finally said in a choked whisper. "When he came back as the...the...the Joker...did you sleep with him then?"

"Yes." she'd answered calmly and the pain written on his face made her heart ache.

She thrown away her chance at a normal life, perhaps her last chance, and had felt relief while she was doing it. No more worrying about Eric finding out through another means. He'd heard it from her, she had exposed herself for what she truly was.

"I'm sorry." she'd told him. "I know you think I'm a bitch for what I'm doing but it's for the best. He'd end up killing you if we stayed together. You have no idea what he's capable of. He's not just about blowing things up. No, he'd hurt you Eric and I really do like you. I don't want anything to happen to you. You deserve better than me and again I'm sorry."

That was true. Somewhere out there was a totally normal, nice girl looking for a nice guy to settle down with. No point in keeping him for herself. She couldn't figure out why he felt so strongly towards her anyway. Perhaps he was so used to Suzy Homemakers in the making that someone different blew him away.

At any rate it was over. All she could hope was that now Jack would forget about him.

Afterwards he'd walked away in shock and she'd called a cab to take her home.

--------------------------------

And now here she was. Alone. Her sadness over what she'd done to Eric was hindered by a sense of emancipation.

_What now? What's out there for me? Do I stay single for the rest of my life because of him? _

_I can see it now "Sorry Mr. Gorgeous Guy but I can't go out with you. You see there's this dude in Arkham, you might have heard of him. Well he doesn't want me seeing anyone, even though we never technically had a relationship, and he's half insane and spectacularly violent...so yeah....no go. Sorry." _

_What if you met that Bruce Wayne guy and he wanted to go out with you? Ok that would never happen, you're probably a little too.....scruffy for his taste. He's rich ya know. Anyway, that's just an example....would you tell him no? You'd have to! "Oh no Mr. Wayne, I'm saving myself for the Joker! You know him, crazy as a shithouse rat, wrecked your party, threw your friend out a window and blew her up, etc. Oh but he's sooo dreamy!"_

She snickered at the thought and chewed her thumbnail. Aimlessly wandering through life, never quite fitting in, always on the perimeter of normalcy. That would be her existence. Damnit, she just wanted to enjoy being alive, to not _worry. _She wanted to be happy.

_Don't be a victim. Change things. You know that idea you had after you got out of the hospital? Start planning, make it come to fruition. Cause if you don't do something you'll be in this same situation ten years from now. Do you want to long for him forever? He's not going anywhere, not unless he escapes which looks unlikely given the security of that place. Enough of this feelings horseshit. Do what you've gotta do, save yourself and to hell with him. Leave him behind._

"But I can't do that." she said aloud and shook her head in exasperation. Now she was answering her inner voice. _Out loud._ As crazy as it was to answer yourself it was still true. She couldn't leave him behind.

**-----------------------------------------------**

**A/N: **So Eric is outta there. Next chapter Sam has her next meeting with the Joker and learns a few things.

I hope I didn't make her too loopy this chapter. I'm basically trying to illustrate she's at her wit's end. She drove Eric away and gave up any hope for a normal life (even though he was all wrong for her) and she feels bad for the way she wasn't straight with him. Of course there's another reason she broke it off with him that she never quite addresses. Which is her feelings for Jack/Joker. Eric just can't measure up to him. Who could? I don't mean anything dirty by that but now that I think of it he probably doesn't measure up to him in _that_ way either.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN**

Samantha had a seat on the metal chair and crossed her arms against the chill. The air conditioner system was on the fritz, sending an unending flow of cold air through the vents. Goosebumps covered her arms and she rubbed at them absently.

"Ahh, there she is," Jack was perched serenely on his cot, eyes moving over her in that now familiar way.

"Soo...how's Eric?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Cutting right to the chase aren't we?"

"What.....you mean you don't know how your boyfriend is doing?" he sneered.

_Damn. He already knows. How could he have found out?_

"Because we're not seeing each other anymore," she answered coolly.

"Aww...that's sad Sam. _Really_ it is. So, uh, what happened?"

He was smiling but it didn't touch his eyes. Their cold glare pinned her down.

"We were just too different," she said.

"Oh I think there's more to it than that. C'mon, what happened?"

"I think you already know," she snapped. "So stop playing games."

He got up from the cot and stretched lazily. "Okay....I'll admit it. I _do_ know. But I don't really know what prompted ya to do humor me."

"Fine. I decided he wasn't safe being with me. I was afraid you'd have something done to him."

He approached the glass and crouched down so he was almost eye level with her. "Nonono. I wouldn't have gotten my guys to do anything to him," he whispered, teeth bared in a vicious smile. "I would have done it to him _myself_."

Samantha shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Well now you won't have to worry about it. He's gone."

"How did ya break it off with him? Did ya tell him....things?"

"Yes. I did," she responded, tiring of the game. "I told him everything. Haven't seen him since."

He gave a satisfied laugh and edged closer to the glass. "Didya...didya tell him we used to....._fuck_?" he snarled.

"Yeah I did," she said matter of factly. "And I told him about the pills and how I wanted no part of his little dream of domestic bliss."

"Hmm. I'm guessing he didn't take it too well."

"Of course not. He went stomping off and I called a taxi to come get me. End of story." She thought of what Eric had said and of the ring. The ring had been sitting on the sofa when she left. She hoped he'd be able to get his money back.

His tongue moved over the scar on the bottom of his lip and he narrowed his eyes. "One day he might thank you for that."

"That's what I keep telling myself."

"You don't seem too happy Sam. You're so serious. Is it because of _him_? You know you would have gotten bored with him. Or is it because of _me_?"

"A little bit of both I think," She leaned back in the seat and regarded him with a grim smile. "I just can't win, you know? Here lately it seems like all I do is fuck up."

"Nah. Don't look at it like that. You're finally seeing things, really _seeing_ things for what they are. Tell me, how did you feel after you dumped him? I bet ya felt relieved didn't ya? Yeah, you did. I can tell. See, a guy like him...he won't ever accept you. You were just a novelty to him. A diversion til he found some cute little blonde he could bring home to mommy and daddy."

"Yeah, I thought the same thing," she admitted. "But I still did him pretty shitty. Not telling him how I really am. At the time I met him I needed someone to be around and I knew if I was honest...well if I was honest with him he'd want nothing to do with me. Never dreamed it would escalate to the point it did."

How easily she was confiding in him. She'd went from feeling angry and wary to feeling comfortable with him. To her wonderment she actually _wanted _to divulge her thoughts to him now.

"So what happened? Might as well spill it Sam."

"First you have to promise to leave him alone," she said firmly. "He's gone, out of the picture. There is no reason to hurt him now."

He sucked on the inside of his cheek noisily. He obviously didn't want to make any promises regarding Eric but she had his curiosity aroused. "Okay then," he finally muttered. "Now...out with it."

"He told me he loved me. And got me a ring. Not an engagement ring, just a gift."

He erupted into gales of laughter, eyes wide with delight. "Oh, ah, Sam...you've got to be fucking kidding me!" he whooped. "Ya mean to tell me that stupid bastard got you a _ring_? He didn't know you too well, did he? Did he get ya a _teddy bear_ too?"

Samantha watched him in amusement, trying not to smile. Finally she gave in. Looking back she could see the absurdity of the whole ordeal and before she knew it she was chuckling and shaking her head.

"If he really wanted to get on your good side he would have bought you a pair of handcuffs," Jack giggled and fell into fresh bursts of laughter. "I mean...c'mon Sam...you're _sad_ about _him_? You did yourself a favor...really you did. He would have killed you through sheer mediocrity."

"If I'd known then what I know now........" she said when her laughter faded.

"Now, before our time runs out.....do you remember what I said last week...about telling you a story?" His mirth was gone and now he seemed pensive.

"Oh yeah...I'd forgotten all about that." She leaned forward expectantly, elbows resting on her upper legs.

Jack settled onto the floor in a cross legged position. Samantha was struck how companiable they now looked, a master criminal and an ordinary woman with an unbelievable history together. Dr. Peloni was probably watching them right now and she wondered what he was thinking.

Jack's eyes studied the ceiling and his jaw worked restlessly.

"That knife I was telling you about. It was a gift from my father. I wanted to hate it because it came from him but I couldn't. The thing was just too beautiful to hate. After a while I didn't think of him when I saw it, just about how perfectly it fit in my hand, how sleek it was," his eyes rested on her face and she nodded at him to continue.

"But this isn't about the knife. My, um, my father was a big deal. A real pillar of the community. People feared him, respected him, groveled for his attention. And in return he treated everyone like shit. _Everyone_. His colleagues, me, my mom, his whores. Ya see dad was a drunk and he liked women. Well, didn't really like 'em....he really hated 'em but he fucked 'em all the time. If mom said anything he beat the shit out of her and she'd shut up about it for a while. Eventually she'd raise hell again 'cause deep down she liked to be beaten up. You could tell. He'd smack her around and her eyes...her eyes would get all big and shiny and she'd start breathing fast. Funny because she looked so ladylike. Just the perfect homemaker."

He smirked in disgust. His eyes were fixed on a wall but he wasn't seeing it.

"Soo anyway he'd go away on trips and come home a week later still drunk, broke and smelling like whores. And everyone knew what was going on but no one said anything. He could do anything he wanted 'cause he had power. Everyone else...they were just dogs to him. So one day this cop comes to the door. Says the neighbor's dog was in our yard and it carried a skull home. A tiny little skull. They wanted to search the area. Ya see a couple of little girls had went missing in the neighborhood. Turned out they were in our yard."

"Jesus Christ." Samantha whispered.

Jack continued in a flat voice. "My dad took 'em aside and told them it was me. I was crazy, he said. Not right in the head. Never had been right. So they took me in, questioned me. I told 'em I didn't know anything and I didn't. After a while they let me go. No evidence, the bodies were too rotted. When they let me go my dad told me if I said _anything_ he'd kill me, mom and himself. Turned out he killed the girls. He told me. Raped 'em and murdered 'em so they couldn't get him in trouble. He killed more they never found. But he told the cops I killed them. And you know what? My mom backed him up. Told them she could see me doing it. She _knew_ all along. She knew what he'd been doing. And she never said a word. Not. One. Word. I was, ah, sixteen at the time."

"Oh Jack. I'm so sorry. How could he do th......"

"No. Don't be sorry. See, my dad was a coward. What I am now....that's what he wished he could be. But he was too weak. The only thing he could control was little girls. After that I hated women. Surprised I ever got laid. When I did get laid I'd get this, um, urge to beat the woman's head in 'cause she made me weak. Like him. I always managed to stop myself though. I thought it would be the same way with you...but it wasn't. I didn't have to worry with you, didn't have to hold myself back. You were different. If I wanted to kill you you would have been dead a long time ago. You know that. No, I never want to hurt you Sam, unless you want it. And I never want you away from me. Ever."

His black eyes bored into her, fixated on her as if she were the only thing in the world. She was reminded of the Nietzsche quote about looking into the abyss. It was one she'd seen a hundred times, it had been used in movies, television shows, even a video game, but now she knew exactly what it meant.

_The abyss is looking into me. What does it see?_

"Do you understand now Samantha?" he asked. His voice was eerily quiet.

"Yes," she answered. "I understand."

She slid out of the chair and sat on the floor across from him. Neither of them said a word. And for the first time she wished the glass between them wasn't there.

------------------------------------------

A few days after the visit a strange package arrived in the mail. A small cardboard box. No return address.

She was hesitant to open it but curiosity got the better of her. The contents of the box took her breath away and for a long time she merely gazed at it with disbelieving eyes.

Lying on a bed of tissue paper lay the most beautiful pearl-handled stiletto she'd ever seen.

------------------------------

**A/N: **A lot of people's versions of the Joker have him as a kind of sex god, or at the very least a stud that humps nearly every woman in the story. My version has a lot of baggage towards sex, he sees it as a weakness and he's not comfortable with it. I kind of gave him a reason for that with the story of his dad. His dad is a real pig and I can see how that would mess him up. However, in my story, Jack was always messed up. His parents just made it worse.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: **So the end of the story is in sight now but there's still a little ways to go. Thanks for your reviews!

**CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT**

She kept the knife at her bedside and oftentimes caught herself staring at it. It was gorgeous, everything Jack had said it was and then some. There was a sinister beauty to it, the same beauty a venomous snake possessed. The thing was made for stabbing, cutting, destroying, but it was also a work of art. She could see why Jack had been reluctant to soil it.

Since their last meeting she spent most of her free time on her computer trying to find information on his father. Of course the search was to no avail, she had too little to go on. No names, no locations. Nothing but Jack's word. She wondered if he'd been lying, he'd been known to lie about the origin of his scars and it would be like him to toy with her emotions. But something told her his story was true. After he'd told her and she'd sat on the floor across from him he'd simply sat there, not looking at her. It seemed to her that he'd almost regretted telling her.

And why had he told her? By doing so he'd humanized himself, had shown an inordinate amount of trust in her. She'd kept the secret of his scars, now he expected her to keep this secret. And she would. She would take her knowledge to the grave and he knew it.

The story of his parents made her see him differently. It lent a tragic edge to him she'd never seen before and made it easier to understand his contempt for society and authority.

_How alone he must have been. He never stood a and years of loneliness and indifference. And then his parents turning on him. He was just a kid! My God, the things we do to each other, the pain we inflict on people we should love and for no better reason than to save ourselves, to entertain ourselves, to put up a front. Yes...I do understand Jack. And I'm afraid. I'm scared to death and more than anything I wish you were here. I'm crazy for that....and I don't care anymore. _

She dreamed of him and found herself wishing he were free. Since she'd driven Eric away it had become harder and harder not to think of Jack and the arrival of the knife had made it damn near impossible to put him out of her thoughts. The knife was a symbol. What it symbolized frightened her yet made her feelings for him even stronger.

She'd thought him incapable of the emotions most people take for granted. But now she had to rethink that. The story of his parents, the gift, him standing over her in the snow even as the cops bore down on him. It all came together into a puzzling picture

And so the plan she'd been going over since coming home from the hospital began to lose importance. She still made a few phone calls, tentatively gathering information in case she changed her mind. It was a big step...and a painful one at that.

_'This is a bad idea,' _she'd think to herself as she perused the yellow pages. _'You hate change. And what about Jack?'_

What about Jack? He was in Arkham and unless he escaped, which was looking very unlikely given the amount of guards and security, he'd never get out.

Still she held back, unwilling to commit to the plan.

Until the day her father showed up at her home.

--------------------------

She'd just gotten home from work and caught a buzz when the doorbell disturbed her.

Swearing quietly she'd peeked out the window. At first she didn't recognize him and was prepared to ignore him until he gave up and went away. But then he spoke to the girl he was with and she froze.

_Her father's voice. _The man who'd bailed on her mother years ago and simply vanished. How neatly he'd left his own daughter's life, so effortlessly and without conscience. A part of her had hoped he was dead, simply so she didn't have to believe he could have abandoned her.

But there he was.

Conflicted, she'd stood there for a full minute before answering the door.

"Oh my God...Samantha!" he gasped when he saw her. "Wow, don't you look good."

"Hi dad," she'd answered numbly. He looked terrible. His hair was completely gray, face leathery and drawn, eyes sunken in their sockets. He was painfully thin, he was wearing a t-shirt and Sam could practically see his ribs poking through the cotton fabric. Closer examination revealed the needle marks marring his tanned arms. They were in varying stages of freshness and the newest were concentrated on the insides of his elbows. The marks in that spot were especially bad, it looked as if he'd started using the same hole over and over.

_Oh dad, you never could resist the smack could you? And here you are, a fifty seven year old junkie._

"Well can we come in?" he asked, a hint of peevishness in his voice.

"Sure, sorry. I'm just so...shocked that you're here. Haven't seen you in so long."

"I know I know," he answered, following her into the house. "And I apologize for that. When I heard about your mother I meant to come see you but I was stuck in Florida..."

_In jail I bet._

"....and I couldn't make it. You've got the house looking nice. Never seen it look better. I'm so proud of you honey."

She perched on the edge of the couch and cocked her head curiously. "Proud? Because I painted the house?"

He laughed, his faded blue eyes twinkling. "No! Well it is great that you did that but I'm talking about how you were on the news."

"Oh...that. You saw that all the way in Florida?"

_Your daughter was screwing a madman. What's there to be proud of? Sheesh, my family, I tell ya._

"Yeah. That Joker stuff is big news everywhere. One of my old friends from Gotham told me about what had happened with the shootout and all. So I paid attention to the news about him after that. I saw them taking you to the hospital. I couldn't believe my girl was a part of that!"

He sounded excited and that disturbed her greatly and she decided to change the subject.

"So who's your...friend?" Samantha asked, motioning to the girl who was standing there quietly.

"Oh yeah. Shit my manners are awful. Get your ass over here Shelly." her dad said.

Shelly appraised Samantha with hard eyes as she shuffled over to them. She was in her early twenties but had a rough edge that made her look older than Sam. Her hair was an unnatural yellow color and looked as brittle as straw on a broom. She was also very very pregnant. Her swollen belly practically burst out of her skimpy tank top and her ass cheeks hung out of the denim cutoffs she was wearing. Flip flops covered her dirty feet.

_Charming. Wonder who the father of her kid is? Hmmm......whatta mystery._

Shelly threw a forced smile in Sam's direction. "Hi. Nice house. You look just like your dad you know."

It was supposed to be a compliment. Despite his deterioration Ben was quite handsome. In his younger days he had been so devastating that women had been known to literally known to throw themselves at him, much to her mother's consternation.

Samantha didn't like being compared with her dad and barely contained a wince at the girl's words.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Shelly and I are going to get married," her dad said proudly. "As you can see she's pregnant. Due in a couple of weeks. So soon you'll have a stepmother _and_ a baby sister."

Rage coursed through her and it was all she could do not to go off on him right then and there.

_Stepmother? This little white trash trick? And a sister. Thanks but no thanks...think I'll pass on that family reunion. Geez, poor kid is fucking doomed already and not even born yet._

"Stepmother huh? No, I don't think so. The only mother I have is dead. And I hope you're not expecting me to babysit," she tried hard to keep her voice calm but did a bad job of it.

"I was just kidding Sam," her dad said. "Don't take things so seriously. Hey I've got a favor to ask you. I'm almost out of H. Do you have anything? I mean, you party right? You'd _have_ to the way you grew up." He laughed heartily.

"No. I don't have a thing." Actually she had a whole bottle of pills in her purse but she wasn't about to give him anything.

"Oh. Well okay. Do you know anyone I can buy from? If you do I might have to borrow some money. I'm broke."

_Dear God make this fucker go away. I don't care if he is my dad. He's a fucking deadbeat leech and I'm fed up with him already._

She used to love this man more than life itself. Now in the clear, cold light of adulthood she saw him for what he really was. Now she loathed him.

"Nope. I don't know anyone," she answered coldly. She couldn't even look at him and kept her eyes on the tv.

"Oh. Well I guess we better be going. We're staying at a motel....."

_Don't you dare ask to stay here in my mother's house._

"And I'm gonna have to do some hunting or I'll be sick tonight," he laughed weakly, obviously trying to get her to feel sorry for him.

It didn't work. "Fine then, you two have a good night."

She crossed the room and opened the living room door pointedly. Her dad walked past her without a word and Shelly shot her a hateful look before following him outside. As the girl passed Samantha noticed she too had fresh track marks on her inner arms and behind her knees.

Revulsion and despair enveloped her and she slammed the door without saying another word.

---------------------------------

After that incident she decided to follow through with her plan.

_There's nothing here for me anymore._

Later that night she sat up in bed, the knife gleaming like a beacon in front of her. In a few days she'd go to see Jack, probably for the last time. Gordon would get his information and she'd be left to exist, to forever dream of Jack, to stare at the stiletto each night.

_It was a parting gift. He knows the end is coming. That's why he sent it._

She thought of Shelly's marks, of her baby, of Jack and his parents, of herself. She thought of her life, previously so calm and noneventful, now in shambles. A song came to mind and she mouthed the lyrics soundlessly.

_This is the last time I'll abandon you_

_And this is the last time I'll forget you_

_I wish I could........._

Guilt washed over her and she put the knife away.

-----------------------

**A/N: **This chapter kind of has themes of abandonment, hopelessness, and never having a chance throughout it. I also wanted to show the parallels of Jack and Sam's fathers. They are similar in some ways, although Sam's family life was like the Brady Bunch compared to Jack's.

The song Sam is thinking of is "Stockholm Syndrome" by Muse.


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER THIRTY NINE**

It was the morning of her visit with Jack and she sat in her kitchen sipping some exceptionally strong coffee before she had to leave. The meeting had originally been slated for two days ago but it had been postponed by Jack's attorney. An emergency appointment with his client, he'd said apologetically. Samantha figured it was just as well. If the meeting had gone as planned she'd now be sitting here with little to look forward to.

She looked at the calendar. It was the 4th of July, an odd day for a visit. Surprising that they'd even let her come to Arkham on a holiday. But, she thought, holidays probably didn't mean much in an asylum.

She downed the last of her coffee, checked her make-up and hair and headed out the door to see Jack for what might be the last time.

------------------------------

He was sitting on his cot placidly when she came to his cell.

"Hi there gorgeous," he said slyly when she was close. "Fuck, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

"Wow, hello to you too," she smiled, taken aback by his forwardness. "You seem to be in a good mood today."

"Why wouldn't I be? I get to see you and it's a holiday. _Independance day._"

She sat down on the metal chair and scooted forward. "Thanks for the gift. It was just as beautiful as you said."

"So you got it....good. I thought you might like it. A lot better than some trite ring..Wouldn't you say?"

"Definitely," she agreed.

He rose from his cot stiffly and approached the glass. It was then she noticed how painfully he moved and the exceptionally nasty bruise on the side of his face and jaw. Upon closer examination she saw his lip was split, the wound easy to miss due to the scars.

"Jack...what the hell happened?" she demanded, starting to rise from the chair.

He motioned for her to sit. "It's nothing Sam...really. Woke up the other night to find a big black _bat_ in my cell. He has a way of just...appearing, did ya know that? Anyway our reunion wasn't a happy one," he grinned in unabashed delight. "And he decided to rough me up a little bit. For someone so _moral_ he sure does like to beat the shit out of people. He's got all these rules you see, but he'd wipe out half the city to get to the bad guys." He snickered contemptously.

"Well why the fuck did he beat you up so badly?"

"Hm well.....he doesn't think I'm gonna keep my deal with Gordon. He's gotten this absurd idea that I'm playing games, that I just want to see you."

Samantha said nothing. She'd thought the same thing herself.

"They'll get their information," he continued, talking more to himself than her. "And then some."

"You mean to tell me they _let_ him come into your cell? That's a little unethical."

"This is Arkham," he snorted. "And they see me as subhuman. Even for here. So why not let him in to have a little talk with me? Who's gonna complain? Ya think there'll be any outrage over _me_ getting roughed up by a man in a bat suit? Nah. And you know what? It was...entertaining. He's still the same emotional, confused...._hypocritical_ man he always was. But so incorruptible....so.....fun."

He looked bizarrely content and Samantha could only shake her head.

"But enough of that. What about you? Heard anything from _Eric_?"

He just couldn't get over Eric, even after learning she'd broken up with him. And she had indeed heard from Eric. He'd come by her work last week casting her looks that alternated between fury and reproach. She'd ignored him until he'd come up to the counter.

"I just want to tell you how badly you fucked my life up," he'd said in a low voice. "You led me to believe you were someone you weren't. I fell in love with you Samantha. And you walked all over me and made a fool out of me. Wasn't I always good to you? _Wasn't I?_"

She'd stared at him coolly and said: "Look, I apologized to you. And that's all you'll get. Let it go, leave me alone, stay away from me. If you'd ever bothered to really get to know me I probably would have told you but you never really cared to know me. I won't defend myself to you, I don't owe you an explanation and you damn sure aren't gonna make me feel guilty. So get the fuck out of my face. Now."

"Fucking bitch," he'd muttered as he stalked out of the store. "I hope he kills you."

She knew who "he" was and almost told Eric that "he" would be more likely to kill him instead but held her tongue.

"Nope, haven't heard anything from him," she told Jack, not wanting to discuss Eric anymore. "My dad came to see me though."

"And what was that like? Were ya glad to see him?"

"No. He's a hardcore junkie now. Has a junkie girlfriend who's pregnant," she swallowed hard. "Gonna be a girl they said. I'll have a half sister, can you believe it? Kid's gonna have a miserable life...if she even lives. He hit me up for drugs and money and wasn't even there for ten minutes."

Jack tilted his head to the side curiously. "Did you give him any?"

"Hell no. I ended up showing them the door."

He smiled viciously. "Good. Fuck him. He left you and went on about his life like you never existed. He never deserved ya anyway."

Her eyes widened in amazement. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me...its the truth and you know it." He shook a lock of unruly hair from his forehead and narrowed his eyes. "Now...I can tell there's something else bothering you. Hm? Tell me what it is."

She took a deep breath and looked away. There was no hiding things from him.

"This is my last visit isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah, it is. They only went for three. Now....tell me what's wrong."

She stood up and moved to the glass, still not looking at him. She didn't want to tell him her plan, didn't want to admit defeat.

_I have to do it._

Finally she looked up at him. They were only inches away from one another. For a moment she forgot about the glass, forgot that they were in Arkham. She extended one hand and touched the smooth surface. Her eyes went to his inmate's uniform, then back to his face. His dark eyes never wavered from her face as he waited for her to speak with unusual patience.

"Jack," she began. "I want you to listen to me. I'm leaving Gotham. My house is up for sale and when I get a buyer I'm taking the money and moving to another state."

His head lowered slightly, eyes darting over her face. Something unreadable came across his visage and disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.

"I have to get away," she continued. "They're not gonna let me visit you anymore and....and....I don't know how I'll take that."

He didn't move, didn't speak.

"Here's the thing Jack. I love you. I've loved you for a long time. I never stopped, even though I tried to tell myself I had. But I can't take it. I don't expect you to love me back because I know what..._who_ you are. No, I'm fine just feeling the way I do and...and dealing with it. But what I _can't_ take is never seeing you again, knowing you're so close but I still won't be able to see you. And it'll never end. I know what you think of people and how bad they all are but don't you ever forget what I've said today. _Ever._ Because I mean it and I'm not like them. You know that, you've said it yourself. But.....but I can't torture myself anymore. I just can't."

The tears didn't come and she was glad of that. Bad enough the words were pouring out of her unchecked. She was appalled but also relieved. No point in trying to hide it anymore. This was it. If she didn't tell him she'd regret it forever.

An eternity of dead quiet passed between them before Jack spoke.

"Sam," he said quietly. A half-smile stretched across his lips. "Ya just don't have any faith in me...do ya?"

She was about to ask him what he meant when the intercom crackled to life.

"_Samantha.....please listen....careful...watch........."_

A loud bang interrupted the signal and Dr. Peloni's voice dissolved into white noise.

Her head snapped to the door at the end of the hallway. The guards stood motionless, twin sentinels in a pharoah's tomb. She cast a quick glance at Jack, who merely grinned at her, and pressed the intercom button.

"Doctor? What's going on? Everything okay?"

Silence.

She took a few steps towards the guards. "Hey," she said loudly. "I think something is going on out there."

The guards glanced at each other and shrugged.

_Shouldn't they be using their radios?_

"The intercom isn't working. Can you call out on your radios and find out what the deal is?" She walked down the center of the hallway towards them.

A loud boom sounded beyond the door and she froze in her tracks at the sound. Cold fear rose in her chest.

And still the guards didn't move.

A beeping sound met her ears and she realized someone in the outer room was punching in a keycode to get into the corridor. She found her feet moving towards the door, although she knew that was a bad idea.

_No other place to go. This is a dead end. Whatever comes through that door just keep cool._

She was only a few feet away from the guards and the door when they turned on her. In unison they cocked the pumps on their shotguns and leveled them at her.

"No closer honey," one of them said with a smirk. "You just stay right there."

_Shit._

She suddenly recalled something Dr. Peloni had said the first time she'd come here.

_"we've had to hire extra staff because of the Joker."_

_Extra staff. How many of them were _his _men? Oh damn, this isn't good. _

She started to back up, retreating to Jack's cell. Nowhere to go. Jack on one end, henchmen with shotguns pointed at her on the other and in the middle murderers and rapists.

The door swung open with a pained creak and two clown masked men entered. One of them held Dr. Peloni in a headlock and she stopped.

"Let him go," she ordered them, suddenly furious. She'd grown very fond of the old man and seeing him manhandled by a couple of thugs enraged her. "Don't you dare fucking hurt him."

They pulled him down the hallway, towards her and Jack's cell. She stood her ground, not knowing what she could do to help Dr. Peloni but determined not to cower or run.

"Okay old man," one of them said. "You know what we need you to do. Just do it, don't give us any trouble and we might not kill you. That is, if the boss doesn't want us to kill you."

They passed her as if she didn't exist, dragging the poor doctor along with them. She knew what they meant to do. All the cells, Jack's included, had a keypad on the outside. To open the cells a certain code had to be typed in.

They were going to use the doctor to get Jack's cell open.


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER FORTY**

The man holding Dr. Peloni shoved him towards Jack door. "Work your magic," he ordered, pointing the shotgun at the elderly man's chest.

The doctor glanced at Jack, who was leaning casually against the glass, then at Samantha, who was standing in the center of the corridor.

"You do realize how hard it will be to get out of the building after I let him out," he stammered. "And this time the police will shoot to kill....."

"No cops will be around and I'm going to kill _you_ if you don't hurry up and get that door open," the man growled, pushing the muzzle of the shotgun into Dr. Peloni's ribs. He winced in pain and Samantha leapt forward, placing herself between the two men.

"Hey! Don't do that," she warned. "I told you, don't hurt him."

"Samantha," Dr. Peloni sounded petrified. "Please, it's all right. Don't make this any worse."

"Listen to the old man," the thug said threateningly. "I won't hesitate to fuck your world up girl."

"We don't have all day. So can we, ah, get on with it already?" Jack interjected calmly. "Just do your thing doc and everything will be fine."

The doctor hesitated for a second, then began to punch a series of numbers into the keypad. The door to Jack's room was made of steel, with a large viewing window of the same safety glass that made up the front of the cell. Jack moved to the door, tapping his fingers against the glass impatiently.

Samantha began to edge away, thinking to sneak out while the men were distracted but Jack noticed her right away.

"Ah-ah-ah Sam, you stay right there," he admonished and with a frustrated sigh she stayed put.

The locks in the door made an audible clicking sound as they released. One final entry into the pad and the main lock disengaged. Immediately Jack pushed the door open.

And then he was out.

He strode out, licking his lips eagerly. His walk was confident, triumphant, and the doctor shrank from him in fear.

"Thanks, ah, doc," the Joker said. "And don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt ya. Sam here wouldn't stand for it, would ya Sam?"

"No I wouldn't," she replied, unable to take her eyes off Jack. She gave a slight nod at him, a silent thanks for not harming the doctor. He grinned slyly and cast his gaze over the man who'd threatened Samantha.

"Give me your gun," he ordered and the thug handed it over without a second's hesitation. Jack leveled the weapon at the man and casually blew a hole into his chest. The sound was deafening in the close confines of the hallway and the man went down with a choked cry.

"See her?" Jack said to him, motioning at Sam with the shotgun. "You don't ever, _ever_ threaten her. Guess I should've told ya that, hm?"

The man regarded Jack with glazed eyes and made a strangled sound. Jack started to walk over him, then emptied another round into the man's head, disintegrating it.

"Oh....my God," Dr. Peloni moaned.

Samantha had backed away a few feet, mostly to escape the noise and spatter of blood and tissue. She didn't go any further, knowing it would do no good.

Jack looked at the other thug. "Go back down the hall," he told him. "Watch the door. Be ready to go when I say."

The thug nodded mutely and hurried away.

Now it was the doctor, Jack and herself. Jack stepped lightly over the body, coming straight for her. Samantha felt strangely at ease, not in the least bit frightened.

"You really didn't think I'd stay in here did you?" he asked her.

"At first I didn't. But as time went on and I saw all the security, well then I started to think you would be here forever." she answered.

"You oughta know better than that...I could have left months ago if I wanted to."

"Then why didn't you?"

"Um well I just needed a little...break. Being on the run is tiring ya know. And it was entertaining...watching them try to get me to talk, to analyze me." He shot a look at the doctor, who was watching Jack with dread written on his face.

"Come on _doctor_, did ya really think I'd spill my guts to you guys?" Jack continued. "Didya think I'd come to my senses and decide I wanted to be....well?"

Dr. Peloni shook his head vigorously. "No, I told the other doctors you'd never talk and if you did...it would be only to bait us."

Jack nodded. "Smart," he remarked. "Very smart. I always liked ya doc-tor. Be glad of that."

He turned to Samantha. "And what about you, hm?

She took a deep breath, gauging the distance of the hallway. The open door leading to freedom beckoned her. Maybe she and Dr. Peloni could make a run for it. Of course there were henchmen out there but she was willing to take her chances. She wasn't scared but self preservation was taking over.

"Hey. I asked you a question. _What about you?"_ He advanced closer to her.

"What about me? Look, you know I'm not gonna stand in your way. Just leave me and the doctor and go. We won't say a thing." She glanced over at the doctor, who nodded enthusiastically.

"No," Jack's eyes studied her intensely. "No. Here's the thing, um, Sam. You're coming along."

She started to protest, to tell him he really was crazy if he thought she'd go traipsing off with him and his band of goons but he interrupted.

"You don't have much of a choice Sam. C'mon, it won't be a kidnapping. You know you want to. That little speech you just gave me....that was....interesting. Just come with me, you can go later."

"Why?" she breathed. "I told you I........"

"Look, if ya don't I'll have the doc here open every one of these cells," he indicated the doors lining the corridor. The inhabitants, roused from their drugged out state by the noise, were yelling and screaming. She shuddered at the thought of them roaming free in Gotham. "It won't be pretty, I can tell you that. Didya know there's one who likes to eat people? He ate five people before they caught him. Everything but the heads."

"Ok, damnit," she hissed. She couldn't tell if he was telling the truth but she didn't want to push him. He was giving her a choice, go with him or allow murderers and rapists to go free. But not only that, he was giving her a way out. A part of her wanted to go. Now she could, with very little guilt. The doctor would tell the police what had happened and no one would fault her. They'd say she was a hero for doing it.

_That's so messd up. Really, you should be ashamed of yourself Sam. You better hope he keeps to what he said about letting you go._

She met Dr. Peloni's wide eyes and shrugged.

"I have to," she told him. "If those guys are let go they'll end up killing you and probably everyone in Arkham before they escape into the Narrows."

"Hey boss," one of the thugs stepped into the hallway. "We better get a move on. I doubt the cops know what's going on yet but the longer we wait....."

Jack didn't acknowledge him. His gaze was still on Samantha. "Very good choice," he whispered to her. "I just want to have a little talk with ya, then I'll let ya go."

"Don't expect to turn me around to your way of thinking," she warned. "You've got enough flunkies, you don't need me. So don't bother."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Now come on. I'd hate to go through all this trouble just to get caught before I even make it out of the building."

He grabbed her arm and she instinctively pulled away. "Don't manhandle me. I'll follow. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Those terrible eyes regarded her for a second and with a nod he let her go.

She followed him out of the hallway, past the cells. Behind her Dr. Peloni watched helplessly.

----------------------------------------------------

When they reached the main floor they found a multitude of henchmen awaiting them. Patients, staff and a few visitors were flat on the floor and carefully watched. A guard she recognized as Daniel lay dead. When the men saw their boss they averted their eyes in a sign of fear and respect. Jack paced around the people on the floor, shoulders hunched. Even without his suit and make-up he was unnerving and each person he passed shrank away from him.

"Anyone call out or trip an alarm?" Jack asked.

"Nope," one responded. "We waylaid them before anyone could react. Took the staff's cell phones, rounded them all up. Everything should be under control."

Samantha only half listened. One of the thugs had his back to her, dangling his shotgun nonchalantly. She couldn't take her eyes off the weapon.

_I bet I could grab it. He's holding it pretty loose. Yeah, I could grab it and maybe get out of here. Or I could.....I could shoot Jack. No, I wouldn't be able to do that. Damnit, why did I tell him all that stuff? If I'd known he was about to be broken out I would've kept my mouth shut._

"Hmm, well....let's go then," Jack said. He looked back at Sam, eyes darting to the thug's shotgun, then back at her. A grin stretched across his face and she cursed inwardly.

_So much for that plan. Oh well. I don't think he'll hurt me. Just look at this like an adventure. A really fucked up adventure._

They exited Arkham and the site that met Samantha's eyes almost made her laugh. A multitude of vehicles, SUVs, vans, even a travel bus, were lined up in the parking lot.

"Subtle," she remarked to Jack. "I'm sure this won't draw any attention at all."

He laughed and motioned to a rather inconspicuous looking minivan.

"That's _our_ ride. The rest of the vehicles are _theirs_." He pointed to his henchmen.

"Subtle after all," she muttered.

"Not really my style," he answered. "But sometimes you have to conform to be successful."

"My car," she said. "There's something in it I need to get."

He arched an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"My pills. I have to have them, you know that. I don't want to get sick. And....something else. Come on, it's right there in the parking lot. See how close it is? If you don't trust me then come with me."

He scrutinized her, trying to see if she was up to anything. After a moment he nodded his head. "Okay, but I'm going with you."

"Fine," she answered.

She headed for her car, Jack a few steps behind her. His henchmen watched her closely and she knew if she tried anything she'd be gunned down. Her keys were still in Arkham anyway. She had to leave them with a guard whenever she visited.

She opened her unlocked door and popped the trunk. Then she went around and got her purse. She didn't know why she'd brought the stiletto with her today, but she had and it currently rested in the bottom of her purse.

_They'll search my car. I don't want them finding it and taking it. Good thing I brought it with me._

"I'm ready now," she told Jack. "And if you must know, the knife you sent...I have it in my purse. Didn't want to leave it behind."

He said nothing, merely looked her up and down curiously.

"Let's go," he finally said.

-------------------------------------------------------

She had no idea where they were at. She didn't even think they were in Gotham anymore. They'd left Arkham, surrounded by a convoy of vehicles. She remembered passing police cars, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Headed to Arkham no doubt. And then the interstate.

She'd refused to look at Jack as they sat in the back of the minivan. Instead she looked out the window or stared at the back of the driver's head. At one point she'd sneaked a glance at Jack, his eyes had been shut and he opened them as soon as he felt her watching him.

"I bet you're pretty pissed aren't you?" he'd asked, a mocking grin on his face.

She hadn't responded, just looked back out the window. Trees and buildings whizzed by. Soon they would be miles and miles away.

She'd actually dozed off when she heard the tires crunch on a gravel road. Opening her eyes she saw that it was now dark out.

"Are we there yet?" she asked dimly, rubbing the stiffness out of her neck.

"Yeah babe, we're here all right," the driver answered with a chuckle and Jack frowned.

"How about you not talk to her, hm?" he snapped and the driver nodded apologetically.

Samantha peered out the van's window at a huge farmhouse set in the middle of the woods. It was one of those L shaped two story affairs, with fieldstone foundation and washed out gray siding. A few lights burned in the windows. The chirp of crickets and other insects was the only noise she could hear.

"Go on, get out," Jack told her. "This is your new....um...home for a while."

Without comment she got out of the vehicle. Some of Jack's henchmen had come with them and she could see their vehicles parked here and there on the property. The men milled around in the shadows, whispering amongst themselves and smoking cigarettes. At the sight of the woman they fell quiet and appraised her silently. She carried herself like she was some kind of queen but they figured when the boss got through with her she'd be a whimpering puddle.

"I thought he didn't like women," one of them said to another.

"Who says he does? You don't have to like them to......." He made a circle with one hand and poked the finger of another hand into it and they laughed.

"Okay...gentle-men," Jack announced, coming around to where Samantha was standing. "See her?" He pointed at Sam. "Good. You're not to speak to her or look at her funny or touch her. And just in case any of you decides to ignore me I'm gonna _arm_ her." With that he pushed a sawed off shotgun into her hands.

Samantha gaped at him. Why the hell was he giving her a weapon? Wasn't he worried she might try to use it on him? He paid her no attention, still looking at his men.

"If she decides to kill any of you for doing what I told ya _not_ to do, then that's fine with me. Just pretend like she doesn't exist and things will be fine. Got it?"

The men nodded in unison, staring at the now armed woman.

--------------------------------

"I don't understand this," she said.

"What's to understand? I wanted to talk to you."

They were in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Jack had told her this was her room and she'd shrugged, not allowing him to see her concern. _Her room._ That sounded too long-term for her liking. She'd been hoping he'd keep her for few hours and then let her go. Obviously not.

He was out of his Arkham inmate's uniform and back into his overcoat and suit. She had no idea how he'd managed to get ahold of it, unless he had more than one. His make-up was back on too but his hair was still a normal shade. Evidently he hadn't been able to come across any green dye yet.

"I gave you a way out so you could come with me."

"A little heavy-handed though," she muttered, sitting on the dusty bed. The shotgun lay on the bed next to her. "But since we're being honest I'll admit that yes, in a way I wanted to come with you. Oh, and thanks for not killing Dr. Peloni."

He uttered a low laugh, as if amused by her words. "That whole nice thing of yours," he muttered absently.

"A lot of people would disagree with you about that," she quipped. "But as long as the Joker thinks I'm nice...well I guess that makes it true, right?"

Without warning he flopped down on the bed next to her and she jumped despite herself.

"The knife....where is it?" he asked.

She rummaged through her purse and found it. It gleamed in the soft lamplight, coldly gorgeous.

Jack took it from her and pushed the button that ejected the blade. Seconds went by as he stared at it, chewing the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Finally he handed it back to her.

"It's yours now," he stated simply. "But you already know that."

"Thanks," she whispered awkwardly.

"What you said back at Arkham.....no one's ever said that to me. _Ever._ Not that I ever wanted anyone to. And you were right Sam...I can't return what you feel. Not exactly."

He was moving closer, dead eyes fixed on hers. "But I can tell you no one will ever hurt you, not while I'm around. And anything you want...._anything_...it's yours." His gloved hand closed around her wrist firmly and she didn't try to pull away. Listening to his halting voice, both menacing and sing-song, she felt like she was falling into a bottomless pit. "Remember when I said I'd always be back? Hm? Well here I am. And this is what I wanted all along, for you to come with me. Not force you or kidnap you. I wanted you to _want_ to."

"Jack," she said. "You know I can't....I can't ignore what you do. Don't you understand that? And I can't place my fate with yours or become dependant on you. I mean what if...."

His hand tightened on her wrist. "_Nothing_ will happen to you. I won't let it. You'll always have a way out."

She believed him. She thought of all the years, where nothing had been quite right without him, of all the dismal relationships she'd had that just didn't quite live up to the one she'd had with the guy she used to work with.

And she gave in.

--------------------

**A/N: **One more chapter to go, an epilogue of sorts, and then it's over!


	41. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

_When Gordon first heard of the Fourth of July breakout he had lost it. He'd thrown his phone against the wall and screamed "Son of a BITCH!" in an uncharacteristic display of fury._

_After that people in the MCU began to whisper. They said he was cracking up over this whole Joker thing, that he'd have a nervous breakdown._

_Sometimes, when his frustration was at its peak, he told himself that next time he'd make sure someone killed the bastard. Put an end to it once and for all. Shame would invariably follow. If he did that he'd be no better than the crooked cops he'd fought so hard to get rid of, no better than the Joker himself._

_Samantha had been taken and that scared him. Dr. Peloni told him what had transpired, that the Joker had threatened to release Level Three inmates if she didn't go with him. God only knew what had become of her._

_Most thought she was dead. Gordon wasn't so sure. They'd had a relationship, an odd one to be sure, but a relationship nonetheless. Maybe she was still alive, held captive. But where?_

_That was the problem. The Joker had vanished, Samantha had vanished. He had no leads. He had tried to track her ex boyfriend down only to find out the guy was himself missing. His roommate had filed a missing person's report when Eric had failed to come home from work._

_After that he found Sam's father in Florida. The man was in jail, as was his girlfriend. They'd been put in on various drug charges and the girlfriend's baby had been put into foster care. He'd heard someone had been checking on the well being of the baby and had said in no uncertain terms what would happen if the infant were not well cared for. An anonymous donation had been sent to ensure the child would never go without. No leads on the caller. It was a man and that was all anyone could remember._

_Samantha's house was bought by an old lady who never lived in it or rented it out. She hired someone to keep an eye on it and mow the yard. When detectives came by her home and asked why she bought a house she didn't plan to live in she told them it was none of their business and slammed the door in their faces._

_Gordon could only hope that Samantha was out there somewhere, alive and well and untouched by the Joker's madness._

_------------------------------------------------_

_She sleeps peacefully, as she always does these days. Her life holds little worries compared to the nightmare existence she'd had in Gotham._

_When the bedroom door squeaks open she awakes and when she sees the man who has entered her room she smiles. Most people would have screamed at that face, that slouching walk, and scrambled to call 911. But not her._

_He gets into bed with her and she welcomes him fiercely. Both of their bodies bear shallow cuts, scratches and bite marks. The wounds are a matter of course for them and are not received in a traumatic way._

_Moonlight coming through the window reflects off an item on her bedside. A knife, remarkably beautiful and pristine. Lately it has been well used. In her hand it has finally drawn blood but in a most loving way._

_Later that night she falls into the dark embrace of sleep yet again, with the man at her side._

_--------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**A/N: **And that's the end.

I'd like to thank my readers and reviewers who enjoyed this story. You made it indescribably fun and for that I'm forever grateful.

As for what's next, well I've got an idea or two and I do need to finish Test Subject D. I had two chapters of that one completed before my computer died and now I can't get them back....so I'll have to redo them. I haven't given up on that story though and I know a couple of you are wanting it to go on.

Anyways I'm rambling. Again thank you so much!


End file.

Batman Begins/Dark Knight, Romance