A/N: This takes place 8 years before Sam's kidnapping. All the bad things (mother dying, car wreck, David) have yet to take place. She's working at a factory in Gotham that manufactures the metal parts for seat belts.

I'd still like to write something else. Maybe with the Joker in Arkham, but I'm having a hard time coming up with a storyline. I don't want Harley Quinn so that sort of puts me at a standstill. Soooo if anyone wants to give me some ideas I'm open to them. I have both Yahoo and AIM IMs and my screen name is oc1971jn on both of them if you'd like to chat.

Stranger

Another Monday, another day at K&D Metals.

Samantha cut across the factory's dusty floor to get to the break room. It was 7am and she was in dire need of caffeine. She had been up half the night arguing with Randy over the phone. She'd broken up with him a week ago and he still couldn't get the message. He was convinced she was seeing someone else when in fact she broke up with him because she simply couldn't stand him anymore. He couldn't hold a job, smoked weed like cigarettes and was ridiculously jealous. Samantha had endured him for a full year before she couldn't take it anymore.

'A year I'll never get back.' she thought ruefully. Oh well, she'd done it, that was the important thing.

The production workers barely looked at her as she passed, which was just as well. They actually had to sweat for their money, whereas she sat at a computer all day inputting data and answering the phone. There was no mistaking the contempt the female workers showed her and the men....well their looks were ones of disdain and a sneering type of lust which was better ignored.

What most of them didn't know was that this place was a sham. Yes, K&D made seat belt parts, but it was a cover. The owner of the factory had mob ties and the factory itself was a ruse. Samantha wasn't sure of the technicalities but she knew enough. Working in the office gave her a chance to see and hear things the others couldn't imagine. She was pretty sure stolen goods and possibly even weapons were being stored at the plant and moved out with the shipments of metal parts. The pay was excellent though and so she ignored her conscience. She only hoped she was no longer working there when the FBI and GCPD came to raid the place one day.

She slipped into the break room only to see Greg, one of the floor supervisors, talking to three new hires. They were all seated at one of the rickety tables and Greg seemed deep in conversation with them.

All four faces turned to stare at her as she came in and she tried not to squirm in discomfort. She hated that, walking into a room and having every person look, if even for a second. The new hires, two men and a woman, regarded her for a moment then brought their attention back to Greg.

"Well hi Sam." Greg greeted.

"Hi." she answered shortly and made for the Coke machine. She didn't like him, never had. Greg was one of those overfriendly guys who'd gush about his wife and kids to you while staring at your chest the whole time. When she had first started working at the factory he'd asked her out and when she declined he'd taken a petulant attitude with her, trying to belittle her at every opportunity. He was also one of the most two faced people Samantha had ever seen in her life. Confiding in him about anything job related would eventually get you written up or fired.

"You meet the new people yet?" he asked, undeterred by her desire to be away from him.

"I've just seen them, does that count?" she responded. He was going to do his best to embarass her in front of the new people, she could already tell. Sighing, she fed a dollar into the machine and it spat it back at her.

"Little touchy this morning aren't we? They're all gonna work the floor so you won't see a lot of them. Might as well be civil and say hello."

"Sure thing." she muttered, trying to straighten her dollar out and making a point to keep her back to him.

"You gonna look at them or are you gonna be rude? Damn girl, sometimes I think you're just plain stuck up."

Fed up, she spun around, fixing a cold glare on him. "First off, don't call me girl unless you're ok with me calling you 'boy'. You know my name, use it. Secondly, I'll say hi when I feel like it. Right now I'm trying to get a drink."

As if on cue the machine finally accepted her dollar and she made her selection.

For a moment Greg smirked at her while the new people shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Then he burst into fake laughter.

"Oh you're just so feisty Sam, just a regular firecracker when you want to be." he cackled, trying to brush it off. She knew she'd pissed him off though and this pleased her.

"Ok." she allowed, wanting to get this over with. "Introduce us."

She pulled up a chair and sat down at the table next to them, drumming her fingers impatiently on the cheap formica.

"Well the girl here is Sandy, she'll be on the production line. Then we got Allen, who'll be unloading parts from the powder coating machine. And then we got....uh..."

The guy Greg was speaking of was staring at a spot somewhere between the Coke machine and the sandwich machine, obviously wanting to be anywhere but here.

"Jack." the guy answered distantly, still looking into space.

"Oh yeah....Jack. He'll be helping to run the powder machine. Once he gets trained he'll be the main operator. I've been told he's a real smart guy."

"Good luck." Samantha told him. "That's the hottest, loneliest job in this place." In truth it was hellish, she'd talked to enough people to know that. Sitting behind a giant steel oven dipping metal parts into powder for hours at a time gave new meaning to the word 'tedious'.

Jack's gaze settled onto her and an odd smile touched his lips. He was young, probably five or six years her junior and he looked too.....educated to be working here. His intelligent eyes were brown, hair dark blonde with a bit of a wave in it. He was quite nice looking. Samantha was willing to bet women fell all over him. But his smile didn't touch his eyes. And his eyes didn't match the innocence of his face. It was as if he were wearing a mask.

"I don't mind heat or isolation." he said. His voice was deep and solemn. "I like being alone."

"I know what you mean." she answered. "One of the best things about what I do is being left alone. My mom always complains I should talk more, be more friendly. It's hard though. I could go a whole day without saying a thing or seeing another person and be happy."

This was true. She was a loner, never comfortable around other people, never sure what to say. Being around others made her feel as if she had to gab mindlessly to keep them entertained, had to feign interest in their stories about their kids, spouse or whatever. It was all too exhausting to bother with. And to be perfectly honest she didn't care for most people. She didn't know why, it was just part of her personality.

Jack nodded slightly, never looking away from her. His gaze was both unnerving and exciting and Samantha realized with a start there were three other people in the room she had forgotten about, each of them eyeing her and Jack curiously.

"Ok well, time for me to get to work. Gotta go." The words were meant for everyone but she kept looking at Jack. It was weird how they'd locked onto each other. For a second they had been the only people in the room. Samantha had never had that happen before and it was disconcerting.

She left, flustered and embarrassed, feeling his eyes on her as she walked away.

She saw him often after that but they hardly ever spoke. A few "hi's" in passing and once she asked him how he was liking it so far. He had only shrugged noncommittally, staring at her intensely, as if he wanted to say something but didn't have the nerve to say it. He was different but not in a bad way. Not to her anyway.

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 a second. He pushed a hand through his dripping hair, considering the offer.

"No." he finally said.

"Um, okay. Well have a good evening." She started to roll the window up when his voice stopped her.

"Thanks, ah, Samantha." he said and smiled.

"No prob." she answered and left him. She watched him in her rearview mirror, his slouched posture making him appear totally oblivious to the weather. She couldn't get over the way he'd said her name. The way he spoke in general. Weird.

The women who worked at the factory drooled over him, and some of the men probably did too, but he ignored everyone. Eventually they pegged him as a weirdo and avoided him completely. Samantha would see him at breaks, sitting away from everyone else and either reading a book or staring off into space. It was funny, she was usually doing the exact same thing as he was. Occasionally he would look her way and his gaze gave her goosebumps. He was both shy and sardonic and the contradiction tantalized her. Despite this her intuition told her to keep away from him and she did.

Then after only a month or so he was gone. She later found out he had threatened Greg and simply walked out of the factory, never to return. Not too surprising, Greg had that effect on people. She asked Greg what Jack had said to him but he would never tell her. He seemed shaken by the incident, which both amused and intrigued her.

Not long after Jack left she'd heard the factory owner in his office. He was on the phone and he sounded irate.

"Yes, its gone. The whole fucking thing!"

She cocked her head curiously, interest piqued.

"I don't know. Someone came in over the weekend and got through the gate. I told you we needed better security! Do you realize how much money that was? When I find out who it was, and I will find out, I'm gonna have their balls on a stick."

She later found out a large shipment that was due to be moved out was taken over the weekend. The "shipment" had consisted of weapons and who knew what else. Who was stupid, or crazy, enough to steal from a mob-run factory?

Whoever did it was never caught, not that Samantha knew of anyway, and after a while she forgot about it.

And after a while she forgot about Jack.

But he didn't forget about her.

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He couldn't explain why he fixated on her, why he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Maybe it was what she said to him. No, it was how she said it. She'd even offered him a ride when everyone else avoided him, instinctively realizing something wasn't right about him.

Even after he left that job he watched her for a while and she never knew. He had always been good at finding things out about people and he'd found out quite a bit about her. He'd never had plans to approach her, just observing her had been enough. Then other things happened and his life changed. He drifted away from her then, dismissing the incident as a temporary weakness. He had bigger and better things to do than creep around after some woman.

So it was strange how years later someone would come to him with a picture of a woman whose name and face he recognized. She hadn't changed a bit, still as beautiful as he remembered. He himself had changed so much, had transformed himself into a revolutionary, ahead of the curve, no longer acknowledging society's rules. And yet at the sight of her he became the man he had been, the person he'd strived to erase. It was funny really. All that power she held over him and she never had a clue.

"If I work out a deal with you will you get her for me? The bitch ruined my life and I want to return the favor. I can pay you well and I can give you useful information. Whatever you need, as long as you get her for me."

She was the only reason he took the cop up on his offer. He knew her, could remember her looking at him over the dirty table in the break room. Talking to him as if he weren't a freak. Those green-yellow eyes, the long dark blond hair which was always unruly and yet still pretty. The way she'd smarted off to that supervisor when he'd teased her. At that moment he had locked onto her and seen.........something. After that there was no turning back, at least not for a while. He had always been obsessive and she had ruled his thoughts for a long while.

And now she'd come back to him.

He had originally been perturbed that this fool had tracked him down only to want him to get involved in some idiotic domestic dispute. Him, the man who had thrown Gotham into unrivaled chaos. It was insulting really. He had planned on killing the cop for his stupidity, for assuming he was so small time that he'd waste his time on this job. But that had all went out the window when he saw the picture. This had to mean something. It was just too good to pass up.

Holding her photograph in his purple-gloved hand, staring down at it in disbelief, the Joker told David Bennett:

"Oh I'll get her all right. You've got a deal."

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A/N: So that's it. I couldn't let too much happen between them because Samantha never remembers him as someone she once worked with. That sort of limited me. I kind of see it as he was disturbed by his attraction to her, he sees it as a weakness and as a sign she has power over him. So when David comes to him years later he sees it as not only a way to be near her again and as fate but also as a way to have power over her.

I try to think of why he'd be drawn to her in the first place. It's obvious why she'd be drawn to him (just look at Heath Ledger and you'll see why) but with him I figure it as he sees she is similar to him and she's nicer to him than the others. Her offering him a ride while everyone else ignores him is an example. Then there's just chemistry, where you're inexplicably attracted to someone despite yourself. Of course with him it's a twisted attraction, i.e. the stalking, etc.