A/U: Hi, guys! This isn't my first fan fiction, but it is on this site in particular. It's also my first batman story, so some critism and/or comments would be greatly appreciated.


Dead End

Chapter One: Common Numbers

Her shoes make small click's against the marble floors of the bank, echoing against the walls pleasantly. The large white pillars that stand tall against the front doors glow brilliantly against the sunlight that pools in from the windows circling the building. It gives that room an nearly surreal look, and basks it in magnificent colour. Normally, she would take the time to stare in awe at the beauty of such a moment, but today, she doesn't have the time.

It was around midday-when there was just the right amount of people bustling around-and the sounds of other people going about their business made Faith a lot more comfortable. Her eyes are covered in green contacts that burn uncomfortably, and her sweaty scalp itches under the weight of her curly brown wig. With a sigh, she lets her finger brush over her right eye, where God knows how much make-up was hiding the scar tissue beneath it. From the corner of her eye, she spots a male teller in the fair corner of a customer service desk. She grins as though he has the word TARGET tattooed across his forehead in big bulky print; he might as well have. She takes in his cocky appearance-the slicked back blonde hair and the way his tie hangs loosely-Show time, she muses briefly to herself, letting a fake smile part her lips.

"Hi," She says sweetly as she leans her weight onto the counter, "I'd like to see my safety deposit box, please."

"Sure thing," He says with a returning smile that doesn't meet his eyes, "Mrs…?"

"Lahey." She grins charmingly, rummaging through her purse, "Nicole Lahey."

"Alright," He hums out, and his fingers glide over the computer in a way that almost makes her homesick, "Can I see some identification?"

"Sure thing," She winks-and holds back a roll of her eyes-pulling out her wallet to flash him a picture of a pretty, young brunette with a beaming expression.

"Alright, Mrs. Lahey." He says, picking up the phone beside him, "Just let me call security and he'll take you down."

"Thank you," She whispers softly, twiddling her thumbs in anticipation. A few agonizing moments later, a lanky-looking fellow with grey hair saunters out from behind a door to her right, whistling softly under his breath.

"Follow me," He tells her, and she almost has to jog to keep in stride with him. For an old guy, she grins to herself, he doesn't waste any time. He leads her down a narrow corridor and makes a sharp left, before using the keys jingling at his waist to unlock a vault.

The, she's shown over the metal boxes that sit against the wall, stopping in front of one labelled '1522.' He pulls a key from his pocket, grumbling as he does so and slides it in. It turns with a small click, and then he meanders back out the door without so much as a word.

"Thanks," She says, brushing back her hair out of habit as he grunts in response, closing the door behind him. She listens to his footsteps fade for a moment or two before surveying the room around her.

"Okay Faith, I'd say we've got ten, maybe fifteen minutes," A voice chimes into her ear via earpiece, and she smiles briefly, taking a minute to itch at her hair line. Miles away, her brother and partner taps away at a computer of his own, watching her every move from the buildings surveillance.

"Don't say anything. You see the camera?" She turns to fix it with a look, and listens to him chuckle, "Good. Now, go over to the box and stand with your back turned to it for a few seconds. I'm already in the network, I just need to hook some shit up on my end."

Faith plays idly with her own key as she waits, before sliding it into the keyhole, turning and listening as it opens all the way. "Alright, I got it." He says quickly, "Now, I need you to take some slow steps around the room-" He pauses as she responds immediately, playing with her fake hair as she goes, "-I'm taping it so we can play it on loop for a little bit."

He pauses to let her make some distance and then tells to do it over again, "Okay, Faith. I just synced my cam with theirs. Go for it." And she does, stepping quickly back to the lockers lining the wall and jerking open her safety deposit box. Dentist-like tools stare back up at her, and she grins, running her bare fingers against the metallic pieces.

She takes out the smallest one, a tiny tool lined with bristles on the end, as her eyes scan the shelves. "It's the one to your right, 1236." Absentmindedly, she nods, adjusting her wig with her left hand as her right jiggles the key within the slot. She pushes it deeper, listening carefully as she hears the proper pins slide into place.

Finally, a grateful click fills her ears and she wastes no time pulling it open. She files through some of the paper stacks, and then spies a small black bag in the far corner. She picks it up, letting a smirk take her face as she peers in at the contents.

"I've got it, Jay." She tells him cockily, waving the bag to the camera dauntingly, "What's my time?"

"Three minutes and twenty-eight seconds." He grumbles as her grin widens.

"You owe me a grand," She says pointedly, shoving the bag into her coat pocket, and fixing the boxes back to the way she found them. She expects him to bitch, at least a little-after all, that's the fun part!-but he doesn't.

"Whatever," He sighs and she hears some shuffling beyond the earpiece, "Just go stand next to the door so I can end the loop."

She skips over with a smile, and adjusts herself as he sees fit until he tells her to hold still. "Alright Faith, I'm done here. Pick up some grub on your way home, would ya'?" Grouchy ass, she thinks, loveable little grouch, though. The line in her ear goes dead after he mumbles something about scraping up some cash, and Faith twists her hair around her finger, smiling.

Suddenly everything is quiet, and it reminds her of the calm before a storm. As if on cue, gunshots sound from somewhere behind the door as a women shrieks in the background. "Get down on the ground!" A rough voice grinds out, and another shot is sounded, on its own this time, "Show me your hands!" Panicked screams erupt as another clip is unloaded, followed by some shuffling and then more unnerving quiet.

This must be what chaos sounds like, she thinks, amused, Fuck, I really don't need this today.

With a frown, she takes a step back from the door, and then, remembering the camera, attempts to look frightened. Footsteps are getting closer and closer, until she can hear a drill buzzing on the opposing side. Finally, the vault slides open noisily, and she makes a show of shrieking as she drops to the ground.

Me and my luck, She groans inwardly; Before her stands two men in clown masks, one crouched near a backpack of equipment with-surprise, surprise!-a drill in hand, and the other hunched behind him, shotgun dangling from his fingers.

"Shit, someone's in here," The one on the ground growls, but the other says nothing. He raises his left hand unflinchingly to the back of the mans head, and without a moments hesitation pulls back on the trigger. The Shotty at point blank sends blood and brain onto anything nearby, including Faith. It flows openly onto the floor as he steps over the body, adjusting his mask with his free hand. The pool of blood makes it to the edge of her shoe, and Faith cant decide whether to fake hysteria or do nothing at all. She settles for whipping away some of the blood with the back of her hand.

"Get on the ground, bitch," He hisses, jerking the gun back. Faith bares her teeth, her anger finally kicking in, I am so sick of this. Within that moment she silently debates with herself, until finally it ends with; Who cares? I'm in disguise, anyways.

She grabs his wrist and twists hard as the gun comes down, using the added force to drag him off balance; she uses his weight against him, tossing him onto the ground like a rag doll and pinning his arm against his back rather painfully.

His finger jerks on the trigger-damn idiot!-the bullet imbedding itself into the far wall. In anger, she twists harder and grins at his pained yelp, and the cringe-worthy crack that comes as his hand is bent way past the norm. The gun slips away from his fingers as his wrists hangs limply, twisted and broken. She catches it with her free hand and clambers over top him, slamming the base of the grip onto the back of his head victoriously.

His body slumps forward immediately, and she stands, pausing when someone from the doorway clears their throat.

Another clown-masked man is leaning against the frame, wagging his gun at her. His mask is different then the others; with sullen blue eyes and a large, menacing red grin. A purple suit hangs loosely off his physique, proportioned in a manner that screams authority. Of course, Faith thinks bitterly, the one day I take a trip to the bank, the Joker himself decides to rob it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Ah, ah, ah," The man tisk's, nearly skipping forward and gripping her arm roughly, "I wassupposed to, ah, off him. Now who's going to help me load the bags?" Maybe he wont recognize me?, she pleads with God softly in her mind, Please, please let him not recognize me.

She can hear his lips smack from beneath the rubber mask as he tugs her closer, his fingers moving up to grab her face roughly. His thumb brushes just below her eye and she curses as she feels the makeup curl beneath his touch. He recoils slightly, bouncing almost excitedly, "Faithy? Is that you under there?" She stiffens immediately and bites down on her lip, hard.

He scrubs at her cheek eagerly, peeling away at the makeup covering her cheek until he unveils the two triangular scars that hover just below her right eye. "Oh-ho, Faithy," He mocks, drawling out the 'y' with a click of his tongue, "It is you!"

I knew it was too late to become a believer, she groans to herself, a frown playing at her lips.

He squeals and rips the brown wig away from her head in one yank, tugging roughly at the jaw-length black hair that replaces it. He ruffles her bangs and laughs harder when she scowls and brushes them out of her face.

"I should have known when I, ah-" He pauses to giggle as he takes hold of her arm again, "-Ha-ha, caught you ruffin' up my best like that." He nods over-dramatically at her halfway through, growling out each word as he points to the slumped over man.

"Your best are shit," She spits out, trying to pull her body away from his bruising, vice-like grip, "My grandmother could have taken him out."

He seems to mull this over for a moment, then shrugs, "Hard to find good help these days, y'know?"

She nods absentmindedly as he giggles again and pokes her, "I'm going to leave you here, Fa-i-thy-dearest," he says lowly, shaking his head like a wet dog, "But, ah, I need a favour. So you-" He jabs the gun into her chest, "-meet me," and then jerks it to himself, "-On Ethel street at, oh, um, let's say, 8, tomorrow."

"Sharp," He adds, clicking his teeth together.

"Finish whatever job your doing now," He motions to the room behind him with the gun like he's flicking away a peasant, "and, uh, fit me in on your schedule."

He nods her own face for her with his gloved hands and then pats her on the head, "Good."

He makes it over to the safety deposit boxes with one stride, and pulls a crowbar out of his coat. What the hell does he keep in there? She thinks as she wrinkles her nose. "1236, 1236," He scratches the inside of his neck from beneath the mask as he scans the numbers, tapping the gun against his chin in mock of a thoughtful expression. "It's the one to your left," She calls, watching as he fixes her with a look. His eyes trail down to her lumped pocket, and he mouths an 'O' with a firm nod. He finds the box with a happy sound and wrenches it open, sifting through the paperwork Faith had bypassed. He yanks out a yellow page and lets the rest spill to the ground, with an "Oops," and a bounce in his step.

"-Oh," He says cheerfully as he makes his way to the door, but his voice transcends to a growl within moments, "And lose the contacts Faithy."

He pauses to slide his fingers through her hair and along her jaw, tilting his head as she shivers. "I like your, uh, baby blues better." He purrs, and slaps the side of her cheek twice gently before he disappears through the vault doors.

She stares after him, waiting as his feet click against the floors, whistling and humming as he goes. "Where the hell are you Faith?" Her ear piece hums back to life. Like a child, Jay whines from the other side of the line, "I'm hungry!"

"Hum, de dee dum~" And his voice disappears down the hallway.


A/U: So what did you think of the first chapter? Is Faith real enough, is the Joker in character? Any comments at all are helpful ones. I'm like a crack whore.. execpt my crack is reviews!.. and sugar canes, that shit makes me go ko-koo for cocoa puffs! Erm, yeah, so I hope you enjoyed.