Disclaimer: I do not own the Joker of anything associated with the Batman. They are property of their respective creators and owners.

This not your typical Joker/OC story. There is no MollySue element, and it will not go the way you expect. It's rated M for a reason. Violence, mature content, and language. If you don't like it, don't read. But otherwise, welcome to the circus.

This story takes place about six months after TDK. The Joker made a miraculous escape from Arkham Asylum, and authorities have yet to figure out how he managed to do so. He has gone back to terrorizing Gotham, having no mercy upon those in his path. He has been robbing banks and ripping off what has come back of the mob in the six months they had to recollect during his absence. But something is in the air, and the people of Gotham can feel it. Fear runs rampant, the Joker thriving on it. Something big is about to happen.

Stepping between the two seperate worlds, that of her apartment and of the wonderful world of Gotham's streets, was sweet relief.

It had been way too long since she'd walked down the alleyways of Gotham City. She missed the smell, a combination of rotting food and the herbs that the sweaty homeless smoked. Some may find such things hard to stomach, but not Marlye. To her, it was comforting.

Life in the Gotham County Jail had left Marlye more eager than ever to step out of her shabby apartment's door. It wasn't the best of places. Two bedrooms, one bath, a few couches, a fridge, and a bed. She thought she'd done pretty well for herself with only a week back in life.

Walking now, the sweet smells of the back alleys of Gotham back in her nostrils, she thinks back on that time. As much as the government believes that incarceration is the best rehabilitation for criminals, Marlye would strongly disagree. Her crime? Bank robbery. It had almost been too easy. The money had been in her hands, and she had left. She had made it so far, until the damned drunk driver had run her over before she had gotten away.

When she woke up, she was laying in a hospital bed. She had broken an arm and torn a muscle in her leg but other than that her doctors said it was lucky she had not suffered much more damage than she did. The only reason she wasn't dead was because the driver had moved their foot off the gas and lost enough speed to avoid sending Marlye flying across the pavement. After recovery she was immediately thrown into a jail cell in Commissioner Gordon's holding area.

The benches in the cell were so cold, and she was getting thoroughly bored with the criminals milling around her. Not that she wasn't one herself, but some small part of herself thought that she was more cunning and sophisticated in her execution of her crimes. This was the only time she'd been caught, and it wouldn't even have been happened if it weren't for that stupid driver. It was the first time she'd ever wished someone had obeyed a law.

And suddenly, the monotony of the criminal's humming voices was interrupted by Gordon's loud voice screaming at them all to get back from the cells.

That's when she saw him. The Joker. He had been running rampant in the city for months, seemingly unable to catch. And here he was, in the grips of the police and being shoved into the same cell as her. It was like some kind of nightmare, something she had imagined but could never even convince herself that something that had proved to be so thoroughly maniacal could actually be real.

"Don't you dare touch her, do you hear me?" Gordon yelled at the clown. The man simply chuckled and put his head back against the bars.

For the first time in her life, Marlye felt a kind of fear. It rolled in her stomach, and buried beneath the fear a strange kind of excitement was mixed. Here he was, the Clown Prince of Crime, sitting across from her.

She tried not to look at him, to provoke him into doing anything to her. She knew that he was dangerous, and that it would take him seconds to kill her even with his bare hands. By the time the excitement would be finished, the police would be too late to even save a scrap of her.

But she looks anyway, stealing a quick glance. She finds that he is staring at her with interest. His eyes don't seem empty, but at the same time there is nothing behind him. It is almost like he is reading her like a book, perhaps more like a magazine that he had no interest in as his expression soon focused way from her. But as soon as she is about to open her mouth, Gordon comes back with his men, retrieving the Joker from the holding cell.

"Come on, it's time for you and I to have a chat," Gordon said. But as they push him along, Marlye can't help but notice the Joker's backward glance over his shoulder at her, his tongue flicking quickly over his lower lip. And this time his eyes are not so empty.

She shivers, remembering the heat his gaze had caused her to feel. Marlye was not in the habit to be scared of anything, but the Joker seemed to bring out the emotion stronger than she had thought possible.

She keeps walking, keeping her head down. She was a good-looking girl, but nothing special. She was curvy, almost an hourglass shape. Her long brown hair was full and straight, reaching just below her chest. Her face had sharp features but was all the more appealing in it's seriousness.

But an explosion breaks through her reverie and she looks up to the sky she can see through the roofs of the buildings high above her. Burning pieces of building begin to fall around her as she runs to see what was happening.

Everyone else on the street was running away from the bank, trying to escape the flames and the men in clown masks running towards a huge armored truck. She has flashbacks to her crime. The same bank, the same procedure, only now the clowns were in her place. And standing at the burning, smoking exit that they had just blown in the wall of the bank was the Joker.

He was staring at her with that eerie look, as if he could see straight through her. He walks down the steps slowly, the permanent smile on his face somehow not reassuring. In this moment of clarity, Marlye realized just how thoroughly frightening every aspect of this man was. Sure, he was powerful enough to decide who lived and who died, but even his crooked gait as he hopped down the bank's steps towards her were terrifying. His purple coat flew out behind him in a gust of wind, the glint of a knife held easily, almost naturally, in his hand blinding her momentarily. And it seems that only seconds have passed, but she finds the cold blade of the knife in her mouth, pressing against the corner of her lips and threatening to cut into the flesh of her cheek.

"You seem familiar. Have I met you somewhere?" The words come from the Clown Prince's mouth with a slightly mocking tone, a hint of humor. And it's just after these words that Marlye feels a sharp blow to the head and everything goes black.

She soon wakes up and finds herself in her apartment, her head pounding. It doesn't take her long to remember what had happened and she raises a hand to her head to feel for any bumps. She is interrupted, however, by the card that had been folded into her fingers when she had been unconscious. On one side, a joker grins evilly at her. She flips it over, and finds a message written in black ink, stained over by powdery clown make-up. "I'll be seeing you soon."

Author's Note

I was inspired to write this, in great part, by Debronze and 4ofCups. I strongly suggest you look them up and read their stories. I've been fascinated with the Joker ever since I saw TDK. His psychology and habits have been fascinating to me, and having a creative side it has also made for a huge push to start writing again. Please rate and review. I know your all looking for more Joker, and I promise you he's coming! Chapter 2 coming soon!