Chapter One

"Shove it old man," Dawna shouted, slamming the front door to her house behind her.

This was nothing new; she was used to her father's pitching a fit about anything and everything. He was a heavy drinker; he had been ever since she could remember. He wasn't, par say, abusive, but she wasn't exactly fond of his behavior all the same. He would come home nearly every night in a screaming rage, and the next day he would act as if nothing had happened. That was the part she couldn't stand; if he was going to be an ass, he could at least own up to it. But, of course, that wasn't going to happen, not in this lifetime. According to him, Dawna's mother had driven him to drink the way he did, which was something she'd never quite understood.

Her mother had never done shit to that man. She'd done nothing but love and support him, and now, when he wasn't working at all, she was working eighty hour weeks just to barely be able to pay the bills and put food on the table. Dawna worked too, although not as much as her mother. She worked an average of thirty hours a week, but along with school, that still kept her more than busy enough. She didn't typically keep any of her money; once in a while she might treat herself to something small, but for the most part, she gave her money to her mother insisting that as long as she was living under her roof, it was more than fair that she help support the family. Dawna's mother had always had a hard time accepting her daughter's money, but she hadnt exactly had much choice, so she'd graciously done the only thing she could: let her daughter help with the family's financial problems.

That was actually where the teen was headed right now: to the bank. Apparently one of the family's bills had been late, but Dawna specifically remembered having written out the check for it and sending it out in the mail. It really was irritating to Dawna; she definitely wouldn't be happy if she wound up having to pay the bill twice, so first thing first? She'd make a stop by the bank, check her account, and see if the check had been cashed, then she'd have to make a trip to the gas company on the opposite side of Gotham City. She sighed; it was early now, so she had all day to get it done, but her family wasn't able to afford a vehicle, much less gas, so she'd have to travel both on foot and on buses throughout the city. This was going to be a long day.

"Harley, pumpkin," the Joker cooed, laying his head on the young woman's lap. "Be a dear and clean up my mess."

"Righto, Mistah J!" Harley hopped up, excited, as always, to do anything that would make the Joker happy, but she'd hopped up a little too fast. The Joker's head hit the ground with a thud, and he glared up at her. She only let out a small giggle and scratched the back of her head. "Sowwie, Puddin."

"Yes, yes, just go clean it up," the Joker said irritably, sitting up and leaning against the wall where Harley had been just moments before.

Harley gave her sweetheart a mock salute and marched off in the direction of the Joker's 'mess.' She entered the room he'd been in just moments before; it was the office of a rather rundown looking shop in downtown Gotham City, and the Joker's new abode. Batman had just recently run them out of their old hideout, so for now this seemed to be where they would be staying. She walked over to the body of the owner and picked him up, swinging him over her shoulder with strength that would surprise most, and exiting the room.

"She's all yours, Mistah J," she stated happily.

Joker stood up and patted Harley on the head. "Good girl," he said with a laugh and walked into the office, propping himself down in the chair behind his new desk.

Bruce Wayne drove down the interstate towards Wayne Enterprises, his mood quite stale. He knew todays business luncheon would go quickly enough, and, luckily for him, it was the only thing he had to accomplish for the day. He wasn't bothered by anything pertaining to work though; just last night, he'd had a confrontation with Joker, but no matter what he did, the clown somehow managed to slip from his grasp every time. It irritated him even more so that not only had Joker escaped Arkham two months ago; he'd twisted the mind of one of the doctors to the point that she actually went and helped him to get out of the Asylum.

Dawna kicked open the door to the bank and entered it nonchalantly, pushing her way through the line of people rather rudely and coming to a stop in front of the lead banker.

"I need to know my account balance," she stated, glaring at him.

She wasn't angry with him in the least, just angry in general, and he happened to be the person in front of her at the moment. She knew better than to take her anger out on those around her, of course, but she didn't bother no to.

The banker took a long moment, before looking up at her. He was a rather short, bulgy man. His rounded eyes were hidden behind rounded glasses, and his cheeks looked like you could grab at them and wrap them around his entire head. He had a small set mouth and a miniature looking nose to match it. He wore a suit that, in Dawna's opinion, was a bit too tight for his own well being seeing as the buttons on it looked as if they could pop off and go flying across the room at any moment. She shook the thought from her head though when he spoke to her.

"Account number," he said in an awkwardly high pitched tone.

Dawna couldn't help but let a chuckle escape her throat; he sounded like a woman for god sakes! She pulled a paper from her pocket and pushed it towards him. He took a look at it and typed the number on the paper into his computer and after a few moments he said, "Thirty-one, Fifty-two. Can I help you with anything else?"

"That's all ma'am," Dawna said as she stood up, sending him a mock salute and marching towards the door. She could feel the man's eyes boring into the back of her head, but she didn't mind it. In fact, she couldn't help but find even more amusement in the fact that she had offended him.

"Name?"

"Joe Kerr," Joker said, suppressing a grin. He was wearing a solid back suit and a blond wig; his faded green hair tucked neatly beneath it. A rubber mask was pulled up over his face, and a pair of contacts ensured that his normal eye color remained hidden.

The man looked up at him oddly. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Joker let himself smile; he was at the same bank as Dawna, trying to convince one of the employees to allow him to open an account, but now he let off a high shrill laugh. "On the contrary," he said. "It's completely," he pulled a gun from his pocket and pointed it at the employees head, "true." He fired the gun, and the younger man fell to the floor dead.

As he did so Harley stepped through the front doors, closing them behind her, bazooka in hand. She looked at Dawna who was just feet away from her and raised her weapon, pointing it at the girl.

"Sorry, sweetheart," she said with a grin. "But you ain't goin anywhere."