This is following after The Dark Knight. I am not following The Dark Knight Rises. Please note that I will be introducing 2 new characters one in which is Robin.

I am a short chapter type, longer than 1000 words but not over 3000. But I update often...usually every other day unless I am busy.

Authors notes will always be before/after chapter in bold. Everything following is part of the story.

Story will change perspective between Robin and Jessie.

WARNING: This writing is for fun therefore I do not put alot of time into reading over and editing so I apologize for errors.

I do not own anything but this plot (which is a bit complicated). Thank you for reading, please enjoy.

*Claire Jefferson*


"He's your father?" he demanded loudly. His eyes searched mine wildly with betrayal and anger.

I stared back at them without flinching. "Yeah," I admitted with no shame. "The Joker is my father."

He pushed me harder against the wall, his eyes tearing up with fury. "And what does that make you?" he asked with a half mocking half hurt voice. "The Queen of Hearts?"

I grinned widely, showing my white teeth. I tilted my head to one side and then said, in a very soft voice, "I like to think of myself more as the 'ace in the hole'." And then I moved my left leg to sweep his right leg to the side. He lost his balance and his grip on me slackened. I pushed him away and slid across the ground. With one fluid motion I picked up my knife from the street and stood up.

The Batman turned and looked at me for a second before my knife was airborne, speeding his way. And my knife, carved with the word DESTINY on it, hit its target.

Some of us are born heroes. Some of us are born killers.


Jessie

I stared at the girl for a moment. She had my mother's soft blonde hair with a gentle curl, her slim build, her sly smile. She had my father's dark, intense green eyes, his caution, his skills, his intelligence. All of these features made up Jessica Emberlight, my mother's last name of course.

I looked away from the reflection in the window and sighed. I just hoped there was more of my mother in me than there was my father.

I pulled my mask on, a threading of blue and black which matched the clothing I had on. I looked back once before darting to the streets.

Mom had been the perfect person but she'd fallen in love at a young age with the wrong guy. She was just too blind to see what he was becoming: a monster. At first, things were pretty normal. Dad taught me how to see things most people didn't, to know how to do things that would help me in life. Dad was a thief, and a damn good one at that. But he was insane, crazy. And when I was six, the real training began. He taught me to endure, to be the best, to just not care. He was turning me into the perfect criminal, to surpass him. He killed people in front of me. He forced me to learn to defend myself. He tried to make me inhumane.

I could almost have forgiven him for all of it because I believed he was doing it because he loved me and wanted to make me strong. But then he took the only thing I really cared about and took it away without a second thought. I was only eleven when he killed my mother right before my eyes.

The first chance I had, I ran.

Eleven years old, a small little girl, you'd never expect me to survive in New York City. But I did. Pick pocketing was easy for a kid. Oh yes, I was a criminal. How could an eleven year old survive in the big cities alone without being one?

For two years I survived by secretly sleeping in a library by climbing through a window, until my father was on the news one night. He'd made himself quite a reputation in Gotham. He was on a killing spree. He'd obviously found someone he thought enough of a challenge for him.

And then he was beat by the Batman and arrested. So many had died. So much pain had been caused in the city. I left to go to Gotham, a city not far from NYC. I wanted to see how bad it was. I found my way around Gotham. Now there was a city for me. It was full of nothing but slums and bad people. But I soon ruled the nights, using the skills I had acquired from birth.

I could fight with a knife, I could throw it and hit a target from across the hall. I was fast, I was strong, I was smart, I was quick thinking, quick witted. I was good in a fight, I could take a hit and throw it back. I was sneaky, I was tough, and I was the perfect criminal.

But for the five years I'd been on my own I'd only ever stolen the things I needed to survive. But I ruled the streets at night, knowing every nook and cranny of the city in the dark. I knew how to avoid being seen, and how to get around Gotham.

For the past three years I stayed in Gotham. Now sixteen, and still alone. But I didn't mind being alone. I could take care of myself. Besides, I'd moved on from pick pocketing.

On the streets, there were a few stories about me. They called me many names (all stupid BTW). Knife, Smoke, Night Maiden, idiot people coming up with idiot names for me. But I wasn't big enough that most people had heard of me. I'd never been on the news, never been caught by cops, and I never got mixed up in anything bigger than what I could handle.

I passed through the silent streets of Gotham by the alleyways. I kept my eyes open, my mouth shut, and my ears alert. I got to a particular street and climbed up a fire escape with silent ease. I got myself onto the roof and stopped, looking down at the city. It was not quiet, the sound of car horns and shouting in the distant were to be heard, but here on the top of the roof, the empty road below looked like a shadowy path that left it all behind.

I would have left it all behind if I thought I could. But I was The Jokers daughter. I had a destiny before me. Did I have any idea what that was? Nope. But, my knife, the only knife I used had a word engraved in the side: DESTINY in all capital and curly letters. That was my first knife, the one given to me by my father.

I know, why would I want to keep something from the bastard that killed my mother and made me into the freak I was? Because that knife was the only thing that made sense to me. He told me that destiny was not something many people understood. Some of us were born to be heroes, some villains, and some, the poor victims. It didn't matter what you did, you couldn't change that. I accepted that, I wanted to believe I had a destiny and who I was wasn't my fault.

So maybe owning that kind of knife didn't mean I had a destiny, but I had a feeling in my gut that I did have one. If my destiny led me down a path like my father, that's how it had to be. Maybe I didn't get to choose my destiny but no one ever does.

I sat down, my legs hanging off the edge of the building. They swung there, dangling as I leaned back. My eyes were trained on the street below. I began to hum softly under my breath. I turned to my left where a blanket was lying as I had set it the night before. I picked it up and smiled. Hidden beneath the blanket was a bottle of soda.

Perhaps not the most villainy of drinks but it wasn't like I brought a juice box. It was Orange Fanta like my mother used to give me. I picked up a Kitkat and munched on that too as I gazed down at the road ahead of me. I waited for over an hour there.

It was still. It was dark. It was Gotham. It was me.

And then it wasn't. The sound of a car speeding down the road came. My eyes flickered to the dark car that was almost unnoticeable in the night. I smiled.

I watched as another car pulled up, a limo. The two cars both opened their doors and two well dressed men stepped forward. One held a case, full of money I presumed, the other held a folder. In that folder was information that the other man wanted. Enough to give him twenty thousand dollars for it anyways.

I always knew what was going down in the town because no one felt like there were things they couldn't say in front of a teenage girl who lived on the slums. I was practically invisible at night too so I overheard things.

I dropped down from the building, holding a rope I had tied from it to slow me down. I was silent as my feet hit the ground and I made my way over to them. "Excuse me," I said in a soft but loud voice.

They both turned to look at me and the second they saw my mask they both reached for their pockets. Two guns pointed at me.

"Hey!" the cash holding one said fiercely, "What are you? Another one of Batman's freaks?" They suddenly looked very frightened. They meant like Robin. After Joker was gone, a boy stared fighting along side Batman and came to be known as Robin. But that was nearly three years ago.

"Nope," I said popping the p loudly. "I mean really, I'm just a young girl. What could I do?"

The big brute to my left with the folder nodded and lowered his gun. "Come on Franky, she's just a kid."

That was his mistake. I kicked the gun out of his hand and then grabbed his arm. I threw him onto the other man, Franky, who was stupidly staring at me in shock. They both crashed to the ground. I quickly picked the money bag up from the street. I nearly just left it but I also grabbed the folder. I ran swiftly, ignoring the shots and scrambling men behind me. More men had come from both cars even though the agreement was that they would both come alone. Then again, you couldn't expect Criminals to keep their words.

I climbed up a building and steadied myself on the rooftop. From there I glanced down on the street below and smiled. $20,000. Too easy. I was far enough away now that they'd never find me.

"Hey!" A voice said from behind in a cheery nature. "I'd ask you what your name was but given that you're wearing a mask, I'm just going to assume you don't want to share."

I stopped, my insides freezing up. I turned slowly, my eyes looking straight to his mask. His eyes were on the things in my hands. The bag of money and the folder. I shoved the folder in the bag and slung it across my back.

"Robin," I said the name that flashed across the news every other night. "Where's your owner?"

Robin snapped his head up to look at me. "I'm going to have to ask for those."

I titled my head to one side. "And I'm going to have to say no."

"You don't have another option," he informed me with a smirk. He leapt towards me, reaching for them both but I pulled back, jumping out of his way.

"There is always another option," I cackled. I ran across the rooftop, and jumped. I grabbed onto the different window ledges to slow my fall and landed on my feet. I looked up to see him looking down at me. He jumped down.

I turned forward again and began to race down the empty alley. I had the advantage, knowing this part of Gotham like the back of my hand. But he had training from Batman, which meant I wasn't the only one accustomed to the dark.

Of course with all his cool gadgets, he caught up with me. "Look, I really don't want to fight you."

"I really wouldn't want to fight me either," I said with a smile, the creepy one I had practiced in the mirror. It was going to be too easy to beat him. I reached to punch his right cheek but he was there to block it.


Robin

My arm swept up to hers and knocked it up to send one to her gut, hard so that she would hit the ground but not in a place that would damage anything. But she stepped back and avoided me. Our eyes met and we glared at each other. If Bruce could see me now, he'd be so mad. Being delayed by a small girl?

But this was the first night I had on my own. I had to prove I could handle it. I had to prove I was old enough to be taken seriously.

But I had underestimated the girl. She wore all black and navy blue, and her eyes were barely visible through her mask though her eyesight seemed keen. At her hip was a length of thick rope that was kept tied to her belt. Her hair looked blonde but it was hard to tell in the dark. It spilt down from her mask and I noticed it was wavy and fell past her shoulders. It wiped around her as she and I continued fighting.

Every move I made and she was there to block and throw her own. She was fast, faster than I had anticipated. Her eyes flashed wildly and she seemed to be deep in thought even as we fought. I jumped back and we both stared at each other for a moment.

"Tired, Robin?" she mocked though she was breathing heavily.

I met her gaze and frowned with distaste. "So Blondie, what do I call you?" We began circling each other.

"You don't," she replied with a frightening smile that made me cringe. She was a real character. And not the good kind. I wondered where she had learned to fight like she did. She was calculating, and her moves were practiced and flawless. I'd watched her from above as she stole from the two men on the street but I hadn't been prepared for this.

"Why?" I asked tilting my head to one side to ridicule her. "Don't have one?"

She didn't make an expression, nor did her voice change, "Of course I have a name but seeing as I don't intend to see you again…you don't really need it."

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, "I might visit the jail from time to time."

She stopped and seemed to consider something for a moment. Her face lit up with amusement. "You're alone tonight or Batman would have intervened by now."

I didn't reply but remained stone faced. She seemed to take this as confirmation.

"I think I'm going to trust you," she said to my surprise. "I don't really do that. Most people I come across aren't the type you should trust. But you're one of those dorky, optimistic, naïve, heroes so I'll just have to trust you."

"With what—your name?"

She just smiled creepily again and pulled her bag forward. She unzipped it and pulled out the folder. She opened the folder and glanced inside for a second. She was thinking something over.

I considered attacking again. She was busy, her mind on another matter. It was the perfect moment to strike.

She shut the folder quite suddenly as if reading my mind. "See you around, Wonder Boy," she said simply and then she threw the folder across the alley.

I scrambled after it, lucky that the contents stayed inside of it. But as I picked it up, I looked up to see her gone. With the money. I looked up to the sky and groaned. I might have gotten the folder but she had the money and was gone. For all purposes, she had beaten me. Bruce would not be pleased.

But as I looked off in the direction she had gone, I couldn't help but smile. I'd never had a villain my own age that could actually hold a fight.

My eyes drifted back down to the folder in my hands. I needed to get home now.


...Well thats Chapter one.

I love reviews so if you've got the time, slap down a few words. Please do not flame.