You've Got To Be Kidding Me Chapter 1: Sunshine and Storm Clouds, a batman begins/dark knight fanfic

Summary: Vivian Alexis McCoy has the same sob story as many other girls in Gotham. She lives alone, with just one month until she turns 18. Being a minor and afraid of being caught, she has no friends and no family. But when Vivian accidently gets in with the mob, can she survive to see her birthday with her sanity intact? Not a JokerxOC. Or a ScarecrowxOC. Or a Bruce/BatmanxOC.

A/N: Hey there! Yeah, so this is my first fanfic EVER. So kindly review. Tell me you love it or hate it, leave some constructive criticism, but no flames please. It would just crush my little soul. If you review, I'll bake you brownies!! ={D

Btdubbs: I don't own anything except my OCs and this plotline.

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"There is a house in New Orleans / They call the Rising Sun / And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy / And God I know I'm one

My mother was a tailor / She sewed my new blue jeans / My father was a gamblin' man / Down in New Orleans

Now the only thing a gambler needs / Is a suitcase and trunk / And the only time he's satisfied / Is when he's on a drunk

Oh mother tell your children / Not to do what I have done / Spend your lives in sin and misery / In the House of the Rising Sun

Well, I got one foot on the platform / The other foot on the train / I'm goin' back to New Orleans / To wear that ball and chain

Well, there is a house in New Orleans / They call the Rising Sun / And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy / And God I know I'm one"

~House of the Rising Sun, The Animals

Chapter 1: Sunshine and Storm Clouds

OoOoOoO+OoOoOoO

There was only darkness. Pure black, stretching in each and every direction. It enclosed me, entering through my eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. It washed out every emotion except dread and pure terror. Nowhere inside me could I find an inkling of hope. Nowhere around me could I find a whisper of light.

Only darkness.

Darkness that made my body icy and bitter. An evil darkness. The blackness was tangible; reaching out with wicked, vile fingers to slowly rip and tear the life out of me.

The silky ebony shifted around me, but still no hope, no happiness was instilled in me. Only trepidation filled my fearful form.

Opening my mouth to scream, I choked. The blackness was like a viscous liquid, pouring into my throat and coating my insides with its hellish goo.

I was horror-struck; completely frozen.

As the tips of its malicious digits closed the distance between my shivering body and the invisible figure, I snapped out of my trance and tried to get up.

I rose up onto my shaking legs and staggered one step forward before falling to my knees, convulsing from exhaustion and cold.

I felt that damned darkness approach me from behind. Its claws once again found me, eager to cleave into my soul and leave gashes and cracks.

I fell back, letting the blackness overcome me...

Vivian awoke from her dream with a jolt.

Glad to be away from the weirdness, she turned onto her back with eyes still closed, sinking into the sheets of her bed. The rickety bed was the only warm and comfortable place in her apartment, and Vivian was dreading leaving it. She smiled slightly as the early March sunlight warmed her skin.

Whoa! Back up a second! Sunlight? On my face?

The 17 year old was usually up and on her way to work before the sun rose…

Oh snap.

She suddenly noticed more things missing. Her alarm clock should be blaring House of the Rising Sun, as it does every morning. The smell of a freshly baked cake should still be lingering in her ramshackle apartment.

First confusion, then panic overtook the girl's system.

Bolting upright, she wrenched her eyes open.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

Vivian's sparsely furnished apartment was now mostly empty. It had seemed that her friendly neighborhood burglars had kindly removed the burden of having a T.V., blender, alarm clock, and microwave.

She moaned.

I should have known better. This is Gotham. Of course I was going to eventually be robbed.

Mumbling swears under her breath, Vivian shuffled to the other side of the chilly room, observing it on her way. The cracked white paint on her walls was peeling in some places. Spots of nasty were scattered across the wall that used to hold her T.V. The wooden floorboards creaked ominously under her 120 pounds, threatening to cave in at any moment. She sighed. The objects the raiders took had been strategically placed to cover up the grossest stains, and now they were visible. Looking at them, she gagged.

Probably blood...

Vivian screwed up her face in disgust and turned away to continue her venture.

She shivered, wishing the landlord wasn't so cheap. He had shut off the heater at the end of February, saying that spring was on its way.

This was complete bull, of course. Winter usually lingered until late March in Gotham.

Well, it's what keeps the rent so low.

Shaking her head, she checked if the invaders had found her purse. Looking under the loose floorboard she placed it under every night, Vivian saw that they hadn't. Happily, she took out the black canvas bag with the words 'The Beatles' written in white, and pulled out her precious iPod.

The brownish-green eyed girl put the headphones on and blasted House of the Rising Sun, finally getting her daily dose of one of the classics.

The guitar and rough voice of the singer washed Vivian's soul clean of the fact that she would probably be bored out of her mind and eating cold food for the next couple of months.

Laughing, the teen wondered who would want to steal cheap household appliances.

She snorted. Probably someone who had been robbed themselves.

Vivian shoved the iPod in the pocket of her pajamas so she could use both of her hands to open up the mini-fridge the burglars had so lovingly left.

She gasped at what she saw, for it was much, much worse than she had imagined. All her food items were still there, except one

Turning off her iPod and setting it aside, Vivian Alexis McCoy sat cross-legged on the floor and let out a dry sob.

The cake.

The cake she had slaved over, making sure it was perfect. She had even "permanently borrowed" the most expensive chocolate frosting in the store. It was gone. She had baked it as a congratulations gift for herself on getting a raise at work, and it was gone.

Vivian viciously hoped those crooks fell off a cliff and into an ocean.

Preferably an ocean of very angry rodents.

Slowly and morbidly, she got to her feet and dressed in her favorite outfit. A grey long-sleeved shirt with a burgundy fleur-de-lis on the front, a pair of nearly black skinny jeans, purple high-tops, and as the finishing touch, a black and purple plaid hat that covered the top half of her ears.

Hmph. Purple. I wonder if I'll get nasty looks again…

The rest of Gotham had shunned purple. Ever since the Joker nearly burned the city to the ground, it was like the color had disappeared, even though the guy was locked up in Arkham at the moment. But Vivian just couldn't let the color go; she loved it too much. Half her clothes had some shade of purple in them. The rest were mostly blue and green. She looked good in those colors.

The girl with the dirty-blond hair stopped at the door. She mentally checked to see if she had the necessities. Her headphones attached to her iPod, her wallet, keys, her hardcover copy of Duma Key, her copy of Watchmen, and most importantly, the switchblade in her right pocket. Vivian reached into her pocket and grasped it. She had only used it once, and now it stayed on her at all times.

Vivian walked out into the hallway of the fourteenth floor in a sketchy building on the outskirts of the Narrows. Taking the stairs, she descended to the lobby and made her way towards the door.

But the slim, angular body of her landlord stepped into her path, making Vivian come to a screeching halt. Her eyes darted to the floor and she mentally cringed. She was screwed now.

"Good morning, Ms. McCoy."

The man was well-dressed in an expensive suit; his shiny shoes reflecting the image of the girl in question biting her bottom lip. He had a Rolex on, and his cuff links looked pretty damn pricey. He immediately looked out of place in the Narrows.

Then again, considering his history… maybe not.

Gathering her courage, Vivian faced the man with her best happy face. He looked back at her with his graying hair framing his visage.

"Mornin' Mr. Maroni," The happy-go-lucky look on her face dampened a little when she saw a glint of something in the semi-retired mob boss's eyes. She couldn't put her finger on the emotion, but Vivian's instincts told her to stay away from this man. He was scheming. "What can I do for ya?" She kept the smile on her face to disguise her blatant distrust.

The strange gleam his eyes was immediately replaced by amusement at her words. Seeing this, Vivian's smile vanished completely. This was going to be bad.

"Well," Maroni paused, catching Vivian's brilliant eyes in his own stoney blue ones, "I happened to see several young men hurrying out of the building holding some household appliances. This led me to believe that someone in this building was robbed, but I have yet to see any of Gotham's finest push their way through my lovely doors. You don't happen to know why that is, do you?" A smile was playing on his lips, and she could tell that he was holding in his laughter.

Vivian's usually bright eyes suddenly turned angry. He knew what had happened, and was now teasing her.

Salvatore Maroni was one of the select few who knew she was a minor. Vivian had never actually told him, but the man knew everything about his tenants, just in case he ever needed to "persuade" someone.

But he had special interest in Vivian Alexis McCoy. She was mature for a girl her age and had no family, which made her a prime candidate for the job slot he needed to fill. Not to mention she was quite pretty.

Salvatore smiled knowingly at the young woman glaring at him. Something was going down tonight. Something big. And she was going to be a part of it.

Maroni chuckled, causing Vivian's cold eyes to flame in anger. She was breathing deeply, and her nails dug into her thighs. She was trying really hard not to punch the man standing before her in his smug looking face.

"Is there anything else Mr. Maroni? Cause I'm really late for work," Vivian spoke through clenched teeth.

Salvatore smirked at her, "No, just thought I'd ask."

There it was again, that glint of unnamable emotion. Vivian looked hard into Maroni's eyes, trying to grasp onto what he was thinking.

Staring back, Salvatore had to admit that this girl had balls. Locking eyes with a known affiliate of the mob… it was bold. He wondered if she was this daring under pressure. Lucky for him, he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

After a couple of minutes, Vivian was getting tired of trying to read him. He really did put up a good façade, and she wasn't going to be breaking through it anytime soon. But she sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to break eye contact first. That would make him think she was weak, and she didn't want one of the most powerful men in Gotham's underworld to see that.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that a small crowd had gathered. Vivian couldn't blame them. A staring match between a mob boss and a teenager probably looked very suspicious. Taking a deep breath, Vivian turned sharply on her heels, deciding to leave before someone did something stupid.

The people who had stopped to watch the spectacle immediately sprang back to life. Most of them left quickly, not wanting to be involved with what was happening, but three nice looking folks stayed by the doors to make sure that nothing more became of the situation.

Those people were of a rare variety. They were part of a small percentage of people who actually cared. Not only for their families, but for complete strangers. This small percentage was what kept Gotham from drowning in its own blood and misery. These special, glowing, beautiful people were Gotham's lifejacket.

Seeing this, Vivian smiled sweetly at them, hoping her eyes conveyed just how thankful she was. They all smiled back, and one even held the door open for her. Before she stepped out of the building, Vivian heard Maroni call after her.

"Keep on your toes, hon. You'd be surprised at how quickly everything can just… blow up in your face…" She slammed the door, hoping he'd get the message.

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Salvatore laughed at Vivian's obvious display of anger, causing the three people at the doors to glare daggers at him. Smiling sweetly, he turned and made his way towards his makeshift office in the back of the building.

Plopping down in his faded leather chair, he glanced at Vivian's belongings in the corner; among them, her alarm clock. Maroni laughed. He was sure she would get fired for being so late to work.

And those who were unemployed were always so desperate, willing to do anything if it meant a paycheck. Nobody wanted to be out on the streets. Especially in the Narrows.

Vivian Alexis McCoy was no exception to this rule.

Leaning back in his chair, Salvatore closed his eyes and went over the plans for the coming evening numerous times before nearly falling asleep. Shaking his head, he looked at his newly acquired clock and saw that he had time for a nap. He had been up all last night making sure the idiots he had hired to break into Vivian's apartment weren't caught.

He was going to need to be as alert as possible tonight, because all hell was about to break lose in a fiery explosion.

"Literally," he thought, before falling into a slumber

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Outside, Vivian stepped into the late morning sunlight and lifted her face to the sky. Closing her eyes, she started to block out the city noises that surrounded her. The cars, the hushed voices, the dogs, the yelling; slowly, one by one, they disappeared. Vivian's ears were blessed with silence, and she lost herself inside her mind. She began to think of the things that made her happy. The ocean, music, painting, chocolate, children's laughter, pretty dresses, singing, acting, the warmth of the sun, wet sand between her toes; flashes of wonderful and gorgeous images filled her head, blocking out everything bad. This was Vivian's happy place. No one could touch her here. No one could reach her when she was there, locked up in her mind. Vivian figured everyone in Gotham had a happy place. Without one, things just seemed so much more depressing.

She slowly lowered her head and opened her eyes. All the noises came back, and Vivian was suddenly aware of all the people glancing at her like she belonged in an asylum. She suddenly locked eyes with a particularly mean-looking overweight man and gave him a huge, ear-to-ear smile, trying to give him some of her happiness.

The man was instantly filled with fear. He looked at Vivian like she was holding a bomb and foaming at the mouth, and quickly turned and jogged in the other direction.

Vivian was taken aback at the guy's reaction. What did she do, other than try to spread some cheer? She wondered if people were as afraid of smiles as they were of purple.

Maybe it was the combination of both.

She pouted. Why should people be frightened of grins? They were supposed to make you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside; they weren't menacing.

Unless one was carved into your face.

Vivian rolled her eyes. People could be so stupid. Smiling wasn't a sign that you were murderous. Actually, it meant quite the opposite.

Laughing at nothing in particular, Vivian fell into step behind a woman holding an infant girl. Looking into the eyes of the small child, she saw innocence and curiosity. The baby looked back at Vivian and tilted her head. Giggling, Vivian started making funny faces, and to her extreme delight, the baby let out loud peals of laughter.

Vivian's heart soared. Yup, she was in her happy place. She felt joyful and fearless as she continued down the street, the smile never leaving her lips. She felt fortunate just to be alive. She felt like she could see the goodness in everyone she passed.

Too bad Vivian couldn't see the metaphorical storm clouds that had begun to gather over her head.