Author's Note: This story takes place after The Dark knight. I do not claim these characters as my own and those I have created are not based on real persons living or dead. I have done my best to keep everyone in character. Enjoy.

A small apartment not far from the Gotham City Narrows District

The volume on the television was turned up just loud enough to be heard in the bathroom down the hall. She hurried to apply one more touch of dark scarlet colored lipstick and swept her long copper hair upwards with a single twist and a clip. The young woman switched off the bathroom light and walked quickly to the living room to watch the late edition of Gotham City News.

"Hello, I'm Mike Engel. The top stories around Gotham tonight are the acquisition of technology giant Sytech by Wayne Enterprises and the continuation of the mysterious fires around the city."

The woman reached eagerly for the television remote, turning the volume louder. A muffled banging erupted from behind a wall across the room. She rolled her eyes and gave the volume button another hard press to drown out the irate neighbor.

"But first, this just in," Engel announced with lines of concern etched deeply in his face. "Arkham Asylum officials are reporting that the Joker escaped from the institution an hour ago. Let's join this breaking story from our onsite reporter, Marla May, for further details."

The broadcast switched to a scene mobbed with reporters outside the asylum. Bright lights were focused on one area in particular. The center of interest was the Gotham City Police Commissioner, Jim Gordon. He raised his hand up to block the glare of the lights while answering questions from the news horde.

A silver digital recorder with the initials GCN was front and center and being held by Marla May. "Commissioner Gordon, where do you start to look for the Joker? Gotham is a big city."

"Right now any leads we get on the whereabouts or plans of the Joker are appreciated, but also confidential. Releasing such information at this time could jeopardize the investigation."

Marla was dissatisfied with his canned answer. "Commissioner do you expect the Batman to come out of exile to again apprehend the Joker?"

Gordon focused straight at the mass of cameras ahead. "If the Batman shows himself in Gotham City he will be brought into custody." Without another word he gently pushed his away past an annoyed Marla May and stepped into the waiting black unmarked police car.

"Well, Mike, there you have the latest on the Joker's escape according to Gotham police. I recommend that the citizens of Gotham keep their eyes open and their doors locked."

"I agree, Marla. Thank you for that report. Well be back shortly with the rest of today's top stories."

A knock sounded from the apartment door and a familiar voice called her name as the newscast switched to commercial. She was going to miss the report on the Gotham fires as her date was now here. She turned off the television with some hesitation and grabbed her long burgundy leather coat before opening the door for her boyfriend.

The twenty something man with a wiry build and dark slicked back hair stood smiling in the hallway. He was dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt and shabby blue jeans. His date eyed his appearance once over with some displeasure and stepped out of the apartment, giving the door a firm shut. The two then walked towards the elevator.

"Did you see that the Joker broke out?" The man broke the silence.

"I did."

"Yeah, but do you know how he got out?"

"No, but I suppose you'll tell me."

He ignored her cold disinterest. "I was in on it," he whispered with hushed excitement. "Me- I was part of the crew!"

She gave him a brief glance and lit a cigarette. He could tell she didn't believe a word. Something more was needed to convince her. "Here." The boyfriend reached into his pocket to produce a ruby pendent necklace framed on either side with diamonds. "That's for you. Now do you believe me? There's no way I could afford something like this on my asylum paycheck."

Next Morning at the newly re-built Wayne mansion

The time was six- thirty in the morning. Precisely six- thirty and Alfred, the Wayne's longtime butler, was bringing Bruce his breakfast. It did not matter if his employer and friend had been out all night partying or working in the lab. It was six- thirty and things must remain like clockwork in the household. It was his duty and frankly somewhat amusing daily ritual.

Alfred quietly placed the silver platter of cereal and orange juice on a beautiful antique wooden table and walked over to the large window, throwing back the curtains. The normally bright morning was dimmed a bit due to smoke from a fire in the woods on the outskirts of Gotham.

"Oh. Aaah…. Alfred…."

"Good Morning, Master Wayne."

"I'll agree with the morning part."

"It's important to start the day off right with a fine breakfast and optimism… as one never knows what the day holds."

Bruce sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. "Do I have some kind of long, boring meeting this morning that you're trying to prepare me to attend, because that's why I have assistants, Alfred. They can send me an e-mail or something."

"No, sir," Alfred answered simply as he took a folded copy of the Gotham City newspaper from the breakfast tray and handed it to Bruce.

Bruce laid it open and was immediately locked onto the headline.

THE JOKER ESCAPES!

There was a long silence between the two men until Alfred turned to leave the room.

"What am I to do?"

Alfred stopped and faced him. He could sense the trouble in his friend's voice. The question wasn't about the Joker at all, but concerning his secret identity and its place in Gotham. "They need you and as always you will think of how best to approach the situation."

Bruce folded the paper in half and got out of bed. He held the paper up, waving it while thinking of what to say. "I can't…" he began, tossing the paper onto his nightstand. "This is Gordon's job. We had an agreement."

"Yes, the Commissioner admitted as much when I spoke to him last night. He called numerous times and I told him that I had searched everywhere for you. Not even Lucius knew of your whereabouts. Completely irresponsible of you, if I may say so, sir."

"I know, I'm sorry, but I haven't been sleeping well. I walked up to the old property and … lost track of time."

"You must move forward. Your place is here in the new house. Begin again."

"Just like that."

"Yes, Master Wayne. Just like that."

"Call Gordon. Tell him I'll meet him at the waterfront- pier number 18 in the old canning warehouse in an hour."

"Very good, sir."

"Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"It's kind of smoky outside. I noticed it last night and thought perhaps the city was clearing brush."

"Well as you know someone has been setting fires around the city lately. I'm inclined to believe it's teenage hoodlums with too much time on their hands."

Bruce quietly nodded in agreement. He stood there a moment longer, trying to make out the Gotham skyline. He contemplated destiny, omens and unfinished business.

Old St. Mary's Catholic Church and Cemetery

A variety of candles in different lengths and colors burned on the main alter inside the abandoned church. Satanic symbols and other spray painted graffiti cluttered the marble walls of the once beautiful cathedral. Through partially broken stained glass windows sunlight filtered in, but left most of the chapel in shadow.

A lanky figured dressed in a tailor made purple colored suit walked up to a statue of Christ on the cross. The man folded his arms across his chest and let out a deep sigh.

"So you're the guy who died for the sins of all mankind," he mockingly addressed the ivory marble icon as if it was a living person. "Wow, that's really impressive, except take a guy like me for instance. Even if you were a cat with nine lives, you probably couldn't die enough to save me could you." The tone of the voice was almost sincere this time. "Well come on, you're suppose to have all the answers. I'm waiting on a divine epiphany to save my soul. My path to sainthood!"

His angry voice echoed throughout the empty church. Still, there was no answer. Impatiently, he grabbed a nearby chair. He climbed on top of it and took something out of his pocket that he had found lying on the floor earlier. He shook the object side to side as the clang of a little metal ball rolled inside.

"It's quite depressing to think about. You live, die and face final judgment- that is according to you and the Big Man, of course. See- I have never been much for religion. No, I believe in letting the cards lie where they may. Your life is all about choice and never letting anyone make decisions for you. I do not fear death. One day it is lights out. You are done."

He stopped shaking the paint can, letting out another disappointing sigh. "You're a great listener and all, but a little boring. How millions of people could turn to you for answers for the last two thousand years is beyond me. I am glad we have had this little one- sided conversation though. If you don't mind I'd like to make an offering to show my respect to one so revered. I think you could use a little spontaneity."

He sprayed a crimson u- shaped line on the statue's mouth. "Let's put a smile on your face," he cackled in a deep whisper.

From behind the large main oak door opened and closed with a creaking sound. A young man entered, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood up. "Boss?"

The man jumped down from the chair and tossed the spray can aside.

Next the Gotham Waterfront

To be continued…