As Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or The Joker or anything else beside my own characters :(

A/N: This is my first stab (no pun intended!) at writing The Joker or anything else Batman related...couldn't get this idea out of my head after seeing the movie, so I figured I'd see where it went. Enjoy and please review! I love feedback and constructive criticism!

Chapter 1

"In the beginning, only two things existed. Me and the darkness. Perhaps the world was already there under my feet and perhaps it wasn't; no one knows. Every day I woke up and I paced. I paced up and down, back and forth, around in more circles than anyone could've counted if numbers had existed yet, and when I got tired I fell down and slept until I woke to start pacing again. But no matter where I went, everything looked the same and after a while I was awfully bored. Finally, just as I thought that I would lose my mind if I didn't think of something, anything to do, a little bird flew by and whispered a rumor in my ear about a man who lived in an enormous dark house up an enormous dark hill in a vast dark land far away. In the very middle of his house, he kept a bright, shiny treasure more valuable than anything else in the universe. I hopped on one foot, then I hopped on the other, and I did a little dance of glee, for I had found the perfect way ease the boredom and the darkness. I was going to hunt down this man and fight him until he cried and begged for mercy and gave me his treasure, and then instead of killing him - "

"That part's not in the book," I whispered disapprovingly,"And, anyway, he's asleep."

I saw Jack's shoulders tighten perceptibly at the sound of my voice and then relax as he realized it was only me. Closing The Adventures of Raven, The Trickster God, he turned towards me partially so that his silhouette was illuminated by the bedside lamp. "You really shouldn't eavesdrop, it's terribly rude," he reproved me, although his voice was softer than usual and I thought I heard a bit of reluctance in it. Standing with a little flourish and straightening the cuffs of a garish purple suit that had seen better days, he followed me out of the room and closed the door quietly.

This was always the most awkward part of the visits, as neither of us really had any idea how to behave around each other anymore. He, afraid that he'd shown too much of his pale underbelly, was always on the offensive, while I, unable to think of appropriate small talk ("So, Jack, how's mass murder treating you these days?) and also afraid that he might slit my throat on a whim, was most decidedly on the defensive. Tonight was no different.

As soon as the door clicked shut, he trailed a hand over my newly painted walls, leaving five long, filthy smudges. "I can't say I like what you've, uh, done with the place, Ceeeeeelia," He said, smirking at me disdainfully."Beige is just so horribly boring."

"Ecru," I corrected, without thinking.

"What's that?" He hissed, sliding a hand into his pocket and toying with something that sounded much the way I imagined a switchblade being opened would.

"The walls, the color, it's not..." Flustered, I threw up my hands. It was the end of a long day and I was not up to arguing the fine points of interior decorating with an armed criminal. "Forget it, Jack. They're beige."

"I get the distinct impression, Ceeelia, that you're humoring me. And I HATE being humored," he snapped. Thankfully, he let it be as he followed me downstairs. Even so, the ominous weight of his silence pressed up against my bare neck like a knife.

In the living room, he clapped his hands together and announced, "I'm just going to go, hm, freshen up. You know, Ceel, put on my face." Accompanying the declaration was a sinister wink and a quick double tap to the scar on the right side of his mouth. Just as quickly he had disappeared into the guest bathroom, and I could hear him cackling and humming as he applied his make up. My mouth quirked a little as I recalled that my late mother had also referred to doing her make up as putting on her face. I wondered what she would think of her erstwhile son-in-law doing the same in a bathroom in her house. Most likely she was rolling in her grave.

The Joker reappeared in his full, grease-painted glory, looking as fresh as I suppose super villains ever really do. I noticed that one of the calla lilies from the eighty dollar flower arrangement in the hall was now pinned to his lapel, and silently cursed him. Seeing my eyes on it, he gave me his Cheshire trademark. "So, aw-fully thoughtful of you to leave these out. It's the little things that keep me coming back home, sis." His tongue darted out and swept his lips quickly, and he turned to check his reflection in a wall mirror. What he saw there seemed to please him, and he spent a few minutes leering at himself from different angles. Finally satisfied, or perhaps just thoroughly repelled, he turned back to me.

"I'd ask for a goodnight kiss, Ceecee, but I can tell you're wearing lipstick and I wouldn't want any to get on me!" This rather weak quip sent him into a spasm of giggles, and I took advantage of his distraction to discreetly check my watch. Three hours. He had been here, wasting my time, for three hours. I set my jaw and checked my watch less discreetly. Catching my glare, Jack started in again.

"Turn that frown upside down, sis, or else I'll just have to do it for you, just like someone did for me," he admonished jovially. Creeping closer to me, he brought his index fingers to the corners of my mouth and pushed harshly upwards. I was terrified, but it was a familiar, tired terror that didn't even move me to pull away. Jack seemed about to speak, when, suddenly, his demeanor changed entirely and he jerked away from me as if I, not he, were the madman. "But you already know that particular story, don't you dearest sister?" He hissed.

Moving towards the window, he regarded me from a safer distance. For the briefest of moments, his face was still and composed. The expression, combined with a trick of shadows, made him appear so strongly like the man he had once been that I had to bite my lip to keep from saying anything. Then the Joker was back, leaping up onto the sill and tipping his hat. "I'll see myself out," he shrieked, then disappeared into the darkness so quickly I couldn't tell which way he'd gone. Knowing that he would never see it, I gave a tiny wave and let my lips form a silent "goodnight."

Finally alone in the haven of my living room, I pressed my hands to my face and released a breath I hadn't been aware I'd been holding. I stood there for a long time, eyes squeezed shut, chipping away at the built up tension with each exhale. When, at last, I felt capable of opening my eyes and taking in my surroundings, I found myself standing in the middle of an unfinished Lego castle. The castle was the epicenter of an impressive mess of toys that sprawled out across the generally impeccable landscape of my living room. Topping it all off was a half eaten smorgasbord of pop tarts and peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches sticking to the surface of the leather sofa, accompanied by a white linen throw soaked in what appeared to be grape juice. Neither Jack or Jackson had eaten their crusts.

I tidied up the worst of the mess and then retreated to my bedroom. As I got ready for bed, I found my eyes lingering on the cluster of family photographs mounted on the wall. I slid a certain one off its hook the way I always did on nights like this, when Jack had been here. It was a wedding photograph, picturing a bride and groom so radiant they looked like a magazine ad. My younger sister, Eleanor, on the right, had her head thrown back in laughter, causing my great grandmother's veil to tilt slightly on top of her dark, glossy curls. She had always been the beautiful sister, everybody's favorite, including my own. Standing next to her was her new husband, no doubt the cause of her levity, sporting a grin that crinkled up his entire face as he offered her a forkful of cake. He looked handsome and natural in his tuxedo, although it was probable he'd never worn one before in his life. On the day that Ellie married Jack, they had been happy.

As I fell asleep I fantasized about a world where that happiness had lasted.