The first thing Rachel noticed as consciousness returned was a sharp pain in the back of the head. The next thing, as she tried to move her hands to inspect the pain, was that her limbs were tied down. She opened her eyes and blinked against the minor light sensitivity that came with the injury. Once her eyes were able to focus, she looked around to find that she was in a dirty room with a door in front of her, a table, and another chair. Her hands were tied to the arms to her chair and her feet to the front legs. Panic began to sink in as she remembered what had happened back at her apartment. She glanced around nervously looking for anything to possibly release her, but there was nothing else in the room and even if there was, she could not move thanks to the rather inconvenient bonds. Through the silence she heard footsteps approach.

Even before the door opened, she knew who it was, and right now, she wished she could be wrong. There stood the Joker in all his painted terror. It felt as if he moved in slow motion as she studied every part of his appearance. His hair, a bright blond, was tinted green, the way her friend's sometimes did in the summer after too much chlorine, and his face was roughly painted white and black. He appeared to be quite young, early thirties, maybe even late twenties, but it was hard to say. Then there was the two terrible scars that ran from either side of his mouth, giving him a devilish permanent smile that he had painted red to go with his clown theme. Some part of her mind wondered how he had acquired those and another part recalled that he had mentioned it earlier... or last night... sometime in the past. How long had she been out? His general appearance was also quite interesting. He was tall and thin, though not sickly thin. He also wore a green and purple suit, two of her favorite colors that scared the life out of her. In one gloved hand he held a knife and her heart beat double time.

He sat across from her with a contemplative and searching look. She felt like a pig being weighed before the slaughter. He tilted his head this way and that before stabbing the knife into the table and leaning back in his chair, and amused glint in his dangerous brown eyes. A small laugh escaped that chilled her to the bone.

XXXXXXXXX

The girl was scared, that much was obvious. He found it quite humorous that people were afraid of little ol' him. After all, weren't clowns supposed to be funny? Well, he was comical, but he was also outside the norm and people just could not appreciate that for whatever reason. He took a deep breath and watched her flinch.

"Well, welcome back to the living Miss Dawes, kind of you to join us. Please forgive the decor, I'm not used to such company," he began.

"What do you want with me?" she asked quickly, her chest heaving with panic. His smile vanished. Her question grated on his nerves for two reasons. First, it should be obvious! It's not like she wasn't dating Harvey Dent and her thing with Batman might as well be written on a billboard! Oh, and she was a lawyer working on the biggest crime bust of the century. Secondly, her manners were terrible! Everyone always did this. No one ever just wanted to talk. There was no "Thanks, and don't worry about. So how are you?" All they ever wanted to do was talk about themselves. This is why he did not socialize much. "I'm not going to tell you anything so you might as well kill me now." That was the second thing, everyone always assumed he wanted to kill them. He never wanted to kill them, they just usually made such good targets. But she was different, something else curious about her, she did not fight this supposed fact, but encouraged him. Still, death was not on the agenda today... for her. One of the goons had apprehended a Batman-wannabe and he had not graced the news with a video lately.

"I'm not gonna kill you today. It would just be stupid to waste someone so useful as you, and let's face it, I'm not stupid," he told her as she struggled against the bonds. "You know, that's terribly rude," he commented with a hurt expression. "Here I am, trying to have a lovely conversation with you, and you just want to escape. I mean, how am I supposed to interpret that? I'll end up without a scrap of confidence, crying to a shrink because of you!" That caught her off guard for a bit, but she continued to fight the rope anyway. He sighed; some people just didn't care.

"I won't tell you anything. I'm of no use to you," she disagreed. Did the girl have a death wish or something? Most of his guests would be thrilled to be considered useful, or useful in a long term manner as everyone was always of some value.

"Oh, but you don't have to tell me anything. In fact, you don't have to do anything but stay alive. It's I who has to do the hard work, figuring out a plan and a counter plan because where's the chaos if everything goes according to plan? That just wouldn't be any fun without a bit of running about," he assured her, but she didn't look any calmer.

"Sorry to disappoint you Mr. Joker, but Harvey won't turn himself in. He knows I wouldn't want him to," she countered. He smiled slightly, recognizing that fighting spirit he met yesterday.

"I'm counting on it Miss Dawes, and it's not Harvey I'm after anymore," he hinted. He watched as she ran over his words and saw the realization in her eyes.

"Why do you think Batman would come after me? I'm nobody, just like your other victims," she argued, but it lacked conviction. If he had had any doubts about Batsy's regards toward her, this proved him right. He cared and she knew it! This was his Achilles heel and it was just a matter of time until he put an arrow through it.

"Please, do not insult my intelligence. I may be a clown, but I'm not stupid as we have already established. You have to be someone special for Batboy to leave Dent, the white knight, alone. It's a good thing he can't find us right now, otherwise, we could never of had this little chat, not that you're the best conversationalist in the world. Still, better than Mopey and Dopey out there," he joked. She failed to see the humor.

"How... how do you plan to get him here then?" she tripped over her words. He laughed, a lighter one than his usual cackle.

"I can't tell you! It would ruin the punchline far too soon," he exclaimed with an exaggerated motion that made her flinch again. He leaned back in his chair again and watched her as he quickly wet his lips. That was the curse of the paint; it dried out the skin.

"You know Rachel, can I call you Rachel, of course I can, you puzzle me." He paused. Puzzle? Did he like that word? Hmm, what could he use in its place? Baffle... yes, baffle worked better. It was such a silly word! "You baffle me. Or more like, the people's reaction to you baffles me. I mean, here you are the supposed damsel in distress, and really, you're the cruel one. Sure, when push comes to shove I could probably shove harder, but you, you're just out right mean!" he finally decided. She started to ask for clarification, but he cut her off. "This game you play with Dent and Batman, it's almost painful to think about. You are stabbing them right where it hurts, the heart. It's a slow and painful game you play too! People take a problem with me offing a few people here and there, but I just hurt them bodily, and it's over quickly too. You, on the other hand, how long have you been playing with Batsy? And it's no secret about you and Dent, so that must kill him, and as his better half, I just think that's rather unfair. Then Dent, he doesn't know about your secret, does he? But what if he did? That might be enough to... unhinge him," he alluded. That was ultimately his master plan, to undo the ultimate symbol of goodness, the great Harvey Dent. Rachel began to squirm nervously, afraid that he might reveal this information. "Oh, don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he promised, and he was a man of his word if nothing else. Heartbreak directed at him was not the way to undo Dent. They sat in silence for a moment before he abruptly stood. making her jump.

"Well, I have to go. There is someone else waiting for me and I hate to be a bad host, so do excuse me," he dismissed himself. Pulling the knife out of the table, he turned and left.

A/N: AWWWWWW!! You guys are amazing! I opened my mail with 27 messages, most of them being about this, eleven-ish being reviews. I stared at that a)stunned b)excited c)scared. It is my general findings that with my first stories in a categories that one review will be negative, but no! You all were so encouraging that it was truly wonderful! BTW, if I ever repeat a sentence like I did in the last chapter, please let me know. Oh, and as to my thanks in here, I just thank the anonymous people here. Everyone else should get a review reply.

Nightdragon8: Here ya go! Glad you like it. Hope I haven't disappointed.