AN: It's the next chapter! See, I'm actually writing!! YAY! It's really short, I know, and there's no Jokachel action (PLEASE don't close the page!!). However I promise chapters will get longer, and better, as the story unwinds.
And to clear up any confusion, the initial teaser is gone. The old chapter one has become the new teaser. And this has become the new chapter one, because this is where the story really begins. Speaking of new beginnings, I have a question for all of you...but you might want to read the chapter first...
Ok, read it? Scroll back on up, all right, here's the question:
Would you as readers like to continue to read scenes from the Joker's pov? On the one hand, it would be a tad inconsistent to eliminate the Joker's pov when that was all the "teaser" was. But on the other hand, I think the teaser chapter could work as a stand alone piece, sort of just like a tag-a-long to the actual story. Also, the Joker is such an intense, multi-layered character, I'm not sure I have the stamina to do him justice if I continue to tell things from his side, it's tricky enough to do an omniscient view point successfully to begin with! And finally, I think the story might start to drag if I do both viewpoints. Right now I'm sort of leaning towards just Rachel's pov, however some of you expressed that you really enjoyed getting inside the Joker's head...so just tell me what you think. Please :)
HERE WE GO
Time stopped and vertigo split her vision as she spun off the glass roof of the building. The air sliced back her eyelids and inside her eardrums, so that she was the only one that couldn't hear her screams. She was falling, fast. Her rapid decent was growing more perilous by the foot. Panic slammed the air out of her lungs with greater violence as the trail of parked cars below her grew larger and closer. She reached out desperately in a useless attempt to latch herself back onto the building. As each windowpane flew upwards and out of reach, she prayed to see Bruce's eyes looking back at her from beneath his mask. Those eyes that she alone could recognize. And his gloved hands, reaching back out to her, and pulling her to safety. But each windowpane was empty and bare. He wasn't coming.
And now as the air continued to rush by her, she could make out details in the people getting in and out of the trail of cars. Her heart clenched one final time and she closed her eyes in preparation for the shattering of glass and the crack of her skull against a windshield-
Her head smacked sharply against her desk. There was a knock at the door and young woman stepped tentatively inside the office.
"Miss Dawes?" Rachel looked up, glowing bursts of yellow flashing painfully in front of her eyes. "Miss Dawes?" She groaned, hoping it was low enough to be inaudible. "Miss Dawes," the concerned voice repeated a third time, "are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she lied, instantly regretting the sharpness in her voice and pressing her fingers deep into her temples. A minute later, after her sight had cleared, she looked back up at the doorway, a little surprised to see the woman still standing there silently.
She was small, blonde, and young, still in her early twenties. Rachel's eyes wandered over the girls inexpensive business suit, dressed up with killer stilettos far too fashionable to be office appropriate. She frowned realizing she must be yet another intern. However she looked genuinely concerned, and in her hands she held a thick manila file.
"Yes?" Rachel prompted when the girl made no move to come forward.
"I don't mean to bother you- " Rachel raised an eyebrow and the girl looked down, fumbling with the folder. "But I have the file on Falcone for the Lau case..." she trailed off.
Rachel sighed and gestured toward a pile of identical folders already nearly half a foot high, "Put it on the desk with the others."
The girl teetered over and Rachel laughed silently, finding herself taking an odd kind of pity on the girl. She remembered her first years at the district attorney's office. How proud she had been to finally feel like she was making a difference, but mostly how she'd spent the first few months scared shitless that despite four years of pre law, everyone would see past her facade of honors and awards, and see her for what she truly was, the daughter of a struggling lower middle class family. And oh yes, childhood friend of local billionaire Bruce Wayne.
As the girl struggled back to the door in her break neck heels Rachel coughed expectantly. The intern turned around in the doorway, nearly jumping out of skin. Rachel paused, struggling to remember her name and drawing a blank, "Miss..um.."
"Mrs. Daniels, ma'm" she touched a simple gold band on her left ring finger.
Lucky girl, Rachel thought, either lucky or stupid. For a moment her mind flashed to Harvey and his own very recent, very unexpected, proposal. The one to which she had still not given an answer. The petrified intern was looking at her expectantly. "Well then, Mrs. Daniels," she smiled warmly "thank you."
"Your welcome Miss Dawes," the intern beamed as she left the office, shutting the door behind her.
Rachel sighed and sank backward in her chair. She would have thought a near death experience would have earned her a long weekend at the very least, however…she glanced back over at the ominous pile of folders.
Bending back toward her desk she began to comb relentlessly through the case file in front of her once more, scolding herself for her self-pity. The reality was that her superiors and colleagues had been more then generous to the circumstance; in fact Harvey had practically insisted she take the entire week off. It had been her decision to return immediately. She had come back to the office only a few short hours after the fundraiser, stopping first only briefly at her and Harvey's shared apartment to change. She had insisted on going through every file personally, refusing to leave anything to less capable hands. Less capable, because they hadn't been dropped a roof by a madman in a clown suit.
However for all her scrutiny she hadn't turned up anything useful that had not already been found by the other lawyers and detectives working around the clock just as tirelessly as she was. She simply couldn't focus.
Maybe the eighth cup of coffee would do the trick.
She left her office and headed down the hall towards the break room. It was empty and silent, save the voices coming out of a large flat screen TV turned to the city news station.
"…today friends and family mourn the memory City Justice Madam Surrillo, at the nine o'clock funeral mass at St Fabien's cathedral. City members will remember the unfortunate events of last Monday, when her Honor was just one victim in a triple homicide police believe to be the work of long suspected mafia affiliate…"
A half empty box of donuts sat on a table, Rachel passed them by as she walked towards the back counter. The pot was heavy as she poured the coffee, steaming hot and fresh, into her mug. She lifted it, breathing deeply as she nursed the first tiny sip gingerly past her lips. Behind her the news headline continued to play on.
"…further in breaking news, last nights fundraiser for District Attorney Harvey Dent came to a terrifying conclusion when guests found themselves held up at gunpoint by a band of rebels, led by the serial madman known simply as "The Joker". Bruce Wayne, president of Wayne Enterprises, and the evening's host, has refused any further comment on the night's horrific events. However Mr. Wayne was able to verify to news crews last night that all the guests had escaped unharmed…"
Rachel turned sharply to see the Joker's face blown up over the entire left hand side of the screen, a second later her foot rioted in scalding pain.
"Shit!" she yelled before she could stop herself, her nails dug into her thigh.
The coffee mug had slipped from her hand and landed on the ground in front of her, spilling onto her foot. She scrambled to remove her pantyhose, thanking god that no one was in the room. Falling backward into a chair she pulled her foot up on her opposite knee. It was pulsing red, and smarting like hell, but no serious damage had been done.
She clenched her teeth, furious that she had overreacted so unnecessarily. But when she closed her eyes she was unable to chase him from her mind, his leering face inches from hers, and his hands biting with insistent hardness into her face. She remembered the undercurrent of anger that had caught around the edges of each syllable, of every word, he spoke to her. She shivered, if Bruce had not been there…and yet it was because of Bruce that the Joker had come.
"You just take off your little mask and show us all who you really are."
Rachel knew what was underneath Batman's mask, but what was beneath the Joker's?
Her thoughts were interrupted when a talkative bunch of women passed through the doorway, the intern from that morning amongst them. Their conversation halted and they paused awkwardly as their eyes drifted to Rachel, sitting alone in the chair, shoes off off in a puddle of coffe, and pantyhose discarded on the floor. Rachel felt blood rushing up to scald her cheeks. She rightened herself, and stood quickly. A few urgent glances at each other and the group made to press themselves quickly back out the door.
"Mrs. Daniels-" Rachel called back, following through instinct before she had time to question herself. The intern froze tense in the doorway. "I was wondering if I might ask you a favor."
The girl relaxed visibly and turned, relived. "Of course Miss Dawes."
"Have you seen the pictures of the Joker on the news?" The girls eyes solemned predictably and she nodded her head. "So you are familiar with his distinct facial scars?" Again, she got no response other then a solemn nod. Rachel took a deep breath, "I want you to call all the hospitals within the city limits and request access to the records of every emergency room admittance dating back to fifteen years from today. And then I want you took look for admittances with injuries that could lead to such scars as the Joker's. I don't care how long it takes, look through them all…or bring them to me, and I'll look through them myself."
The girl's face fell. "But Miss Dawes, it would breach patient doctor confidentiality for them to share the records to even one case- "
"Without a court order, I know. Ask anyway, drop my name."
The girl swallowed deeply, but she nodded one last time before leaving the room, "Yes, Miss Dawes."
Rachel let out the breath she had not realized she had been holding, and stopped to question her sanity. The idea was ridiculous. Even if some completely incompetent nurse did hand over ten years of medical records to an intern, it would an entire team of people days to sort through it all. So why was unease curling up so intensely in her fingertips?
As she walked past her office door someone grabbed her by the back of the elbow and pulled her inside. She turned into baby blue eyes and a strong firm jaw line. "Harvey," she said startled "what are you doing here?"
"What? Not happy to see me?" His hand brushed down her elbow and lingered at her hip.
"Very happy." she smirked "But surprised, they say the Gotham's White Knight is in high demand these days."
He rolled his eyes and his hand dropped from her hip; Rachel immediately missed its warmness. "Try telling that to Gordon's men."
She walked back over to her desk; he followed behind her, leaning against it. Rachel noticed his eyes widen slightly as his hand moved over the large stack of files. "Harvey you're only one man, they can't expect you to be everywhere at once."
Harvey's jaw tightened, "They don't. They would prefer I stay out of their affairs entirely."
"So then what are you doing here?" She asked, letting her fingers climb over his hand resting on the edge of her desk.
"Getting into their affairs. After last night's events I wanted to check in on Lau personally, we need him alive long enough to testify."
"Is that all?" she pressed, holding his gaze flirtatiously.
He chuckled and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear while his fingers interlaced with hers on the desk below. "And stopping by to say hello to the most beautiful woman in the city."
Rachel tensed at his choice of words, a sudden shiver brushing against the base of her spine. Why hello beautiful.
She quickly shook it off. Harvey had not been in the room, he had no way of knowing what fearful connotations those words had. Her unease quickly dissipated as one of Harvey's arms wrapped with promise around her waist, a different sort of shiver started through her.
"Just stopping by?"
"Mhmm" he murmured playfully, and closed the space between them. Rachel moaned lightly as his lips dropped down along her neck, she felt him smile and release a heated sigh in response. "You know," he breathed deeply "after all the insanity of last night, I never did get a proper answer to my question."
In an instant Rachel felt her heart drop to the bottom of her stomach. Oh. She detached herself from him reluctantly. "Harvey…"
He read the tone in her voice and his eyes fell to the floor disappointed. "It's too soon, I know."
"Hey" she squeezed his hand caringly "I love you."
He looked up at her; his eyes were tired, but hopeful. He squeezed her hand back, "I know, and I can wait."
Rachel smiled and moved around the desk. "Are we still on for dinner tonight?" she asked.
A few blocks from the office was an authentic 1950's burger joint that specialed in greasy food and runny milkshakes, served by rude, self-righteous, college kids. Rachel thought it was adorable, and Harvey frequently indulged her odd taste. Although he never ordered anything more then a plain side salad himself, and never failed to remind her that he used to work in a place like this, and that there was a good chance the creamy white substance she was dipping her fries in was only half ranch. Rachel chose to have more faith in humanity.
"Of course. Hopefully uninterrupted this time," Harvey replied. He had muttered the last part under his breath, but she knew he meant for her to hear it.
"I don't think fries and milkshakes are really Bruce's scene," she answered, guessing who the comment was directed towards, and trying to suppress a smirk as she pictured Bruce in an Armani suit waltzing into the burger joint with two Brazilian goddesses glued to his pelvis.
Meanwhile Harvey bristled at the mention of Bruce's name. "You would know better then me."
She rolled her eyes annoyed. Usually she found his jealousy chivalrous, and even a little exciting, she would admit guiltily, were she being honest with herself. However when it came to Bruce it was simply irritating. They had had this conversation many times before. "We're friends Harvey."
As usual, her crossness only riled him further. "Rachel the guy's a prick. He thinks he owns you just because your parents worked for his twenty years ago."
"I admit that Bruce can, and often does, act like a chauvinistic ass. But he is not the man I am in a relationship with, you are. And right now you're acting like child," she finished, letting a thick folder smack loudly onto the desk to signal the end of the conversation. She watched his lips press together in anger.
"I'll see you tonight," he said and turned to walk out of the office.
"Goodbye Harvey." The door clattered shut loudly.
Rachel fell back into her seat, grinding her teeth. Why was it that recently all of their conversations seemed to end this way? Before she could get settled there was another knock on the door, she swore beneath her breath.
"What is it now?" she called back a little too loudly. However in place of Harvey's broad form, a distinctly female, distinctly terrified, face peeked around the corner. The girl looked as if Rachel had just threatened to set her on fire and chuck her out the fifth story window. She groaned and dropped her head into her hands.
"I'm sorry I thought you were someone else, you can come in Mrs. Daniels." She waved forward with her hand as if to insist it was safe. The door creaked open a few more inches and the young intern stepped inside.
"None of the hospitals in the city would give me access to their records," she began nervously. Rachel had expected as much. She was about to dismiss the girl, but she was already rushing on, her voice growing with confidence and excitement with each word. "But I ran a quick search in the news archives of all the city papers, and I found an article from 1998 that I think you should see, " she finished with breathless pride.
Rachel looked up, a printed copy of a newspaper article was held out in front of her. "Does it mention an incident of the kind I described to you?"
"Not exactly Miss Dawes."
Rachel furrowed her eyebrows "Then what?"
The intern's eyes lit up, "Well Miss Dawes, see it doesn't just mention one case…it mentions eight."
