[In the next several chapters you will notice with my female character exhibiting some odd behavior for someone in her situation. It may even come off as Mary-Sue. I want you to know that I have deliberately written her this way. Keep in mind that all is not as it appears. There is going to be some subtle foreshadowing leading up to an explanation. It's probably going to take a good long while to get to that point in the story. It is very likely that there will not be any chapters from her point of view because it would give away major plot points.]

Okay, it's been a while! Some of you may have lost interest in the story, which is totally understandable. Even though I haven't been updating, I could never stop thinking about this story. There was always a clear direction and end; I constantly had new ideas coming in to my head for this.

I imagine I'm a little rusty, but at least it's an update!

Remember the time line is a little askew in this chapter. These are Joker's and Gordon's memories of events that lead up to a semi-important part of the story. We are continuing with one of Jim's memories from the funeral. Also, you'll note that the Joker seems to be in an unusually good mood this chapter. All I will say, is that looks can be deceiving. Remember, he's trying to break into our mystery woman's head.

Never take things for granted

You see, I'm a guy of simple taste. I enjoy dynamite, and gunpowder, and gasoline!

At first, he had not recognized the woman. But as he was leaving the funeral, he had scanned the crowd again, looking for any suspicious figures. His cop intuition was telling him either Joker himself would be here, or he would have sent someone. But looking around, he saw that his hunch was off this time around. No one except Gotham's high society. And her.

His eyes betrayed him, and went wide as he realized who she was. It was not often that she was out in public like this, unless it was for a political event or a fundraiser. Other than that, she was always boarded up in her office in some evaluation or meeting. In fact, he had only met her a couple of times himself. So it was very surprising to see her out here, especially without any of her usual hired hands with her. If it wasn't a bodyguard, there was normally her assistant with her. Yet today here she was, by herself paying her respects to the deceased. It was uncharacteristic. Then again, the abnormal had become expected recently.

What was even more abnormal, was that she stood there in the rain without any type of protection from the elements. Not that it would have done her much good. Everyone else who had brought an umbrella, was just as drenched as she was.

Still Gordon, ever the gentlemen, hurried over to her side. A slight bemused smile settled on her face, as he held the umbrella over their heads. "Thank you Commissioner. I'm afraid I forgot mine at the house," She said, indicating the umbrella.

"Don't mention it. Happy to lend a hand." Jim, pushed his glasses back up onto his nose, though they slid back down almost immediately. "I'm glad you were able to make it. I know how busy of a woman you are, but I know they would have been glad that you were here."

She nodded, her expression calm and collective. He supposed that someone in her position must remain impassive, just as the Mayor had. Her eyes did betray her though, they looked dim. "I would not have missed this. I may not have known Miss Dawes, but if she was good enough for Harvey, then she earned my respect." There was a pause as she looked wistfully at the skyline behind them. "They both did."

"Rachel was an extraordinary woman. And a wonderful assistant D.A. This is devastating loss for Gotham." He hung his head, Rachel surely didn't deserve to die. He hated that they hadn't gotten there in time.

"I agree." Though the words were sincere they sounded hollow and empty to Jim. If she had known what really had happened, maybe she would have understood. She could give her condolences, but she would never really know. All anyone would ever really know is what the PD had released to the press. Which was very minimal.

There was an awkward pause, and Jim searched his brain for anything to say. He typically was not the type of person to be at a loss for words. He chalked it up to all the stress that he had been enduring. "You helped Dent get elected didn't you? You must have been good friends." It had been no secret to anyone of her generous donations for his campaign. She had been the first to back him, long before most people had even heard of him. Long before Wayne. Her influence seemed to know no boundaries. He wondered if there was anyone in office that she hadn't supported.

"I held a great amount of respect for him. It seemed only natural that I should supported his campaign." She gave a small smile, and glanced over at the grave markers. "It was a shame to see him go so soon. He had some really good plans for Gotham."

Gordon held his tongue, she did not have a chance to see the monster that Harvey had become. "All good things must come to an end. The human race must keep pushing forward, keep rebuilding. That's how we've always done things in the face of tragedy," she said before Gordon had a chance to say anything to her.

Instead he nodded in agreement. In the face of war, or natural disaster, it was indeed what they did. Kept going. "We're holding a fundraiser tonight." The sentence interrupted his thoughts.

"Oh?"

"For those who have been lost during these past few weeks. Wayne Enterprises and I have collaborated together to host one. It seemed appropriate for a tragedy this big. It's being held mostly in Dent and Miss Dawes honour, Bruce was close to both of them. The proceeds are going towards rebuilding MCU and Gotham General." They stopped just short of the cemetery's gates.

Gordon looked up at her in mild surprise. He could not remember the last time that anyone had defended Gotham's law enforcement, let alone help them out. In fact Dent and Batman were the only ones that seemed to still have held some shred of respect for the justice department. And Jim had not even thought about how they were going to afford rebuilding MCU. "That's very gracious of you both. We would appreciate any help we can get." Jim could not resist looking over his should at Bruce Wayne. He would not have guessed he was that noble. "Thank you so much for your help."

Her eyes lit up with amusement. "I wouldn't have it any other way Commissioner." She touched his arm, as an old friend would. "After all, I have to look after you. Who do you think gave Mayor Garcia the recommendation to promote you?"

Words caught in his throat. It was true, she was very influential when it came to those types of things. However, never in a million years would he have imagined that she would stand behind him. Middle class Jim Gordon, who lived just outside the Narrows. He was a nobody compared to her. He felt it strange that someone who was such a strong influence in politics had been keeping an eye on him. Out of all the polictians he had met, she was certainly the most sincere. Normally he couldn't help but feel that anyone involved in Gotham's elite were pompous asses. And yet, he felt strangely comfortable in her company.

"Please, let me walk you to your car." He lifted the umbrella, and offered his arm to her.

He had fully planned on waiting at the door with a weapon when she had returned, so as to catch her off guard this time. However, he had not planned on his bladder to hinder that. Of course he had held it as long as he could, trying to take his mind off of it. So long in fact that his sides had started hurting. He had tried to ignore it. But when you gotta go, you gotta go.

So he had gone to take a piss in a bathroom that he had not realized existed. How many rooms did this ridiculous penthouse have? It was while he was washing his hands, that he heard the front door click open. He cursed silently inside his head. It was doubtful that she had heard him, so he flipped the light off quietly. Maybe he could get an uprise out of her.

Her heels clicked against linoleum floor, as she entered the kitchen. Liquid fell in drops to the floor. His nose scrunched up as he tried to place the sounds coming from the other room. They were unfamiliar. As he crept down the hallway, he pulled a blade from one of his inside pockets.

He stood there for several moments at the edge of the doorway, just listening. Still, he was not entirely sure how he was going to do this. Maybe sneak up behind her, and press the blade to her neck? How unoriginal. Maybe he could place the knife at the small of her back and whisper something dark into her ear. Try and scare the wits out of her.

Maybe he had not been as quiet as he had thought, or maybe she had seen the corner of his coat, Either way, it surprised him when her voice filtered into his ears.

"If you're going to keep breaking in, you could just ask for a copy of the key. Don't you think?" He hadn't exactly been prepared for that, or the amusement in her voice. He gave up trying to startle her...obviously that was not going to happen now. Though it did disappoint him. It wasn't as much fun this way.

He walked into the kitchen with his hands up. "You caught me." The grin crept up his face, she certainly was not one to disappoint. He waved a finger at her. "You are good."

There was a smug look on her face that pleased him. A little emotion showing, meant he was making progress. That a girl.

"Always got to be on your toes. You never know who's going to break into your home."

There was a look in her eyes that he could not place, he did however sense the sarcasm. She was playing his game on purpose, maybe to amuse him. Or herself.

"What little ole me? I'm harmless." He shrugged, and placed his knife on the table as if to show his innocence. Although at the moment she showed no immediate threat, the anger that had fueled her during their last encounter didn't seem to be present. Instead a quirky, sarcastic, yet playful attitude in its place. It seemed an oddity to him, she had not been so yielding with emotions the first go around. Maybe if he played along. He decided to switch tactics with her.

Her eyebrow raised, bemused. "You're about as harmless as the Ebola Virus." She turned away from him and began to shift herself out of her blazer. It was then that he placed the sound that had been foreign to him moments ago. It was the rainwater steadily dripping from her clothes and her hair to the floor. Her black heels stood in a growing puddle that she seemingly didn't notice. In fact, she seemed oblivious to her drenched clothes, not even showing a little bit of discomfort.

He felt his head cock to the side in curiosity, like a puppy. She glanced up at him, a smirk in her eyes. It didn't make it way to her lips however, but he sensed it nonetheless. Her hair clung to her head, and drops of water slid down her cheeks. Her cream colored blouse clung so tightly to her chest, and the rain had made it transparent. He could see the black bra underneath. Anyone else would have looked a mess, but she looked surreal. Enticing even, clothes clinging tightly to her body.

"Pictures last longer," she stated simply. A goofy smile splayed across his face. She was just so much...so much fun!

"You don't, uh, happen to have one do ya?" How he did enjoy playing with his prey. It was even better when they played back.

"Not for you," she said with a faint accent that he had not noticed before. It was so vague though he could not place it's origin.

How the hell? How had he missed that before? How, how, how? This lack of clarity that he took on when she was around was beginning to grate on his nerves. And that begged the question why? He certainly was not smitten, or swooning, or whatever cheesy saying that could be used to indicate romantic connection. Their relationship was akin to the one he had with the Bat. And he definitely did not feel romantically connected to Batman.

In fact the image that immediately popped up in his head, almost made him want to heave. If it wasn't for the the ridiculous hilarity of it. He fought not to laugh, no he did not want to appear crazy. Not when they were getting along so well and making progress right now.

Perhaps he had been too rough during one of his excursions. Maybe he had a mild concussion. That certainly explained everything. He made a mental note to refrain from heavy lifting for a while. The last thing he needed was to pass out from a head injury.

And back to the current subject, he crossed his legs and leaned against the counter for support. "Tell me dearrr," he drawled. "What accent is that?"

Another thought occurred to him, she had told him she was born in Gotham. That certainly wasn't a Bronx accent. That meant she had lied to him...and he had missed it. Damn, how long had he had this concussion?

"Irish," she mused.

Ah ha! Now that she had said so, he picked up on it very quickly. Although when one thought of Irish maidens, they usually thought of flaming red hair. Though her hair was a shade of onyx instead, he could see it.

"Now doll," he lilted over to her, careful not to move too quickly. He still wasn't sure if she had guns hidden elsewhere besides the couch cushions. A damp lock of hair fell into her face, and with his left hand he reached out to tuck the stray behind her ear. He made sure to keep his tone soothing, friendly. "I thought you told me you were from Gotham? Born here, didn't you say?"

A grin spread across her face, almost saying 'you caught me.' Almost, the look said 'I didn't tell you the whole story.' "That I did. However, my parents fled here from Ireland. Religious persecution and all that. I also spent many years overseas with my relatives. This accent I almost consider a souvenir from Ireland."

Souvenir? Why was that word tugging at the back of his mind right now?

"Did you know that young minds are so impressionable when it comes to speech? It is much easier for a three year old to pick up a second language than an adult that has fully developed cognitive skills."

No, he did not know that. Nor did he care. That was useless information to him. Though it could tell him something about her. Either she studied in that area, or it was a useless fact that she had picked up. The former would help him get into her head. He hoped for the former.

"Why is that important?".

"It isn't really. It just explains why my accent isn't American." He mouthed the word 'oh', then nodded. She had told the truth. Not a single lie in there. Damn, he had hoped she had lied so he could pick it apart.

Souvenir! Now he remembered.

The phone rang several times before the other party answered. The voice sounded grainy, and muffled.

"God damnit, take me off speaker phone!"

There was a loud commotion in his ear piece, like something violently rubbing against the mouthpiece. He made a face and held the phone away from his ear.

"Sorry Boss!" He placed the receiver back to his head. Eddy rambled several apologies. None of which he listened to. "I thought you were someone else."

"Oh, expecting someone else where we now?" The tone of his voice was suspicious, accusing.

"No, no Boss! It's just you rarely call." The rest of what Joker heard was blah blah blah. His agitation only becoming more acute. His lungs blew out a loud sigh, followed by the rolling of the eyes. Eddy kept going, overcompensating his apology. Hiding something or afraid of punishment?

"It won't happen aga-"

"Shut the hell up!" The interruption caused Eddy to halt, and remain silent for several minutes. When Joker was sure he had his attention he continued. "I called, to say that I will be late tonight. I've got some uh, business to attend to tonight."

"Oh?" There was curiosity in Eddy's tone. Joker obliged him this once.

"I ran into someone, an old friend, at the funeral. So uh, don't wait up." Before he got a response, he hit end. Joker did not need permission, nor any real reason to tell Eddy what he was doing. But he also didn't need the morons thinking he had gotten picked up either. That could ruin everything. Hired guns were known to panic if the boss was compromised.

Rain splattered against the windshield, as he made a sharp right. Honestly, he wasn't sure who the SUV belonged to. Someone that had attended the D.A's funeral. That was all he knew. Imagine the look on their face when their car was no longer parked atop the hill. Maybe they would look around confused. Maybe they had parked somewhere else? A childish giggle emerged from his lips. How he loved a good joke. Too bad he wouldn't get to see it executed.

For the meantime the clouds had parted and the rain stopped. He ditched the car and walked the rest of the way. No one was out. Not a soul. He knew it would be that way. Gotham was shaking in its boots.

The wind picked up again, and droplets of rain splattered to the ground from the branches of the trees above him. He imagined it blood splattering to the pavement. That would have been much more colorful. The streets drenched with blood.

He was in a mood today, a good one. He skipped the rest of the way, gleefully. So ready to play.

Then the thought embedded in his brain, who on Earth was Eddy expecting?

Buildings whizzed by, their shape distorted by the speed of the car. Traffic was light today, allowing the vehicle to move quite quickly across town. Trees blurred together, a greenish blur. A beautiful spring day.

Gordon shook his head again. What was so special about today? How could it seem so calm and serene today?

Maybe God had decided that he needed a break today. If that was the case, he was thankful.

Bruce Springsteen filtered through the car stereo, Jim smiled. The mood so much lighter today. He really had needed this today.

The buildings started to take shape as the car slowed for a red light. He hated this light. It was on a timer, one of the older ones in the city. It was one of the longest lights, set for normally heavy traffic. As he waited patiently for the light to turn green, he looked out of his window.

Some men were in the process of loading trucks, struggling under the weight of the crates. He noticed the large orange UHAUL painted on the side on a couple of the trucks.

They looked tired, just like the rest of Gotham's citizens.

The sign said Allen's Windows. Underneath was a marquee where someone had recently put up a sign that said 'out of business'. He shook his head, so many people leaving Gotham meant poor economy for locally owned businesses.

The light finally turned green. Jim put the car into gear and stepped on the gas.

This was not the first business to suffer this year. Ever since the Joker had appeared there had been an abrupt halt to business from outside vendors. Which was normally how the small businesses thrived. Gordon hadn't even remembered Allen's being in business for very long. They had been fairly new to the area actually. The place had been vacant for nearly two years.

Then Gordon had seen the movers in late winter. Right before...

Oh dear God.

He fumbled for the phone, his palms suddenly sweaty. Da dum...da dum. His heart pounded faster and louder. Finally he made purchase, the phone seemed so slippery. Gordon looked hastily over his shoulder, and pulled off to the side of the road. Something told him that his mind wouldn't be able to to multitask right now.

His fingers dialed numbly, and then there was the ringing. "Gotham Major Crime Unit. How may I direct your call?"

Sally had never sounded pleasant on the phone. In fact, Gordon hadn't the slightest clue who's idea it had been to put her at the front desk. She and Gordon had never really gotten along, so at the moment, she was doing little for his nerves. "Sally transfer me to Officer Stanley Sleagle."

"One moment," she sounded annoyed. He would have to have a talk with her later about that.

"This is Officer Sleagle."

"Stan, it's me."

"Jim, what the hell are you doing calling the station? It's your day off!"

Jim bypassed friendly banter and went straight for the point. "Stan, I got a lead on the location of the Joker. I need you to find out who bought the property on 14th and Cambridge."

"Allen's Windows? I pass that place everyday on the way home. Jim are you sure about that?"

"Positive. You remember when the property was bought?"

"Yeah, a few months ago."

Jim ran a hand through his hair, then pushed his glasses back up. "Right before the Joker started terrorizing our city."

There was a tired sigh on the other end. "That could just be a coincidence. A lot of businesses started a few months ago." He heard another sigh and some shuffling of papers. "What makes you think he's there?"

"Tell me Stan, have you even heard of anyone using their services?"

"No." The tone was hesitant.

"Me neither. And I haven't seen advertisements of any kind."

"Maybe they don't have the money Jim."

"No...come to think of it, I've never even seen any work trucks being loaded for a job."

"So?" The tone in Stan's voice was doubtful.

"So, I just passed the place and they are loading UHAULS. And the crates don't look like they are carrying any type of windows or supplies for windows. It's too much of a coincidence that they go out of business as we are combing this area of Gotham. Something is off about it. I know it Stan. They didn't make me Commissioner for my good looks."

Stan chuckled. "Alright Jim. I'll get a hold of a copy of the deed this afternoon."

"You call me the minute you get it."

He hung up the phone. No reason to keep Stan from the matter.

Besides he had a family to go home to. He'd be damned if he didn't at least get to spend the afternoon with them before the news came in. If his hunch was right, he was cutting his vacation short.

Though he hoped the Joker had not been hiding under their noses, he prayed that they could finally catch the bastard.

Maybe God was looking out for him.

"Tell me about your...souvenirs."

Swiftly he pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and sat down. His fingers laced and he leaned forward like a curious child.

She held her hand on her hip, watching him with an almost accusing smile. "Been doing some snooping around, have you?" There was the tone to her voice again. The one that an adult uses with a mischievous child. She may have been playing nice with him, but he was far from fooled. That was fine, he wanted to play.

He answered with a sheepish grin. Her eyebrow went up, becoming more and more entertained by the whole situation. His shoulders shrugged, "I got bored."

"I'll bet."

He leaned forward, a little further; then gestured with his arms for her to continue with a flourish.

For several moments she watched him, debating on whether or not to reveal anything to him. Calculating her next move. She may have been more relaxed this time around, but she certainly did not trust him any more. A smirk escaped his lips, he pretended to look at a watch that was not present on his wrist.

She humored him and feigned deep concentration. "What would you like to know about them," she asked at last.

He enjoyed the fact that she was playing along with him, in fact it seemed that she was having as much fun as he was. "Well, for starters...where did you get them?"

She cracked a grin, and unsuccessfully suppressed a chuckle. "I thought the plaques would have been pretty self explanatory. Apparently not."

Damn, he had worded the question wrong. Stupid elementary mistake. Tonight he was sending Walt to find a doctor for him. It was very unlike him to make this many slip ups, or any slip ups for that matter. It certainly was time for an MRI and CT scan.

He kept the disappointment from creeping into his face and remained passive to the insult. "I meant-tuh, what keeps you traveling to such exotic destinations?"

"What I do for a living keeps me traveling." It was a simple generic statement. It was the answer to his question but not what he had been looking for. Uninformative. He was sure she had meant for it to be that way. She was really a very smart thing. Covering her tracks, just like him.

And there was something else that irked him, he had been wrong. He was never wrong. He had been absolutely sure that her traveling had been personal. Damn if this head injury wasn't infuriating him.

This was going to take a much more direct approach if he was going to get anything out of her. It almost felt as if he was interrogating a stubborn victim with a misplaced sense of heroism. He decided to treat her as such, without the hostility. What was that saying? You catch more flies with honey?

Attempting to humanize himself and appear to be as innocent as possible, he mimicked the expression someone would use when talking to a close friend. Then he looked directly into her eyes. Eyes of emerald. That's all they seemed to be. Though her face held a smile, he did not see the emotion in her eyes. Instead they were oddly, cold. Inhuman almost. They were going backwards now. Or perhaps they had never moved forward. He began to wonder if her humanity before had been a pretense. He refused to believe that. Something had to have put her on guard. Whether it was himself or something earlier, he couldn't guess. That's right...the funeral. He had forgotten. Normal people mourn at funerals. He simply found them humorous.

Still though, she didn't seem to be in grief. Instead strangely calm and collected. Recognition clicked. The look in her eyes was scrutiny. Looking for some sort of weakness, it was familiar. Similar to looking in a mirror.

So he pulled out his best imitation of being cordial. His amusement made it easy to make the smile reach his eyes. Though he was not entirely sure how one could appear less menacing, but her certainly made the effort. He just hoped it had worked.

"And what is it that you do," he asked conversationally. That in itself was a big joke. The Joker having a normal conversation. It was hilarious.

She made a noise that sounded like a smirk. "That was a nice try, but my parents told me not to indulge too much to strangers."

It wasn't a surprise that it didn't work, after all she seemed more than moderately intelligent. He went for the humor. "I'm hardly a stranger sweetheart. I'm all over the place," he said while spreading his arms wide. She continued to watch him without replying. "Come one now. You can tell Mr. J. I'm a man you can trust, look at this face. Doesn't it scream friendly?"

Her mouth twitched at the joke, but her arms remained folded. A sign that she was still on the defense. "I'm a business woman that dabbles in some volunteer work."

"What kind of business?"

"The important kind."

There was a giddy sort of feeling in his chest. No one had ever played the game with him, let alone for this long. Now if only she wasn't so uptight. Such an ice princess.

"Aw, come on now. You're not giving me anything to work with."

"I'm sorry, you must be under the impression that I like you."

He feigned hurt. "You mean you don't?" They both smiled, the joke becoming funnier.

"Afraid not. Why, does it hurt your feelings?"

The phone call came at five in the morning. It seemed earlier than that. A lot earlier. The only light that filtered through the windows was the pale illumination from the streetlamps outside. As a matter of fact, Gordon was highly surprised that the faint ringing of the cell had woken him up.

He had been dreaming of his grandparents farm in West Virginia, of the pastures. A chocolate colored cow had been staring him in the face, mooing at him. Well, actually when the cow opened his mouth, it rang at him. Brrrng brrrng. As Jim had pondered on how obscure that had been, he faded into consciousness.

It took several seconds for anything to register, and soon he was reaching out blindly for his cell. Of course he managed to knock his glasses onto the floor in the process. Then he felt his hand wrap around something rectangular. Squinting, he managed to see the green button and he hastily pressed it. The screen had said incoming call from Precinct.

"This is Gordon," he said as he sat up quickly. His hands fumbled around on the floor for his glasses. When he found them, hurriedly shoved them on his face. Looking over his shoulder he was shocked to see that Barbara was still deep asleep.

"Jim it's Stan."

The call certainly had not come when Jim had expected it, but it had to be urgent of Stan had called at this ungodly hour. "One second Stan. Barbara is sleeping."

The other man remained silent as Jim tiptoed out of his room, quietly shutting the door behind him. "Okay, what have you got for me?" Gordon headed for the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. His gut told him he was going to need it.

There was a exhausted sounding sigh on the other end of the line, followed by a silence that was uncharacteristic of Stan. "Okay, I got your info for the Warehouse at 14th and Cambridge. Sorry for the delay. They faxed it in late last night. Nobody wanted to work with me on it. Especially since I didn't mention why we needed it. You know, just in case he has Intel there." Jim listened as he dumped the coffee grounds into the filter.

"That's fine Stan. I'm sure you had other things to do. After all, a hunch isn't as important as solid leads." He punched the brew button on the coffee pot and pulled out a kitchen chair from the table.

"Well Jim, wait to make that assumption after I tell you what I found."

This sounded intriguing, Stan sounded hopeful. "Go ahead. What've you got?"

Jim heard the rustle of papers for a few moments followed by, "I have here one deed for allotted property on 14th and Cambridge in the name of one Joseph Kerr." There was the sound of more shuffling papers. "I also have a bill of sale for allotted property from Gutierrez Realty to one Joseph Kerr, for the amount of $500,000. Dated March 2008."

Jim frowned. Not exactly what he had hoped for. Actually he hadn't exactly been sure what he had been expecting. Perhaps he had thought the place shouldn't have been occupied. It wouldn't have been uncharacteristic of the Joker to just waltz into an abandoned property. Why did Stan have to call him so early to tell him that? He should have told Stan to call only if it was urgent.

"Sounds legit to me. Sorry I wasted your time Stan."

"Now wait a minute. Listen to this, the whole amount was paid in cash."

Jim perked up a little. "Who has that kind of cash to throw around like that? It doesn't make sense if they had that kind of money and now they're going out of business."

Excitement started to creep into Stan's voice. "I know. Now take the name Joseph Kerr."

"What about it?"

"Tell me Jim, how many guys do you know named Joseph that goes by Joseph. What I mean to say is, let's say you have a friend named Joseph what are you more likely to call him?"

He pondered on that for a minute. Actually he had a friend named Joseph. "I have a buddy named Joseph. We call him Joe. So what, you're saying this guy probably goes by Joe Kerr.." Gordon stopped in the middle of his sentence. My God. It was...genius. Loath as he was to admit it. "Joe Kerr. Joekerr. Joker." That was an awful strange coincidence.

"I know Jim, that's actually why I'm late on calling you. As soon as I realized it I spent all night searching Gotham, Bludhaven, and surrounding areas for property in the name of Joseph Kerr. The time got away from me."

"I know how that goes, trust me. So anything else in the name of Joseph Kerr?"

"No, but I do have one property in Bludhaven under the name of Jessie Terr vacated last year. See the similarity there?"

"Sounds like a terrible rhyme. But I get it. Jessie Terr becomes Jester."

Already Jim was up searching for a fresh pair of clothes. This was big. Their first solid lead on the son of a bitch. He'd be damned if he wasn't going to be there for this one. And they'd have to do it quickly. He'd be lucky if they could make it there in time. For all he knew, they could have finished their moving last night when he had seen them.

"Stan I need you to put together a raid team immediately. Get the best, as many as you possibly can. Call people in if you have to." He pulled his boots on haphazardly. "Tell them Commissioners orders." Already he was making his way back into the kitchen. "Get a forensics team together too. Even if they're gone we might be able to get some evidence out of the place. Fingerprints of his guys. Something." Hot liquid splashed onto the counter as he poured coffee into his mug in a rush. He thought about cream, then decided he did not have the time. He'd drink it black.

Stan was audibly writing this down on the other line. "Have paramedics on standby just in case there is firefight. I'll be there in," he checked his watch. "Thirty minutes. We'll have briefing in an hour. Raid commences at ten hundred hours. I want it to be light when we go."

Jim didn't bother with a tie. He was going to be putting SWAT armor on anyway. "Good work Stan. I'll see you in a few."

After hanging up the phone he turned around to see Barbara in the doorway. Obviously he had not been as quiet as he had thought. "So you're going then?"

All he could do was nod gravely. "I'm sorry Barbara. I.."

She cut him off, raising her hand. "I know. Duty calls." She looked disappointed. He hated that look in her eyes. It was almost accusing. His wife seemed to pick up on that. "Jim I knew the risks when I married a cop. Don't beat yourself up. But I do wish you could be home more often."

Gordon hung his head, it stung. He wanted to be here too, but if he didn't do this than his family wouldn't be safe. Not a single family in Gotham would be safe. "We have a solid lead Barbara. I have to be there for this one."

Instead of answering she kissed him, catching him off guard. Out of habit, he pulled her closer and ran his fingers through her hair. She pulled back, tears sparkling in her eyes; but refusing to fall. "Just don't die on me again."

Okay here you guys. Hope you liked it.

There has always been different ideas on where Gotham is located. For this particular story, I've imagined it is located in New York.

So, any guesses on our mystery woman yet? She is from the Batman Universe, but she has a way different origin story. She's not exactly a politician here, but has a big influence on them.

Joker thinks he may have a concussion, and that is what is making him make mistakes. This is quite possible since he was in quite few fights in TDK.

In the following chapters, we're going to see her reaction to Joker's victims that are supposed to look like her.

Anyone notice how she is the one toying with him instead of vice versa? That's waaay important later!