I had led Batman to my home, where I packed a suitcase full of pictures, clothes, and knick knacks. I had never been a very materialistic person, a trait I did not share with the Joker. Batman had taken me immediately back to the police station to wait while the search was conducted. With him there, no one had gotten hurt, though they had found a few booby traps. I didn't know what they found in the Joker's workroom. I didn't want to know, either.

Two days later I found myself walking down the sterile, bright hallway at Arkham Asylum. I was in the hall where the most dangerous and mentally unstable villains were kept. The glass walls were disconcerting, because I know many of the inmates, and they knew me. I smiled a little to Harley, then to Pam and Harvey as I passed them. Eddy was engrossed in some type of crossword, and didn't even notice the guard, a big man names Thomas, and I walk by. When I finally reached my dad's cell, Thomas unfolded a metal chair and set it down for me, then walked back to the far end of the hall.

"Ummm… Hey," I managed weakly.

My dad frowned over at me from his bed, were he laid with his arms behind his head and one leg crossed over the other. I sighed.

"I just wanted to come and say thank you. For all of the terrible things you've done… you've done some pretty great things, too. Despite how different we are and how strange it was being raised by you – we had some good times. So I… I made you this," I pulled a little book from my bag. It was filled with pictures I had copied. There were quite a few. I had had very little to do since I'd retrieved my things from my old home. "Burn it, look at it, toss it away, whatever. It was really as much for me as it was for you."

I looked over to Thomas and nodded, and he punched something into a metal code box on the wall beside him.

The small slot opening where the Joker was sometimes given meals slid open and I pushed the scrapbook through, onto a small, bolted down, table in his cell.

He didn't even glance towards me, but I could tell by the way he tapped his foot in the air that he was at least somewhat interested.

"They, um, told me that we can write each other if we like. I know that's not your style. They also told me I can visit… I will if you want me to. You probably have no desire to see me, but now I can come and visit Harley and Pam and some of the others…" I trailed off. He had stopped tapping. "Look – For whatever reason, I didn't turn out like you thought I would. You're the Clown Prince of Crime, I'm a confused and scared teenage girl who stood up not the most feared man in Gotham, but her father as well. It's almost funny. It took you trying to make me rob a bank, for me to see that we would never be able to coexist as I grew up. Who would have guessed."

With that I stood.

"Maybe I'll say hi when I come by to see Harley next time."

I left him with those words, standing and taking the chair with me. My hands were trembling slightly, and I tried hard not to see the pity in the eyes of the people I walked by. Why that exchange, that very one-sided exchange, had made me so anxious I wasn't entirely sure. I set the chair down in front of Harley's cell and looked at her with a frown that probably mirrored my fathers.

"Hey, Harley," I said softly, awkwardly.

"Hey, Sweetie, how ya holdin' up? Did ya talk to Mistah J?"

"Well, I talked. He… ignored," I felt my throat tighten slightly. "How long was he planning that stunt at the bank? How long did you know that he was going and try to suck me into your guys' crime sprees?"

"He told me when we got back from picking out your costume. I tried to tell him it was a bad idea, hun," Harley looked vaguely ashamed of herself.

"He's really upset, Harley," I swallowed. "I… I know he can get out of here. Please, Harley, tell me as a friend – should I be scared? I broke his rules, I know that. Is he going to come after me?"

I thought to myself that no child should fear their parent, or how they will turn out compared to their parent.

Harley bit her lip. "I don't know. If he does – I'll try to stop him – but you know Mistah J. He wanted you to have as much fun as we always do!" she smiled tentatively.

I felt my blood boil at that.

"No!" I snapped. "He wanted to screw with people by bringing along his teenage daughter to a robbery! No more games and lies, Harley! It's just a big joke to him! All of it! My entire life has been one big set-up, and he's pissy because I ruined his punch line!"

I knew the Joker, and the entire hall, could hear me.

"I wish Batman would break his rule – just once! There are no bars that can keep ou in, no treatments that can save you. Clowns are men in masks, but you're no clown – You're just a monster!" I yelled, and walked brusquely out of the wing, leaving Harley behind me as she tried to call out and bring me back.

I left Arkham, upset. Alfred was on his way, but I began walking towards town, the sting of tears in my eyes. I smiled bitterly. Out of all my years with the Joker, I didn't really ever remember crying except for in pain if I fell or something. And yet, in the course of a few days, I'd cried twice. Once because I broke down like a total freak… and then because I'd finally see the Joker for what he really was. It wasn't as if I'd ever expected to grow up and have a normal life – I knew my situation would eventually fall apart… but still. I had thought I had a few more years. At least until I graduated.

Mr. Wayne's limo pulled up beside me and I hopped into the backseat.

"Before you ask, Alfred, it went terrible. I totally blew up and basically told my own father I wished he was dead."

"Really? That certainly makes this more interesting."

I jerked at the voice, hitting my head hard against the window. Biting back a curse, I tried to open the door only to find it locked, and the safety locks engaged. Of course it would be locked, but my brain still frantically tried to think of a plan of escape.

"Please calm down, Miranda. I don't want to have to restrain you."

Holding a hand to my my throbbing temple, I looked over at the man sitting on the side sea of the limo.

"What did you do to Alfred? I know this is Mr. Wayne's car!" I snapped.

He smirked slightly. "It is very convincing, isn't it? I had it specially made. Even the plates are the same in virtually every way."

I was aware of this. It's why I had been certain I was getting into the correct car, not some… crazy man's. He had planned this, then, and carefully. But why?

Because I was the Joker's daughter, of course. The Joker had wronged this guy, whoever he was, and now he, the man, was out for revenge. It never actually occurred to me until then that I would be a huge target for the Joker's enemies. I'd only thought about the good guys. I never factored in how many fellow criminals he had screwed over.

"I've wanted to meet you for some time, Miranda. Oh, may I call you by your given name? I feel so familiar toward you after all my years of study," he smiled lightly.

He had perfect teeth. I don't know why it struck me so suddenly, but it did. He had a pleasant face – attractive, I guess. I tend to find older men attractive, like in the mid forties. Weird, I know. Probably some screwed up daddy issue I'd have to deal with when I got older. If I got older. This guys looked around thirty, maybe as old as thirty-five. He had light brown hair, a little longer than his shoulders, and it was pulled back into a ribbon or tie of some sort. He was clean shaven, and he reminded me a little of some classic movie villain, a mob boss in a black suit.

I really hoped he wasn't a mob boss.

"I'm not in much of a position to tell you what you can or cannot do," I said tentatively. I had reacted poorly at his surprising presence, but he seemed unfazed. He had said he didn't want to bind me, but it was clearly both a statement and a threat.

"I understand you much be frightened, but truly it is not my desire to treat you as anything less than an honored guest. I knew you would be unwilling to participate in my little experiment," his fingers laced over his knee as he crossed his legs. He smiled again. "First, of course, let me introduce myself. I am somewhat tardy in that aspect. I am Roman Harding. I was a student with Harleen Quinzel in college."

"You know Harley?"

"In a sense. She would never have gone by Harley," he said the nickname with a chuckle, "when we were acquainted."

"So you knew her before she met my dad," I ventured. "And you're upset because of how she… changed."

"Not at all, I was thrilled when she beca,e Harley Quinn. She was much easier to track than the Joker ever was. You see, I've been trying to study the Joker since before I was a student. Ever since I heard he had a child," he was clearly fascinated by the fact. I was getting a really creepy vibe from this man. He was way too pleasant, way too eager to explain himself. "I had to wonder who would not onl bear his child, but allow him to take the child from her. Your mother was a most curious study."

My eyes widened. "My… my mother?"

He knew my mother! He knew who she was. He had talked to her, questioned her, asked her why she did what she did.

My bewilderment must have been evident, because he continued quickly. "I've kept all of my notes. I will let you look over them. Unfortunately… the woman has passed. She was unwell, overcome by cancer. It was swift and debilitating."

My mind raced. "Is that why she…?" I trailed off. I couldn't finish the question.

A look akin to pity crossed his features. "I am afraid we not get to those questions. As I said, she was very sick. So sick that she passed even as we spoke."

I could feel my face fall, and I frowned, trying to ignore the pang of regret in my chest. It was no loss to me, really, but that one chance at meeting my mother had made me realize how much I had truly wanted to meet her. To get my mind off of the subject, I spoke.

"So why have you kidnapped me, then?"

His eyes lit up at that, which disturbed me more than a little bit.

"I want to see if the Joker will come for you," he said it almost excitedly. "To see if a madman will come and rescue his daughter. If he does, then I wish to find his motivation.

I snorted slightly. "Fat chance. He and I aren't exactly on speaking terms."

I thought hard of some way to escape from this man. He was frightening to say the least, and I wasn't sure how much more I wanted to hear about him or his… studies.

"But then, what were the chances of him raising you at all? And even if he doesn't come, it will give me a chance to finally study you in person. The Joker may be one of the most villains, but you, the only known child of such a person, you are a true treasure. Psychology, sociology, so many fields will be utterly changed by how you think and act."

"I'm not a toy or animal to experiment on!" I snapped. "I'm a human being! You can't just kidnap someone and then expect them to play along!"

"Ah, you forget, I knew you would not willingly participate at first. I am hoping as time passes, you will be more open to sharing your stories. If not," His perfect teeth winked at me through his smile, "we'll use more vigorous questioning techniques."

Hello all! Look at this madness! Two chapters in like… one month! That's amazing! Also, I have both chapters 11 and 12 done, but they have to be typed so it might be a while before I have time!

Thanks to everyone to reviewed! I'm glad to see not everyone gave up on me! I really am sorry for the obscene wait!