A/N: I'm sorry that this is short, but I wanted to update more promptly than I have been. This is more plot development, but Bruce will meet the Joker in the next chapter, I promise!! Thank you for reading!!

***

Bruce returned home after a brutal day of negotiations with a foreign supply firm. The glow from the triumphant moment when he had broken through their stony refusal to bring the price down was still with him, and he was looking forward to telling Alfred all about the tense interplay. But when he stepped through the front door, Alfred immediately greeted him with a frown and a worried tone of voice.

"Master Wayne--"

"Afternoon, Alfred. What's wrong?"

"Well--something unusual happened today."

"Unusual good or unusual bad?" asked Bruce, feeling sure he knew the answer.

"Ah, well, I don't know--I can't imagine that it will be good, though."

"What happened?"

"I was working upstairs all afternoon, and when I came down for a break a few minutes ago, I went to the den to watch some television. And--this was sitting in front of it." Alfred gestured for him to follow and pointed at a small square package wrapped in crinkled white butcher paper and wrapped with twine. Bruce stood in front of it, leaned down and saw that a "Joker" playing card with the name "Bruce Wayne" written in old-fashioned type along the side was attached to the string.

Bruce looked up at Alfred. "You haven't touched it?"

Alfred shook his head emphatically.

"Did you check the security footage?"

"Yes, sir, I did that straightaway, but found that the system had been disabled. I checked throughout the house, though, and no one seems to be in hiding."

Bruce frowned at him. "You should have left the house immediately. Someone could have been--"

Alfred sniffed as though insulted. "I was armed, sir. I didn't just fall off the turnip truck, as you Yanks like to say." Bruce decided to let it go.

"Was there any sign of forced entry, anything besides the package left behind?"

"No sir, nothing that I could find."

"Did you call the police?"

"Of course, they're on their way right now."

At that moment, a knock came at the door and Alfred hurried to answer it.

Jim Gordon was standing there.

"Alfred," he nodded. He turned to look at his friend. "All right Bruce--what's going on?"

"Lieutenant Gordon himself!" grinned Bruce in welcome. "This must be big!"

"Well, Alfred said you had a possible explosive device--"

"I said 'bomb,' actually..." corrected Alfred.

"Yes...well, the bomb squad's right behind me, but let me take a look at the, uh, object."

Gordon strode in and Bruce led him to the package. All three men peered at it for a long moment, and all three started when they heard the men from the bomb squad hustle in through the still-open front door.

They stood aside as the experts carefully examined the package without touching it, running a hand-held scanner over it, checking it for radiation emissions, and listening to it with a stethoscope. Now confident that there was no immediate danger, Ron, the head man, picked it up and shook it, making the two civilians cringe.

"I'll take it outside and open it," he said and headed out to the specially equipped van.

Jim, Alfred and Bruce stood at the door and watched. After a few moments, Ron returned with the box and the torn paper in a large evidence bag.

"All clear. Up to you guys, now." He indicated Gordon with a nod of his head.

"Thank you, son." He glanced in the box through the plastic, then looked at Bruce. "Would you like to meet me at the MCU?"

"Uh...sure, but why?"

"There appears to be a DVD in here, and as soon as I have the lab collect evidence, I intend to sit down and watch it. Since it has your name on it, I thought you might like to be at the premiere, too."

"I'll bring popcorn."

"Great. I'll give you a call when it's ready."

Bruce nodded and watched Jim walk to his squad car and drive off.

What the hell could be on that DVD? he wondered.

***

Bruce sat next to Gordon in a small viewing room with a large screen TV. Jim popped the disc into the player and fiddled with the remote until a grainy image flickered onto the screen. Jim settled in and both men remained silent as a figure in a rumpled suit jacket strode into view, his back to the camera. They could see the man had long, stringy hair with a green cast to it, and he held himself in an awkward, hunched posture. He was saying something to someone off-screen which they couldn't make out. Then, he slowly turned to the camera and both men recoiled slightly.

The white face paint was as solid as a mask, the red lipstick garishly outstanding, and the black rings around his eyes rendered them skull-like and dead. He had a copy of the "Gotham Daily News" in hand and stood silently scanning it for a moment, as if he had all the time in the world. He finally turned the page toward the camera--the visual was of poor quality and they couldn't tell what the images were--but his face dissolved into a broad grin and he broke into humorless laughter.

"This message goes to Bruce Wayne. My, my, so many of your ladies have been paraded across the society pages--a new one every week! Gosh, Bruce, do you care about any of 'em? Doesn't look like it...but, here's one you seem to have feelings for--"

A woman was thrust into view, and the Joker grabbed her with one arm, pulled out a pistol and pressed the muzzle against her throat. Her hair and eyes were wild, her hands were bound behind her, and a large white cloth was tied over her mouth as a gag, covering her entire face below the nose.. A "smile" had been scrawled on it in what appeared to be lipstick. She struggled, but the man had a strong grip on her and her efforts only seemed to amuse him. They could hear him saying something unintelligible to her, but whatever it was, it made her eyes widen and she visibly forced herself to still her movements.

"Recognize her? Oh, uh, maybe this will help..."

Horrified, Bruce had known instantly who she was, but his fears were confirmed when the Joker yanked the cloth down past the woman's chin, and both he and Jim gasped as the rest of her face was revealed.

"Bruce! Don't listen to him, he's crazy, just--" Rachel managed to blurt out before the Joker interrupted.

"That's enough, doll-face." He unceremoniously shoved her out of frame and they could hear her yelp as she was dragged away.

The Joker smoothed his wiry hair away from his face and put the gun back in his waistband. He stared into the camera and spoke in that creepy, almost artificial voice.

"Now that you know who she is, I'm willing to bet that you'll want to do something to get her back. If so, meet me at the Watterman hotel, suite 1602, at eight o'clock tonight. Alone. We'll chat. And, rest assured, if you bring any of your little cop play-friends along, or pull any kind of clever tricks, Ms. Dawes will become, uh, unavailable... Permanently. Sort of like this guy..."

Off-screen, the sound of a man pleading could be heard. Bound to a wheeled office chair, he was rolled on-camera. He was wearing a cheap brown wig, about Rachel's hair length, and a bright red Glasgow smile was drawn on his face. He was desperately crying out, "No! No! Please!" and the Joker pulled his gun and shot the man through the temple. The man instantly slumped sideways, and the Joker replaced his gun as a henchman wheeled away the victim. Bruce and Jim stared transfixed at the screen, only dimly aware that Rachel was screaming in the background. The Joker licked his lips and looked back at the camera.

"Ye-ahhh...like that! Only, not so quick, maybe... So, see you soon, Mr. Wayne. I, for one, can't wait..." Another broad grin was flashed, and then the screen went black.

"My God," wheezed Jim.

"He's a monster," Bruce muttered.

"I can't let you meet with him alone."

"I have to."

"But--"

"I'll be all right, Jim. He's targeting me, not Harvey, so he must want money. That's easy. And, I have an idea--don't worry, I'll be ok."

Jim stared at him and shook his head. "We can set up something in the room ahead of time."

"No, I'm sure he's got it under observation."

"Wear a wire, at least."

"Sure."

They were both silent for a moment, then Bruce glanced at his watch.

"I don't have much time, I'd better go."

"Be careful. Only God knows what we're dealing with now."

"Yeah, I liked him better when he just robbed banks."

Jim smiled wanly and stuck out his hand. "Good luck." Bruce nodded, shook his hand and headed out to his car.

He was going home to change--into a more appropriate outfit.

* * *