A/N: Ok this is kind of weird and random. I went to visit my mom today and had pulled off the road to let some people pass me (it was a 2 lane highway and I drive slow, ha) I happened to glance across the street and saw this little run-down abandoned house. Ok the strange part is I've always had this image of Sam's house in my mind and I'll be damned if this house didn't look EXACTLY like what I'd pictured. I'm talking identical. A tiny 1 story, old style house in a rural area. Just figured I'd share that, it was pretty odd.

Oh and the door was missing too! (Her door got beat in by the cops in the first story.)

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

"You okay?" Gordon asked her.

They were standing outside Arkham. It was a gray June afternoon, the air soupy with humidity. He could see a thin sheen of perspiration on the woman's face but he doubted it had to do with the weather.

When she'd first emerged from the corridor she'd looked like she'd just come out of the grocery store. Calm, cool, nonchalant. Typical Samantha. But as she got closer he could see that her eyes were red, her expression harried.

A pang of guilt assailed him. In his need for information he'd talked her into this and now she was the one that had to sit down across from the Joker, had to speak to him. True, she had accepted the offer quickly but who could blame her? A few visits to Arkham or a trial. Not just a trial but the trial. The biggest trial Gotham had ever seen, or ever would see for that matter. And the press would have descended on her like hyenas, desperate for any scandalous tidbits. The incident at the MCU with her and Eric would be nothing compared to what they'd do to her.

No, she'd come out with a sweet deal.....but he still felt bad for her. The Joker had a way of both mocking and picking you apart simultaneously, of shaking your faith. Gordon had been a cop for many years and still been rattled by the man. It was hard to imagine how Samantha, a civilian, could cope with it for any length of time.

"He had a television." she told him. "Why would they do that?"

"Oh....hell." he sighed. "Did he see you and your boyfriend?"

"He sure did. According to him they put it on GCN's 24 hour news." She lit a cigarette and shook her head in disgust. "That's just so...irresponsible. I didn't know they could do that. I mean, he hasn't even been to trial yet." Her voice rose in anger and Gordon could see her struggling to keep it down.

"If you think Eric may be in danger I can arrange something. Temporary relocation, a guard. The higher ups won't like it but they'll learn to live with it."

She mulled it over for a second. "No. I'll handle it. He told me he wouldn't hurt Eric and he generally does what he says."

Gordon nodded. "Think you can do this again next week?"

"Yeah. How many times do I have to come here anyway? Has he said anything?"

"He hasn't given a definite number but he gave the impression of three or four. Look Samantha, I know this is hard for you but you have no idea how much this will help when he tells us........"

"I know. And don't be sorry." she smiled wryly. "Because I know you're working your way to saying it. I'm used to being caught in the middle."

He gave a short laugh, remembering her as a seven year old in the police station. The memory had faded until she told him who her parents were. Ben and Celeste Knight. Drug dealers with minor mob affiliations. Knowing who they were led him to the recollection of a kid awaiting her grandparents some twenty-seven years ago. To his surprise Samantha remembered him and given him a brief rundown on what had happened. When her father had left Samantha had taken her mother's maiden name of Dougall. Her mother had died a few years ago. Her dad was still gone. She hadn't seen him in twelve years. Gordon figured the man was dead. Ben lived on the edge, always had, and by now it had probably caught up with him.

"Well I am sorry. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. By the way, I won't be here for the rest of your visits. Don't get me wrong, I'd like to be. But my schedule......"

"I understand." she said. She tossed her half-smoked cigarette down and ground it into the sidewalk. "Well, I'm going home. Thanks for everything."

"Hey Sam. Things will work out. Everything will be fine." he assured her, although he wasn't certain he believed that

----------------------------------------------------

"He saw us?" Eric asked, puzzled. "Why the hell are they giving him a tv anyway?"

"I don't know. Maybe they think if he can watch the news he'll be more likely to talk."

She'd broken the news to him when he picked her up that evening. So far he was taking it well......but then again he didn't know Jack like she did.

If he did he'd be packing his bags right about now.

"Well, I'm not going to let him intimidate me." he declared. "What does it matter to him if you're seeing someone anyway? If you two were just....acquaintances then it shouldn't be a big deal to him."

"I don't think he's that upset." she said, staring down at her hands. "He told me he wouldn't try to hurt you or anything."

She'd been dreading this conversation. The more she thought about it the more she came to realize what she had to do. Eric had taken her out to eat and she'd sat silent the entire time, picking at her food. The words had almost escaped her several times but then....she just couldn't do it. Eric was so earnest and sweet, she simply couldn't bring herself to go through with it.

I like him. How can I do this?

Now they were in his apartment, watching tv like they did most evenings and she still couldn't do it.

Well if you like him you should have no problem doing it.

"You know, if you didn't have a house of your own I'd ask you to move in with me." he said abruptly.

Aw shit.

She gave a short, nervous laugh and said nothing.

He stood up and began to dig in his pocket. "So I decided to buy you something. I know your birthday isn't until next month but I wanted to get it to...you know....to let you know how much I like you." His hand withdrew from his pocket and he pulled a box out.

Her eyes went from the box to his face. She hoped her expression wasn't one of horror because that was exactly what she was feeling.

"Open it." he said, handing the box to her. He looked both apprehensive and ecstatically happy.

She didn't want to but did anyway. With shaking hands she opened it. A ring. A blue stone surrounded by what she guessed were small diamonds. Nothing fancy but beautiful nonetheless. It was the type of ring most young men would get for their girlfriends.

"Wow Eric...that's nice." she said, feeling sick.

"Oh good, I was hoping you'd like it. I knew you didn't really wear jewelry but I wanted to get something special and that was it. I thought of you when I saw it." His voice was eager, face alight with happiness. "You know, just something to let you know how much I like you."

"Thanks...so much." she said, staring at the ring.

"Actually...well. Oh the hell with it. I was thinking about you today at work and I was so worried about you. And then I started thinking....she's so great. Smart, really pretty and...and laid back! You're not controlling, you don't play games like other girls I've went out with.... And it hit me....." He was babbling and that alarmed her..

When men start babbling like that you can bet it'll be about something you'd rather not hear.

"What's that?" she murmured, feeling numb.

"I love you."

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A/N: LOL. Well then!

Oh and about the stiletto the Joker/Jack was talking about last chapter. We get knife catalogs at my work. I was looking through one and saw the most gorgeous mother-of-pearl handled Italian stiletto. The moment I saw it I thought "Wow, I've gotta work that knife that into my story!"

Everytime I see a neat weapon I automatically think of the Joker and try to find ways to incorporate it into a story. We've got a rock hammer at work (aka a geologist's hammer) that is the wickedest looking thing. One side is like a regular hammer but the other is a rather nasty looking spike. I ended up putting it into "Irredeemable". The Joker used it on David the necro cop. When you work in a hardware store you see all kinds of crazy things that can be used as weapons.

And no, I'm not insane. I just have a really boring job that gives me wayyyy too much time to think of bizarre stuff.