Thank you Guest for reviewing and to those who faved/followed!


Papers were strewn across the coffee table, a cup of lukewarm coffee sat abandoned on the counter, and the TV droned on in the background just loud enough so that it could only be heard in the living room. The TV was just for background noise, it helped her think when she paced back and forth in their tiny living room.

Which was exactly what Jessie was doing. One arm crossed under her bust and her other hand was in a fist, pressed under her chin in deep thought as she continued to amble the length of her living room.

Occasionally she glanced up at the TV to see what was happening in Gotham city; the overly cheerful weatherman was all too eager to talk about the heavy rain they were expecting, a tedious discussion about stock growth for Wayne Enterprises, a car crash on the bridge, and something about a missing bus driver whose body was found near the river. Overall, nothing out of the ordinary for Gotham.

She never paid attention to any of it for very long. Her newest client had her really conflicted about whether or not she wanted to take on his case. Jessie was contemplating so deeply about it that she didn't notice an annoyed Harley staring at her from the hallway.

"Jess, it's seven in the morning and I can hear you pacing from my room. What're you even doing?" she grumbled sleepily, staring at the papers spread across the coffee table and scratched her messy hair which was pulled up in a tight bun.

"I just got back from meeting a new client" she replied half-distractedly.

Harley leaned against the wall with her arms crossed and lingered there quietly, obviously unsure if this was one of those times where she could ask questions. Jessie chewed on her bottom lip for a second and rubbed her thumb and index finger together pensively, wondering the same thing. Deciding this time that it wouldn't hurt, she grabbed the yellow folder off the sofa.

"Henry Williams, fifty years old, lives in the suburbs outside Gotham. He and his wife are looking for their missing daughter, Katie, who ran away with her abusive boyfriend, Dean Broderick, two and half years ago. He said she stole, maybe, three hundred dollars from him before she ran off" she explained as though she had everything memorized, removing the pictures of the daughter and her partner from the folder and showed them to Harley.

A strawberry blonde-haired young woman with green eyes, and a young man with bronze hair and blue eyes. Both somewhere in their twenties.

Harley raised both eyebrows as she looked from the photos of the couple and then back to her. "You'd barely survive in the Narrows with three hundred dollars" she pointed out.

"I know. He thinks Katie might've resorted to prostitution to make ends meet, can't say I disagree with him" Jessie stated almost boringly, throwing herself down on the lumpy sofa.

Harley made a face. "Why did he wait two and half years before deciding to look for her?" she inquired almost delicately as if still unsure if she should be asking questions and put the pictures down next to her before walking into the kitchen.

"Apparently she's ran away before and always came back, not this time though" Jessie answered, throwing her arm behind her head and watched as Harley yawned and went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee.

"Has he gone to the police?" Harley asked, leaning over the counter as the water boiled.

"Yeah. If she was a minor it'd make a difference, but she's twenty-four—his words, not mine" she added nonchalantly.

"And you don't want to take this case because…?"

Jessie sighed deeply and stared at the popcorn ceiling. "I don't mean to be crass, but she's either at the bottom of the river or some crack house in the Narrows with a needle in her arm. I'd just be wasting my time" she told her, folding her arms over her chest.

She gave her a look. "Well aren't you sunshine and daisies this morning" she said sarcastically, pouring hot coffee into two mugs.

"Harley, I'm just trying to be realistic here. It's not like I want the girl to be dead" she pointed out.

"Then why not take his case?" she suggested, taking both mugs and plopping down next to her. She placed Jessie's cup on the table and held hers between her hands.

"Harley, these kinds of people…if they're not dead, they don't want help. Trust me, I know" she replied, a little harshly than she intended.

Harley leaned back on the couch and crossed her legs, staring as though she was reading Jessie and then brought her mug to her lips, noisily drinking from it but not before Jessie saw her purse her lips hesitantly as if she wanted to say something.

"What?" she asked sternly, resting her cheek in her hand.

Harley pulled the mug away from her mouth and held her tongue between her lips and inhaled deeply. "You knew this girl, didn't you?" she claimed. Jessie stared at her and raised both eyebrows but before she could open her mouth, Harley went on to say "Don't lie to me. You never turn down a missing person's case, you were pulling all-nighters when you had to look for that missing district attorney last year even when everyone knew he was dead" she said sharply.

Jessie looked away, exhaling through her nose as she picked up her mug from the table, cursing the world for being small. What were the chances that Katie—of all people, Katie Williams, would be in Gotham City?

She took a sip from her mug, frowning slightly at the bitter taste and then sighed deeply.

"I didn't know her long. Six months maybe? Give or take. Way before I came to Gotham" she admitted, tracing her finger along the rim of the cup.

"A friend of yours?"

"I don't have friends, Harley. Except you" she said, giving her a pointed look and Harley smiled smugly. "No, she and I were acquainted. There was a group of us at one point, we were on the lam for a while. Katie started up some trouble and the rest of us paid for it. Never saw her after that" she paraphrased shortly, staring into her coffee hauntingly as she remembered.

"Sweetie, I think you're making this more complicated than it is" Harley finally said after a while.

"Meaning?" she inquired dryly, not looking at her as she was bringing the mug to her mouth.

"You're not spiteful. You're not taking this case because you don't want to, I think you're jealous of her" she replied delicately, giving her a sympathetic look.

The cup was halfway to her lips when Jessie paused, pursing her lips in a tight angry line. She stared at Harley in disbelief, feeling as though she punched her in the gut. Her reaction didn't seem to faze her though, she just sat there calmly as if she was at her office and Jessie was nothing more than a difficult patient.

They were discussing a missing woman who might possibly be dead and Harley somehow thought it was about Jessie. The worst was that a part of her, deep down, felt like she might've had a point. But hell would freeze over before she ever admitted it. Putting down her coffee, she gathered all the papers on table in her arms and stood up.

"I didn't ask for your therapy, Harley" she huffed in hostility and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her.


Harley and Jessie didn't speak to each other the rest of the day. Mostly because Jessie was in and out of the apartment all day and Harley knew better than to bother her when she's busy and knew it was better to give her space after what happened that morning.

That evening she left to meet with Lieutenant Gordon and Officer Murphy. Unfortunately, Gordon was dealing with the dead bus driver that was found by the river, so it was just her and Tommy. She was sitting in the car with him across The Mist nightclub, waiting for Gambol to arrive. This time she was wearing a white lace up bandeau with bright red pants and high heels.

They sat in silence, the only noise that could be heard was the light drizzle of rain hitting the windshield.

"So how long have you been in Gotham?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence.

She didn't answer.

"Lieutenant Gordon told me you're not from around here; that you move around a lot. This the longest you been in one place?" he asked conversationally.

Again she didn't say anything, just stared out the windshield at the fluorescent club logo and Tommy eventually sighed and did the same.

"Nice trees…" he said in a dry sarcastic tone.

She rolled her eyes. "You know, you're the one making this awkward" she finally told him matter-of-factly, raising her head when she saw Gambol enter through the front door of the club, followed closely by his goons. The bouncer standing in front of the doors gave a stiff nod and let him pass as if he was the mayor.

"Look, I just thought I'd get to know you better since we'll be doing this for a while" he explained to her.

Jessie opened the car door. "Don't hold your breath" she muttered sarcastically, tossing her coat in the backseat and stepped out with her purse and umbrella. Goosebumps formed across her abdomen and she felt eyes watching her as she walked down the street towards the club. She felt like there was a neon over her head as she approached the bouncer.

He squinted his eyes as if he was trying to remember her. Was it suspicious she was coming two days in a row? When she pulled out her I.D he looked at it longer than he did last time then back to her face, almost as if he was evaluating if she was there to drink and have fun or cause trouble.

Jessie's expression remained neutral as he stared at her. They didn't have a reason to suspect her as long as she stuck to her story; she was a fresh face in town, a Gotham University student looking for a little fun.

The bouncer eventually let her pass and she entered the club, folding her umbrella and stuffing it in her purse on top of her gun. She scanned through the crowd of drunk and high people, looking for Gambol. Eventually her eyes landed on him, he was sitting at the bar talking with Sal Maroni. She maneuvered around people, bumping into several sweaty bodies. Maroni's eyes landed on her first and leaned back in his chair as she approached behind Gambol.

She reached around Gambol, grabbing the shot glass he had next to his hand and brought it to her mouth, thinking he was the kind of guy who liked an audacious woman.

"What the hell—" Gambol swiveled around angrily, only to have his anger turn into surprise when he saw her. He looked her over and his eyebrows raised.

Jessie swallowed the alcohol and put the shot glass down on the napkin, smiling and leaning on her arm as she rested it on the counter.

"Well, are you just gonna sit there and stare? Or you gonna buy me another one" she smirked flirtatiously.

The end of his mouth twitched into a tight-lipped grin and chuckled in his throat, as if she was a completely different person from the other day. He also seemed to be admiring the amount of skin she was showing.

"You got guts, you know that? Anyone else grab my drink the way you did I'd make them swallow their teeth" Gambol told her, tapping the glass with his finger. His grin dropped a little as if warning her not to pull a stunt like that again.

She felt her heart thud a little harder against her chest, but ultimately pretended not to acknowledge his warning and sat in the open chair next to him, smiling deviously.

"Does that mean you like me?" she asked in a sickly-sweet voice like an excited girl who received an ambiguous gift from her crush.

Gambol stared at her with an unreadable expression and then looked over his shoulder at Maroni as if he was suddenly given an ultimatum, then spoke to him while looking at her.

"Maroni, we'll discuss business later" he said, resting an arm on the back of her chair.

Maroni knit his eyebrows together, watching her like a hawk but eventually grabbed his beer and stood up. Gambol gestured to the bartender and ordered two drinks. As Maroni walked by her, she saw a glint of a gun under his suit jacket.

Maybe time just moved very slowly in that moment, but she felt like Maroni had stopped for a split-second next to her to flash the gun. Or maybe it was just by accident as he was walking by. Either way, her eyes went up to look at his face, clutching her purse tightly in her lap and instinctively sliding one hand inside of it. The cool steel of the gun felt nice against her fingers, but she hardly thought about it as she held her breath and waited for him to pull it out on her.

But he didn't.

Maroni walked right on by without meeting her eyes as he did before. She pursed her parted lips as she watched him climb the steps to the second floor of the club. Maybe he did flash his gun unknowingly. A very odd chill crept up her spine, except it wasn't because of fear.

"So, where were we?" Gambol said, bringing her attention back.

She turned back, zipping her purse shut and smiling. "I don't know, where'd we leave off?" she asked as the bartender set her drink in front of her.

Gambol took his glass in his hand. "If I remember correctly, you said you'd tell me your name the next time we saw each other" he said, moving his hand around slowly so that the contents in his glass stirred.

"Aw, but it's so much more fun to keep you guessing" she pouted.

As she was reaching for her drink, Gambol gently put a hand on her glass and pulled it away. "As much as I love games, I'm not known for being a patient man" he said coolly

Jessie pretended to stare at him interestedly, running a finger slowly over her bottom lip. The sticky gloss sticking her fingertip as Gambol watched her motion and waited. Of course she'd be an idiot if she didn't come up with a fake name to go along with her story. It was the first rule of undercover investigating and god knows she has plenty of them.

"It's Candy" she finally said,

Gambol's eyebrows quirked up. Whatever name he had in his head it certainly wasn't that. "Candy…" he repeated questionably.

"Yep" she replied, popping the p and eyed her drink. "So did I win my drink back?" she asked in a casual yet sultry tone.

Seeming satisfied, he pushed the drink back to her. Gambol watched as she took a sip. "So where did you say you were from?" he asked, rubbing his thumb against the side of his index finger.

"I didn't" she responded, turning towards the counter and leaned against it with her arms crossed. "I sort of go where the wind takes me. Thought it was time to stop doing that and I moved here and started going to Gotham University"

"Really…" he said slowly, sliding his hand on top of her wrist and placed a little pressure on it. "Because I have a guy in Gotham U. He's never seen you before"

Her hand twitched under his, but he didn't tighten his hold because he was already putting enough pressure to keep her from moving it away. She didn't tense under his hand either, that would've definitely given her away. Gambol didn't take his off her and she figured he wouldn't until she gave an answer. It was then she realized that he had his goons scattered all over the club. They were the only ones not enjoying the amenities of the club, but standing around and occasionally looking towards their boss. It was as if Gambol was expecting her to book it after what he found out.

No.

She wasn't going to run because she wasn't fazed in the least. They might've caught her in a lie, but they still didn't know who she was or that she was helping the cops. If they did then they wouldn't have to go through all this trouble. It would've been easier to lead her in a secluded location and put a bullet in the back of her head then dump her in the river. But they weren't doing that. Besides, she had a backup plan in case something like this happened.

She sighed resignedly and gazed at Gambol whose cold eyes glared at her as he waited for her to speak, maybe expecting her babble in order to cover for herself.

"Alright you caught me, handsome" she said, remaining as cool as a cucumber and slowly sliding her hand out from underneath his. He let her, but still kept his arm on the back of her chair so that she was trapped between his arm and the counter. Jessie turned in her chair and rested her chin on her fist, facing him. "I don't go to Gotham U. Hell, I'm not even a student" she admitted.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked coldly. Yet, he seemed intrigued by how calm she was.

And why shouldn't she be? Candy had nothing to hide.

"I work the nights, if you catch my drift" she told him, quirking her eyebrows knowingly.

Gambol slowly raised his chin and dropped the arm he had on the back of her chair on his leg, leaning back in his seat disappointedly. "You're a hooker" he sighed.

"Ah," she stopped, pressing a finger on his lips as the last syllable left his mouth. "Escort, handsome. High-class escort" she corrected.

"Escort, huh?"

"Yeah," she said simply with a shrug of her shoulder. "You know, I get paid to be wine and dined by you, be your arm candy for the evening, and at the end of the night…I give you what you wanted from the beginning" she whispered suggestively, bringing her drink to her lips.

"Why lie to me?" he asked seriously, picking up his own glass.

"You seem like the kind of guy that likes a smart girl. So, I pretended to be a smart girl. Truth be told, I've never been to college, didn't finish high school either" she admitted, as soon as she said it she began to wonder if she was laying on the lie pretty thick.

Gambol watched her and breathed deeply. "How do I know you're not a cop?" he said, picking up his own glass.

She might've been like a cop, but she wasn't a literal one. The short answer was no, but she had a feeling that simple denial wouldn't be enough to satisfy him. Was there a way to draw his attention away from the question?

Then a quick idea popped into her head and she put a hand on his shoulder, trailing it down to his chest.

"Oh, I can be a cop if that's what you're into" she whispered, tracing her fingers along his tie. His eyes watching her fingers. "But if you're not interested in me, I guess I'll get out of your hair" she said, fixing his tie quickly and hopped off the chair, but Gambol blocked her with his arm as she was turning away.

"I never said that" he answered quietly, nodding his head once politely (in his own way) for her to take a seat and finish her drink.

Jessie smiled to herself triumphantly as she sat back down, keeping her purse on her lap as always. He put his hand on the small of her bare back, making her flinch a little but he didn't seem to notice.

"So, what brings you all the way to this nightclub?" Gambol asked curiously, ordering another round of drinks.

"Oh nothing, I was only looking for someone more exciting than another suit from the financial sect" she replied as the bartender pushed another round of drinks towards them.

Gambol was quiet for a moment as if he was considering her answer. He stared at the alcohol in his glass as if he was expecting to find a bug in it or something. "You really don't know who we are, do you?" he finally said, taking a drink from his glass.

"You asked me that same thing last time" she pointed out, bringing her glass to her.

Gambol put an arm around her shoulders. "We're dangerous men" he told her, bringing his drink to his mouth. He said it as though he was expecting her to run out screaming.

"You and the other guy said that last time too. What was his name again, uh…Macaroni?" she asked uncertainly.

Gambol snorted in his drink, choking slightly and pounded a fist on his chest and coughed. "His name's Maroni" he corrected after he managing to clear his airway and Jessie grinned slyly into her glass. A joke, good or bad, always works in favor. "Man, don't tell him you said that" he added

Jessie leaned closer to him. "Let's make it our little secret" she suggested, tapping her finger on the bridge of his nose. Jessie made a mental note to thank Harley for her pointers on flirting later when she noticed Gambol leer (albeit uncomfortably) when she said that.

"That's fine with me, girl" he said huskily, pulling her in closer.

Jessie laughed girlishly and ran her fingers against his hand on her shoulder. "So you gonna tell me what makes you so dangerous?" she sweet-talked.

For a moment Jessie thought he was going to lean in for a kiss, but instead he spoke. "Mobster" he informed nonchalantly "You want to run now?"

He was smart, she'll give him that much. Any sane, self-respecting woman would go running after hearing him confess something like that. Even if she was playing the role of a glorified hooker, not being scared at all would come off as suspicious. There needed to be a balance between shock and indifference.

Jessie raised both of her eyebrows high. "Oh" she said offhandedly, pretending to let this new information sink in and awkwardly pulled away.

Gambol pulled his arm away from around her shoulders as she leaned against the counter with her arms crossed. "Well, you want to run yet?" he repeated, waiting as though he was expecting her to take off running.

She pretended to swallow. "That depends, are you planning to throw me in the river?" she asked innocently, swiveling her head around to him.

He leaned closer, whispering in her ear. "Not unless you have something to hide"

Jessie chewed on her bottom lip, smiling. "Then I guess I'm staying"

He chuckled softly, putting a hand on her leg. "Good. So, why don't we take this back to my place? I'll pay you handsomely"

She was so close to grimacing she had to sip from her glass in order to cover it, pretending it was the alcohol burning her mouth. Jessie scrunched up her face and cleared her throat before turning to wrap her hands behind his neck.

"Just like that, huh? No romance, no wine and dining?" she pouted.

"Escort? Hooker? Doesn't matter, you're both doing the same thing" Gambol said in a boring sarcastic tone.

"I guess you're right but I have a special way of doing things. There's an old saying that the hungrier one is, the better the meal" she told him. Gambol frowned in confusion as he waited for her to explain what that meant. "I'm good at what I do because the longer a man can wait, the better the sex. So, what'd you say, handsome? Think you're up for the challenge" she whispered.

Men always loved a challenge.

Gambol raised his chin and breathed deeply and audibly as he was mulling it over. There's no way he'd turn down a challenge like that, he was too proud and Jessie knew it. His ego wouldn't allow it. "I like what you're selling. Alright sweetheart, I'll humor you" he finally said.

"I'm glad to hear you say that" she smiled widely, taking a pen out of her purse and scribbled a phone number on a napkin. She stood up, lowering her head and very lightly brushed her lips against his, slipping the torn napkin in his hand. Gambol gave her a devilish smile as she pulled away. If he wasn't a criminal, Jessie might've found him attractive.

"Call me" she told him, then gathered her purse, winked, and disappeared into the crowd of people. Once she was outside she pulled out her umbrella and swiped at her lips before walking down the street.

Instead walking straight towards the car where she knew Tommy was waiting, she took a detour. Going this way and that, looking over her shoulder now and again in case she was being followed. Gambol might not be having someone follow her, but Maroni certainly might. He was suspicious of her, she knew it. That look on his face made it obvious, she needed to be careful or else she'd find herself at the bottom of the river with a bullet in her back.

She walked past a prostitute that leaning into a window of a car. As she was passing she heard the man sitting inside mumble nervously "How much?"

Jessie almost came to a complete halt when she remembered there was someone she needed to do before going back home. Her head turned several times at all the little shops and restaurants, it was past midnight so they were all closed. Until her eyes landed on the fast food burger joint adjacent to her. The lights were on so they must've been open twenty-four hours.

Without hesitating she headed towards it. When she entered, the smell of burned meat and fries hit her nose hard. It was mostly empty except for the one person who looked to be high was sitting in the far corner with an untouched meal. She approached the counter and earned a judgmental scowl from the cashier behind the counter. It was only then she became all too aware of what she was wearing. Yeah, she probably looked like she came in from working the street even though she likely had on more clothing than most of the hookers in the city. Still, she probably shouldn't have left her coat in the car.

Jessie ordered a double cheeseburger and some fries, handing the cashier the money and they disappeared into the back to make the food.

The night was eerily quiet. It's been like that ever since the Batman showed up a year ago and put Carmine Falcone out of power, now he was locked up in Arkham. With Batman cleaning up Gotham the way he was, she might be out of a job soon. She'd either have to move to a new city or find another job. An image of her in a brightly colored apron and paper hat flashed through her mind. She rolled her eyes in amusement. Like hell…she thought.

Jessie waited maybe five minutes until her order was finally ready and left the joint, heading back the way she came once she was sure no one was following her. She eventually made it back to the car, Tommy still sitting in the driver's side with the seat reclined. When she opened the door, Tommy jumped up in a sitting position.

"Damn it, you scared the shit out of me" he exclaimed, fixing the seat. "I was about to go look for you"

"Sorry, had to make sure I wasn't being followed" she replied, setting her purse between her feet. He looked at the bag of food questionably. "Listen, I need a favor" she said.


"And exactly, what business do you have in the Narrows?" Tommy inquired as he slowly drove the car over the bridge until they finally entered the slums of Gotham.

"A work colleague. I need some help for a new assignment" she explained vaguely, massaging her ankles as Tommy drove deeper in. She made a mental note to bring her tennis shoes next time. She didn't mind heels, but walking around in six inch ones for half the night was a torture method on its own. Staring out the windshield, she strapped her heels back on as the road dipped and they were in an open cul-de-sac with homeless folk scattered everywhere.

Several raised their heads to look at the Honda Civic that had entered their area. Some stared curiously while others went back to warming their hands over the fiery garbage bins which happened to be the only source of light in the area. There was litter everywhere, newspapers crumpled all over the pavement, worn sleeping bags thrown against the wall.

She heard Tommy inhale sharply. Maybe he wasn't used to seeing so many homeless people in one place. Not Jessie though, she's seen her fair share of things; runaways, druggies, hookers, muggers…

So much so that their presence didn't faze her as much as they used to.

The people all had some form of dirt on their face and wore layers of dirty clothing. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that a lot of them had some kind of weapon; a knife or maybe a broken beer bottle. That was fine. They had their weapon, she had hers.

"Are you sure your colleague is around here?" Tommy asked skeptically.

Jessie secured her gun against her waist and pulled on her trench coat, hiding the food bag underneath as she tied the sash. "He's always here" she responded and stepped out of the car, her heels clicked annoyingly loud against the uneven pavement as she approached them. The whole place smelled like garbage and urine, making her nostrils flare. Some things she'll never get used to.

A group of them saw her and trotted over, some with their hands cupped out to her.

"I'm looking for Greg" she told them casually.

They almost immediately began to murmur. "Greg? Greg's not here" a man to her right said. Half his face was covered in facial hair, his mouth wasn't even visible.

She turned her head to look at him and narrowed her eyes. "He's always here"

The man shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I'll tell ya if you take off that coat" he said. For a moment she thought he smelled the food from under her jacket, but when she saw his tongue stick out lecherously through all that facial hair she knew that wasn't it.

Before she could snap at him, he took two steps forward and saw he had a belt wrapped around his hand, the metal buckle dangled loosely, her hand immediately landed on her gun. The group closed in and she thought she'd have to fight them off for sure until a familiar voice spoke from behind the crowd.

"Alright that's enough. All of ya, fuck off or I'll have you locked up in Arkham for so long your grandchildren won't live to see the light" a gruff angry voice threatened.

The crowd parted as a short, stout man shuffled up to her. The hairs on his brown and grey beard were pointing in all directions as if he'd been electrocuted. He wore fingerless gloves, a brown hat and holey jacket that both looked like they'd been chewed on by rats. He looked up at her, smiling with all six of his stained teeth. His skin was covered with so much dirt and black marks, Jessie barely recognized him.

"I won't say it again, fuck off!" he snapped.

The crowd gave Jessie a disgusted look but finally dispersed. She took her hand off her gun, looked down and gave him a half-smile. "'Locked up in Arkham'?" she quoted amusingly, "That's some threat, Greg. Can you follow up on it?"

"Eh, for all they know, I can" he waved off sarcastically and gave another wide smile. "Been a long time, Miss. Jessie. Dangerous for you to come down 'ere, especially with some o' those Arkham loonies still runnin' around"

"Well, I got a job I need help with, not gonna wait until morning just because of a couple nutjobs. Besides, I have a temporary partner" she replied sarcastically, jerking her thumb behind her. Jessie looked over her shoulder and was surprised to see Tommy standing outside the car with knit eyebrows and one hand on his gun holster.

Greg chuckled dryly. "What can I do you for?"

"Oh, she can do me for free!" a man shouted not too far from them.

However, they both promptly ignored him. They walked towards Greg's own fire so they could talk more privately. She gestured to Tommy to give her five minutes and wait by the car. The smell around them might've been horrible but the warmth from the fire was nice. As Greg warmed his hands over the fire, Jessie removed the bag of food from her coat. Grease splotches from the burger coated the bag. He took it from her outstretched hand and looked inside, smacking his lips hungrily. She reached into her pocket and took out two rolled up twenties in her palm, holding it up for only him to see.

"I need you to find someone. Rather, two people actually" she told him.

Greg raised an eyebrow. "I can do that. Ya got a picture or somethin'?" he asked

She reached into her other pocket and took out a single piece of paper with a copy of the two photos she was given from her client. "Katie Williams and Dean Broderick, ran away over a year ago. From what I'm told, the guy's an abusive asshole. The girl's parents think she ended up here in Gotham, might've started hooking. Thought the Narrows was a good place to start looking"

Greg took the paper from her hand and turned it around, staring at the picture. "Cute girl. Haven't seen either o' them though, I'll keep an eye out, ask around" he told her and took the forty bucks she handed.

"If you get any information, I'm pay you another fifty. You have my number" she said

"Only problem is findin' a workin' payphone" he laughed gruffly and then frowned curiously before standing on the balls of his feet to meet her eyes. Jessie raised both eyebrows in surprise as he stared intently at her face. "Well how 'bout that? Don't think I've seen a sparkle in your eye since eight months ago. New job?"

Suddenly she remembered the odd chill she felt when she saw Maroni's gun. Thrill.

What she felt was thrill, even if it was for a minute. The thrill and excitement of going undercover and getting away with it was enough to get off on, like an addict. That's why some people cheat on their spouse, for the thrill. It's been a long time since she felt like that. There was a good amount of fear that went into her line of work too, of course. She wasn't a reckless thrill seeker, but she wouldn't deny there something a little fun about her job.

She looked away and chuckled lightly. "Never a dull moment in the criminal underworld" she admitted.

He scratched his scraggly beard. "Well, ain't that excitin'?" he remarked and held up the piece of paper in his hand. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for these two. How soon do ya need information by?" he added.

"As soon as possible" she requested with a thankful nod and turned on her heel back towards the car.

"Hey, uh, Miss. Jessie?" Greg called, making her stop and turn around as he jammed his hands in his pockets. "Best watch yourself with all this criminal underworld business. Heard somethin' 'bout a crazy clown running amok. You be careful, ya hear?"

Of course she's heard the rumors. Whispers about a guy who wears makeup to scare people or maybe he just enjoyed being theatrical, calls himself the Joker. Only thing she knew for sure was that he was wanted for armed robbery and double homicide. Yeah, she's heard of him.

Jessie gave Greg a smile and pulled away the lapel of her coat to show the gun tucked at her hip. "Always am" she assured and walked back to the car.

Tommy didn't ask any questions even though it was obvious he wanted to and drove her back to her apartment. Jessie stared out the window as streetlight flashed by, resting her cheek on her knuckles.

The Joker, huh… she thought curiously.

People said he was a menace, but that he was smart and crazy too. Of course, those were only rumors and rumors tend to be exaggerated. The media didn't give him a lot of attention and she wondered if it was because the police were trying to keep it all under wraps or maybe he wasn't as dangerous as people were saying. The police had more things to worry about than some guy with a clown persona. They take down the Mob and Gotham would be a little safer, less corrupt. The police will catch up with him eventually, he was just one guy.

Then again, so was the Batman and he managed to throw Carmine Falcone out of power.

Jessie furrowed her eyebrows in thought. Should she ask Gordon about it? Maybe he'd know something. With the way people talked about him, maybe he was worth looking into. As she was reaching for cell phone she stopped.

No.

She already had enough on her plate as it was, she didn't need to add more. Besides, Maroni might've had some people in the police force but she trusted Gordon, and that was saying a lot coming from her. If the Joker was as dangerous as they say, Gordon would let her know. Not to mention Commissioner Loeb who would at least inform the public to be on the lookout. The Joker wasn't a mobster, just a low crazy criminal, no better than the ones locked up in Arkham. He wasn't a threat, not a big one at least.

Little did she know just how wrong she was.


Okay so so we got some mention of our favorite clown ;). Side note, cringey fake flirting is over for now xD.