Hello readers! I have a quick authors note at the end of the chapter, if you so choose to read it.

Disclaimer: I own, a crap ton of Joker lithographs… But I do not own Batman, or the characters. I know…sad right?

Warnings: This is a dark fic. There will be dark themes and some cussing. If this does not suite you, please find the little red X on the top right corner of your computer screen.

Secret. Adj; faithful or cautious in keeping confidential matters confidential; close-mouthed; reticent

Jeannie spotted him before he had even sat down at the crowded bar. The second she saw him, her heart started to flutter. She barely knew the guy! She shook her head at herself in bewilderment. She had only had two very short conversations with him, and she did most of the talking each time. And yet his entrance prompted her to glance in a nearby bottle at her reflection to check her hair and makeup. He had a dark cloud that hung around him, he was mysterious, he was very serious; it was the complete opposite of what she usually looked for in a man. But there was something about him that was attractive to her, besides the baby face and the slicked back, dirty-blonde hair that made her stomach flip flop.

She ignored the wealthy young male waving a twenty dollar bill in her direction to get her to serve him and went to work on an Arnold Palmer. She had it mixed and poured just in time to turn around and put the beverage in front of Jack as he sat down.

She grinned at him. "Made just for you." She chuckled under her breath when he looked at her in slight surprise, something Jeannie was sure was a rarity, and proceeded to help the impatient man with the twenty dollars.

After making a couple drinks and closing a few tabs, she made her way back to where Jack was seated, but was disappointed to see two twenty dollar bills underneath an empty glass; the only thing that indicated he was ever there.

At 3:30 am, Jeannie waved to Sam, her co-bartender, and ran to the monorail station, thankfully catching the 3:35 train by the skin of her teeth. Like always, she got off at the 16th street station and walked two blocks to Norm's diner, just as she did every night after her shift at the club. And, like every morning, she was greeted by Linda and got a wave of the spatula from Norm.

"Waffles, Linda." She returned the wave to Norm.

"Coming right up, Love." Linda smiled and went to work, helping Norm mix more batter.

Jeannie surveyed the diner, expecting it to be dead. Not many people were hungry at 3:45 in the morning.

…Except for maybe one person, to her surprise…

Jeannie's brows furrowed as her eyes landed on the tall, good looking man who was looking up at her whilst drinking his coffee. He wasn't in the fancy suit he had been in just a few hours ago, but in a pair of jeans and a green hooded sweatshirt.

She moved toward the booth and slid into it without asking permission. She folded her arms over the table and gave him a playful glare. In return she received a bored, borderline annoyed look from him.

"Glad to see you didn't have to stab Tony in the other hand tonight." She smirked at him and full out smiled when his brow shot up. "I'm sure he deserved it." She shrugged. "He's…" She squinted trying to find a word for her boss. "..well, he's a dirtbag." She giggled.

"Agreed." He grunted and put his mug down. "On all counts."

She bit her lip, not sure if she should ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue, but she threw caution to the wind, especially given she had just accused him of stabbing her boss in the hand and hadn't denied it. "So, what is it that you do, Jack? I mean, what requires you to impale dirtbag's hands with scissors?" She rested her chin in her hands, looking at him intently.

He merely gave her a look that said 'what-do-you-think?' and rolled his eyes when she continued to look at him expectantly. He sighed. "Use your imagination."

"Oh I am." She grinned. "I didn't expect you to answer anyway." She looked him in the eye, making Jack a little uncomfortable. The girl was grating his nerves.

"Why are you so serious all the time?"

Jack bit back a sarcastic laugh. If she only knew… "What makes you think I'm always serious? I've barely conversed with you."

She shrugged. "Because every time I've talked with you, you've always grumpy or serious."

"Well, maybe because I find you annoying," he shot back.

Jeannie laughed. "If you thought I was that annoying then why tip me forty dollars for one drink…and more than once? No. I think it's a defense mechanism." She nodded her head, as if convincing herself of something. "Yup, that's what it is, and being a girl that likes a challenge, I'm going to break through your oh-so-serious shell and make you smile a genuine smile…hell, maybe I'll reach for the stars and get real ambitious and make you laugh."

It was Jack's turn to glare at her. "First off, what makes you think I have a serious shell? How do you know that I'm not made of solid, impenetrable seriousness? Secondly, two can play at that game, Jean-nie." He mocked, toying with her name. "If you want to crack through my seriousness, then I get to shatter your happy shell." He grinned at her, ear to ear, showing off his perfectly straight teeth, the one that he gave his victims before he made their lives a living hell.

She wasn't expecting that response.

"Well, Jack. May the best man win." She extended her arm and was surprised that Jack took it in his and shook it.

"Oh I plan on it." He replied darkly and slid out of the booth. "Until next time, Jean-nie."

She watched him as he sauntered out of the diner and disappear into the night, and at that moment, she knew she was playing a dangerous game.

"Here hon'" Linda said, putting a mug on the table top and filling it up with fresh coffee.

"Thanks." Jeannie said, shaking her head, still staring through the large glass windows, where she watched Jack make his way down the barely lit streets of the Narrows. "Hey Linda? How long has Jack been coming to the diner?"

Linda put the pot of coffee down on the table top and grabbed the money the man in question had left for her, giving her a thoughtful look. "Hmm. Longer than you."

Jeannie scrunched her brows together and did some quick math. She had been working at the Bar for about a year now, and that's when she started coming to Norm's.

As if reading her mind, Linda smiled. "He usually doesn't come in until right before my shift ends at about eleven in the morning or so."

"Huh." She nodded in thought and grabbed for the tiny half and halfs. "Do you mind telling me what you know about him?"

Linda laughed and gave her a knowing smirk, revealing her yellowed teeth. "Got a little crush, do we, hon?"

Jeannie ignored the woman and rolled her eyes. "Come on, give me the goods!"

The older woman laughed. "Well, he's quiet when he's alone. He's not the most personable person on the planet, but trust me, I've had worse customers."

"That doesn't surprise me. Does he come here with others?"

Linda nodded. "Yes, he comes with one of his friends, I think his name is Sam or something like that. When he does come to the diner with him, Jack seems a little more upbeat. He even smiles at times."

Jeannie dumped four half and half's into her coffee and stirred. "Anything else?"

Linda shook her head. "No, not really. He comes, he eats, he leaves."

She finished stirring her coffee and thanked Linda.

….This was going to be harder than she thought.

She smirked.

But like she said, she liked a challenge.

An hour later, Jeannie left Norm's and headed home, taking the monorail into midtown and then walking to her apartment complex, which sat on the outskirts of the Narrows and Gotham Village. Something she never heard the end of when speaking to her father, who lived in the rich suburbs of Gotham.

It was relatively safe and it was something she could afford. But that wasn't her father's main concern. He was more concerned about somebody finding out that his daughter was living so close to the Narrows and worked as a bartender at a night club. God forbid somebody at the country club find out that she actually worked with the common folk of Gotham. It would reflect badly on him.

Both her mother and father had offered their pool house, which had two bedrooms, a full kitchen, bathroom, walk in closet, and cable and wi-fi, but she knew that if she had accepted it would have been held over her head for life. And there was no way in hell Jeannie would be able to stay sane living in the same vicinity as both her parents….especially her father.

Jeannie was very much the black sheep of the Kerr family.

Griffin Alexander Kerr III, her father, was a third generation stock trader, and he was uptight as the suffix at the end of his name made him out to be. He completely ignored Jeannie unless she did something that interested him, which didn't happened because she never did anything that interested him, unless you counted the things she did that pissed him off.

She remembered as a young girl, she'd purposely get into his brief case and draw all over his documents, knowing she'd get yelled at. But it was sometimes the only interaction she'd get with the man. But it wasn't long before she figured out that her father truly didn't care what she did unless it made him look good.

Jeannie's older brother by three years was the apple of his father's eye, Griffin Alexander Kerr IV, and was a carbon copy of his father. Though a little less uptight, he was as equally in love with money and himself as her father. Jeannie and he got along in short increments. But when they were younger, she remembered being so very jealous of him. He got the father she would never have.

Her mother, Silvia Kerr, was a little more tolerable, but she was a raging alcoholic and wasn't often around. Jeannie remembered her smashed throughout most of her childhood, and even now she spent the time she wasn't passed out throwing cocktail parties or going out shopping with her country club friends, disinterested in making any time for her son or daughter.

And then there was Jeannie. A free spirit, her grandmother would call her. She was outgoing, and had a healthy sense of humor just like her grandmother, who was the only person she really got along with in her family. She wasn't a straight A student like her brother and she refused to join clubs while attending school like her brother, like the debate club her father had expected any young Kerr to join. She outright refused to become another perfect Kerr, earning her father's cold shoulder.

That and nothing interested her, except for the ballet and dance lessons her mother insisted she take when she was a little girl. That developed into something Jeannie loved, and she was quite good at it too. In fact, her talent got her a full ride to Juilliard. But it didn't last long. Not six months in and she twisted her knee, making her useless, causing her to be sent home. Jeannie was horribly disappointed. She had really looked forward to getting the hell out of Gotham and away from her family.

When she returned home, her father griped about it constantly. How dare she injure herself and make it so he couldn't brag about his daughter to his uptight, rich friends?

While she was on the mend at home, she was subjected to all the traffic in and out from her mother's cocktail parties. And one fateful night, she met a guy just a couple of years older than she. His name was Ryan Samson and he was handsome and charming, and to both her mother and father's utter and complete joy, he came from money. And, as much as Jeannie tried to ignore his advances, he quickly swept her off her feet.

And things were good…for a while. Her father was happy that she wasn't causing him embarrassment and her mother was hopeful that they'd get married, even though Jeannie was only 19 at the time.

But as their relationship progressed, Ryan's demeanor changed. At first it wasn't anything Jeannie really took to heart. Like how he always wanted her hair a certain way, or dressed in a certain fashion. And if she spoke out of line, she'd get reprimanded by him. In public, if she were to crack a joke not to Ryan's taste, he'd make her look like a fool.

As soon as she moved into his swanky apartment, their relationship took a turn for the worse…at least for Jeannie. She was forced to quit her job, because, echoing her father's values, it was a disgrace to have a girlfriend working in the service industry. After Juilliard, she had taken a job waiting tables at a swanky restaurant, and she enjoyed it, but being so terribly and utterly in love, she complied, and quit.

And before Jeannie knew it, she found herself in a position she never in her wildest dreams believed she could be in: powerless and beaten down, in more ways than one.

It took a drop of a pin to infuriate Ryan in those days. He got more violent and cocky with every incident, knowing she wouldn't leave him. And him being a closet coke head didn't help Jeannie out, not one bit.

If she didn't have dinner ready by the time he got home she'd get smacked in the face. Didn't lay out his suit for the next day, a punch or two to the kidneys. No toilet paper left in the bathroom, a kick to the abdomen. But the worst thing he would do to her was raping her. She wished he'd beat her rather than rape her, but Ryan knew this, and he used it to his advantage. In the midst of the craziness, they had become engaged. Looking back, Jeannie really didn't know why she said yes. Maybe because if she said no, she knew he'd probably kill her.

She thanked her lucky stars she never got pregnant. She had secretly been taking birth control pills, something Ryan would have lost him mind about. He was constantly talking about getting her pregnant…she knew he wanted to because that would make her running from him that much harder.

A year and a half she lived like this. And she knew she was stronger than the woman Luke had made her. She was a headstrong woman, and he had managed to stomp out her vibrant flame and love for life. But yet, she remained. She remained, not because she was in love. The love had died after the first few punches and the 'I'm sorry' bouquets of roses and jewelry gift boxes. She remained because she felt trapped. She had no job and virtually no support system. All of her close friends had left Gotham for college and her mother and father weren't any help. He did it on purpose; making her completely and utterly dependent on him.

But when she was passing out while he wailed on her face because he thought that she was flirting with his Polo rival at a cocktail party, when all she had done is ask him to hand her a napkin, she finally fled to her mom and dad's.

When she arrived at her parents door step with a swollen shut eye, a split lip –which needed stitches- and a gash on her forehead already forming purple bruises, she wasn't exactly welcome.

Her mother drunkenly cried because she wouldn't be able to be in the annual Christmas card photo shoot due to her face looking like Rocky had a go at it. Her Father wanted to know what she had done to make Ryan lose his temper. He even had the gall to tell her that she just needed to go back and apologize.

Even in her time of need, when all she wanted was to feel safe and be comforted by her parents, she finally realized they couldn't do it for her.

After screaming a few choice words at her mother and father, she left and got herself a cheap motel room in the Narrows, knowing she'd be protected because Ryan would never step foot in the area. But not before hawking her engagement ring, getting a cool $15,000 for it.

The very next day she got the job at the night club, thanks to Tony taking pity on her. And even though she lived close to the Narrows and worked at a night club, she couldn't be happier. It had taken her awhile to find herself again. She wasn't 100% back to normal; those kinds of scars, the mental ones, were hard to get over. She hid behind her cheeriness.

Nobody questioned a happy girl.

That is…until now.

The next day, at Jeannie's normal time of arrival, she wasn't surprised to see Jack sitting at his usual booth with two steaming cups of coffee, one in front of himself, and the other waiting for her.

"Crack the case yet?" He deadpanned as he moved the coffee mug closer to her as she scooted into the booth.

"Not yet, but don't worry. I'll figure you out." She smiled tiredly at him and grabbed for the half and halfs on the table.

Jack let out a dry chuckle and watched as she poured four little creamers into her coffee and stirred. As she did so, he studied her face. He could tell she was tired, and even though she was clearly dragging, she still could smile at him.

That right there told Jack a lot.

"What about you? Figure me out yet, or have you figured out that it's ok for people to be happy?" She took a sip out of her mug and eyed him.

He smirked. "I've got a few theories, but I'm not about to tell them to you so early in the game."

"You do, huh?" Her brow shot up. "Am I really that transparent?"

He merely gave her a smug, knowing smile, which made her grumble under her breath.

"What's wrong, Jean-nie? Mad that I've already got theories and you have zip?" He leaned back,pulled out a deck of cards, and started shuffling them.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Ok. Fine." She leaned forward. "Where are you from?"

"I think we should throw down some rules. What kind of game can be fun without some rules?"

"I wasn't aware this was a game." She took a sip of coffee.

"What else is this?"

Jeannie shrugged. "I don't know… the starts of a friendship…albeit, a weird one." She added under her breath. "Well then, tell me, what are the rules to this game?"

Jack smiled at her and continued to shuffle his cards. "Only two questions a day."

"Two? Only two?" She stuck her lip out and pouted. "You're no fun."

"I know." He deadpanned.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "Ok. Fine. Only two questions. Any other rules?"

He shrugged. "I'll figure it out as we go."

Jeannie sat there and thought about her question. "Well, may as well tell me where you're from."

"Gotham."

"Ok." She tapped her chin. "What's your last name?"

He stopped mid shuffle and looked at her, suspicion shining in his emerald green eyes. He warred with himself for a few more seconds, but decided that it was harmless to tell her his last name. "Napier."

"Sounds fancy." She smiled.

"My turn." He returned her smile, but his was much more mischievous, and continued to shuffle his cards. "How is yours and your fathers relationship?" He watched as her smile faded away and shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"That's a little too personal, don't you think?"

Jack chuckled and paused his shuffling and leaned towards her. "You're the one that started the game. Are you already wanting to quit?"

She glared at him and gripped her coffee mug. Jeannie was many things, but a quitter was definitely not one of them. "Quit?" She said defiantly. "Not at all." She took a sip of her coffee and sat back against the padded backing of the booth and shrugged. "My father and I don't get along. We never have. Especially now."

Jack nodded his head, studying her face as he listened. "And why is that?"

She sighed heavily. "I embarrass him. He doesn't agree with my lifestyle, and I have pretty much refused to live the life he deems correct…among other things." She muttered.

Again, he nodded. Although he wanted her to elaborate, he didn't need for her to and he had reached his two question a day limit. He watched her as she took another sip of coffee. She was agitated with his questions. He patted himself mentally on the back for hitting a nerve right off the bat. But he had a feeling she and her father's relationship wasn't the reason she was hiding behind her sunny, happy go-lucky smile and demeanor. There was something else, and Jack had a feeling it was dark and it haunted her.

"You know, it's going to be hard to make conversation if we can only ask each other two questions a day." Jeannie grumbled.

He ignored her and fanned the cards out in front of him. "Pick a card, any card."

Jeannie looked at him questionably and then down at the cards that he held and picked one. She peeked at it, so not to reveal what she had picked. The three of spades.

"Put it back in the deck." He ordered, and watched as she stuck it back in the deck. He shuffled the deck and then put the neatly stacked cards in front of her. "Cut the deck."

She complied and spilt it, placing half of the deck next to the other half. He smirked up at her, plucked the top card off the split deck and tossed the card on the table top.

It was the three of spades.

She looked at him, clearly impressed. "You've got to teach me how to do that!"

He snatched the card away from her and put it back where it belonged. "A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Full of secrets, aren't we." She muttered.

He let out a sarcastic chuckle. "That's the pot calling the kettle black." He retorted. "We all have secrets, Jean-nie. Some are darker than others. But, I'm sure you already know that." His brow lifted knowingly.

"What makes you think I have secrets, most of all, dark ones?"

Jack shook his head and reached into his pocket where his phone was. It was vibrating every few moments, telling him he was getting a barrage of texts. He read the texts with annoyance. He was needed asap at the docks, which meant he had to stop home and get his gun… "Duty calls, Sugar." He said smoothly as he slid out of the booth and reached for his wallet in his back pocket. "Until tomorrow." He tossed a few bills on the table. "If I were you, I'd start thinking of questions that are worth your time, Nancy Drew." He smiled, showing his teeth and walked out of the diner.

Jeannie stayed for a few more minutes going over what had just happened, especially her questions versus his questions. She asked normal questions. Questions one would ask a person that wanted to get to know the other. Jack forewent the pleasantries and dove right in.

She took his advice and started thinking of questions to ask Jack, seeing as personal questions were acceptable in this little game she had inadvertently started with him.

Jack hurried home. He needed to pick up his gun and then get to the docks as fast as he could. His boss was an impatient man, and he was one person Jack didn't want to keep waiting for long. The last person to do so had a gun unloaded in his face.

After picking up his Glock 17, he got to the docks and found Sammy waiting at the entrance to the abandoned building that was designated for secret meetings between Jack and Sammy's employer, clients or employees, and sometimes a murder or two. Hence the gun pickup. It was the one spot that the cops hadn't figured out yet.

"Hey man." Sammy greeted as he flicked his cigarette away and adjusted his flat cap.

Jack lifted his chin in greeting. "Do you know what this is about?"

Sammy shook his head. "Something about Falcone." He gestured for his friend to follow. "The other guys are here, let's get in there before the Boss gets pissed. The faster we get in, the faster he starts, the faster we get back to our lives. I've got a pissed off wife at home and the longer I'm gone, my chances of sleeping out on the patio goes up."

Jack rolled his eyes. Sammy and his wife always fought. Even when they were kids the two of them fought. It made him wonder why the two of them got married in the first place.

"It doesn't help that she's pregnant. Her fucking mood swings are killer…but she's horny as hell." Sammy laughed and clapped Jack on the back of his shoulder.

Jack grunted in irritation. "You both are dumb as hell. If you're not regretting it now, you will soon." He said, opening the side door to the building and letting his friend in first.

"What? Having kids?" Sammy rolled his eyes. "You say that now. But you'll see. Once you find that special lady that makes that stone solid heart go pitter-pat, you'll probably have five of them."

"Kids are nothing but wild shit-less? hobo's that do nothing but suck the life out of you."

Sammy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Whatever, man." He didn't want to get into this same debate with his friend again.

They entered the main part of the building and saw that they were the last to show up, but thankfully their boss was too busy talking to his right hand man, Casey.

There were only seven other men there, each with their own profession. Jack and Sammy were collectors who sometimes ran personal security for their boss, where some of the others did odd jobs and were the cogs and wheels of the crime ring that included a lot of breaking and entering and hijacking. Jack had been offered a spot, leading a team and hijacking semi trucks filled with high end technology or other things that could be sold on the black market, but he had turned it down. Jack liked what he did, plus, he was waiting to be asked to do a more complicated job, like a bank heist or a high profile kidnapping. That seemed more up his alley.

The two made themselves comfortable, sitting on a couple of crates and waiting for the boss to call their meeting to order. Sammy lit another cigarette, offered one to Jack and handed over his lighter, all the while laughing to himself.

"What's your problem?" Jack snarled, flicking the lighter to life and inhaling as he lit the end of the cigarette.

"I thought you were quitting."

Jack inhaled deeply then exhaled the thick white smoke. "Some friend you are, offering one to me knowing I'd take it."

"Alright boys," The boss clapped his hands. "I'll make this quick. As all of you know, Falcone has been getting more and more ballsy as of late." He flicked the ash off of his cigar. "I need you all to be on the look out for his goons on our turf. I just got word that the prick is buying Tony Caprizio's night club, which makes me suspicious since that Italian doesn't already own any night clubs. But you know what really pisses me off?" The pudgy man's nose flared as he gripped the umbrella that he used as a cane…and occasionally as a weapon. "I was going to buy that club." His thick English brogue got heavier as he spoke, indicating to his men that he was truly angered. "Do you know what that tells me? That tells me that we have a double crossing rat-bastard in our midst."

The room erupted into a quiet rumble as the men started talking amongst themselves, some accusing the other.

"Shut up! The lot of you's!" He roared. "I know for a fact it ain't none of you's in here. It's why you all are here at this shit-ass hour of the day. I need for you all to keep your ear to the ground and find who it is, and as a bonus, whoever finds the rat or rats, I'll give you $10,000 as a thank you. Now! On to the next thing," He flicked his cigar across the room. "The Gotham police department has hired some new recruits, and you all know what that means. Make sure to keep some extra cash on you all at all times, we need to start turning them, and if you catch any flak from any of them you let me know. Now get the hell out of here."

Jack and Sammy stood, both wanting to get the hell out of there. Sammy wanted to get home to his cranky pregnant wife and Jack wanted to go home and think about he and Jeannie's odd friendship.

"Jacky boy, hold on a minute," the boss bellowed, motioning with his pudgy finger for Jack to come over.

"See you later, man." Sammy muttered and hurried out of there, not wanting to get pulled into whatever the Boss wanted with Jack.

"Jacky, I've got a special job for you." He said as he pulled another cigar out of his inner suit pocket and waited for Casey to pull out a lighter. "I need for you to go down to the police station in the next couple of days and visit Officer Hammet, you know Hammet, don't you Jacky?"

Jack nodded and tried hard to keep his disdain for the slimy asshole Oliver Hammit off his face. "Yes, I know him."

"Good. He's got some information for me and I need a man I trust to relay a message. Are you up for the job?"

"Of course."

His boss smiled at him and clapped him on the back. "See you soon, Jacky. Oh, and try not to hurt our boy Hammet. I know the boy can be an ass, but he's useful to me."

Jack nodded again, already not liking the fact that he couldn't lay a hand on Hammet, but he knew that if he did, the boss wouldn't be so happy. And when you had a boss like Oswald Cobblepot, you did everything in your power to keep off of his shit list.

beta'd by: Springandbysummerfall

I'm hoping you Joker fans are liking this. I have plans for our Jacky boy and Jeannie. Some good. Some bad… it's going to be a hoot.

For those who are Dragon Ball Z fans, I am a co-owner of a bi-monthly video podcast, Google+ community and the newly developed website dedicated to the Bulma and Vegeta fandom. We discuss fanfiction and a lot more. It's fun, we have hangouts, hold drabble nights, have on-going challenges and have writers workshops via pod cast. If anybody is interested , go to my profile page, you'll find the links there. =)