When Rachel woke the next morning, she did not remember even falling asleep on the couch. She assumed she had gotten up, turned the movie off, and crawled into bed while half-asleep. Humming the main theme from the movie, she fixed herself a bowl of cereal and sat down to watch TV. Apparently, there was another violent Joker killing that night. Two Mob members, one mutilated in the face and the other shot, were the victims. Rachel groaned; more reports for her to sift through tomorrow.

I wonder if my Secret Admirer has replied, she thought. Curious, she went to go check the mail and, oddly enough, found no red envelope. She scanned the rest of her mail for the reply she expected, but it just wasn't there. The D.A. pouted, trudging back to her apartment in a gloom.

Rachel thought about their encounter last night again. His bowing shadow replayed over and over in her mind. Compared to the Phantom, all he needed to do was sing and he'd be an exact clone minus the cape. Her wandering mind thought of the scene where Christine takes off the Phantom's mask and he says she will never be free of him because she has seen his deformed face. If Rachel were to see her secret admirer's face, would he haunt her forever?

A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts; there was nothing there but a vase of a lovely assortment of flowers. She smiled, noticing the familiar red envelope next to it. Gingerly picking up both, she set the flowers in the middle of the counter and proceeded to open the envelope.

Dear Miss Dawes,

I hope you are not allergic to any of the flowers. And as for your list of possible people I could be, I can assure that I am not any of them, especially not a woman. Before you ask, yes, that was me last night out on the street. Enjoy the flowers, and try not to throw them away this time. They're harmless, I swear.

Your Secret Admirer

P.S. Don't leave your windows open at night.

She stared at the P.S. at the end. So what she thought was merely a hallucination had actually happened? He'd been inside her apartment? Maybe he just climbed up the fire escape and closed it for her, and being carried and tucked into bed was a dream. Yes, that had to be it, she told herself. Gazing absently at the flowers adorning her table she thought of what to say to him next. Then, noticing the red roses in the arrangement, she had an idea. Smirking mischievously, she found a blank piece of paper and wrote furiously. When she was done, she noticed that she'd covered the entire page and smugly put it in the red envelope, making a mental note to drop it in the mailbox before Bruce picked her up tonight.

"Why would I want your drugs?" The Joker asked with a raised eyebrow at the man masked in a cloth bag in front of him.

"My hallucinogen creates the victim's worst fears—"

"I know what it does, but what would I need them for?" The clown interrupted.

"To create panic and fear amongst the rest of the Mob and rise to the top, obviously."

The Joker laughed hysterically, "I thought I was funny, but you, Scarecrow, are hilarious."

When the Scarecrow said nothing, he laughed even more.

"Oh, you were serious? Here, let me show you what I think about being serious," the Joker motioned to his men and the grabbed Scarecrow by the arms before he could defend himself. The ever-smiling man walked around the table and ripped off the mask while giggling. Jonathan Crane glared at him, unafraid of the knife materialized in his face.

"Do you want to know how I got these scars?" Crane shook his head slightly, but the Joker gripped his chin and made him nod. "See, I was at the dentist one day. I knew for a fact that my dentist was crazy, but nobody believed me. He tells me to smile so he can see my 'pearly whites.' I say no. Well, he doesn't like that. Not. At. All." Crane winced as the Joker's foul breath and yellow teeth came dramatically closer.

"He grabs two of the little pointy things they scrape your teeth with, and he says to me: so you don't know how? Here, I'll teach you! He sticks them in my mouth and yanks them across my face, making these," gesturing at the scars. "Now I'm smiling all the time!" the Joker said with a laugh, noticing Crane's shaking.

"You see? I don't need drugs to be scary, I'm pretty confident in my, uh…abilities," he trailed off into mad laughter.

"Then use them to get Rachel Dawes to quit her job," Crane demanded.

"That cute assistant D.A.?" The Joker asked innocently with a trademark giggle.

"I happen to know that she's working by herself to figure you out."

"Hmm, I'm a love interest? Interesting," the Joker giggled even more.

Crane scoffed, resulting in having the knife dug into his neck even harder.

"You like experiments, right doc?"

"Yes, why?"

"How about we play a little game, hm? I'll be the doctor and you the patient. Now, I'm going to carve you up with pretty designs and see how long you live."

"Wait! I need your help!" Crane cried desperately.

The Joker sighed, disappointed. "What do you want?"

"Help me kill Rachel Dawes."

"Why?"

"Because you'd enjoy it; I'll pay you however much you want."

"Tsk, all you people care about is money! I'll do it, but I need something from you besides money."

"What?"

"Recruitments."

"Deal."

"Good, bye-bye now!" The Joker motioned for his men to throw him out. Once he was gone, the Joker looked at the time and ordered one of the clowns to go get Rachel's reply. This will be very interesting, he thought.

If he was to have Rachel all to himself, he could do whatever he wanted with her. He could reveal his identity as her secret admirer and watch her jaw drop in horror and disbelief. He could torture, violate, humiliate, trick, kill, anything! Or…he smirked. He could drive her insane and make her become like him. A beautiful, intelligent female partner would certainly make his life a whole hell of a lot more fun. He giggled excitedly as he imagined them killing and creating chaos together, dancing and laughing insanely surrounded by explosions all around them.

The ecstatic Joker began to dance a waltz with an invisible Rachel, humming a random tune. The clown he'd sent to collect Rachel's letter stopped in the doorway as his boss dipped his imaginary partner. Should he get the Joker's attention? Or risk death by interrupting his good mood? Suddenly, a jet of air flew past his ear and he heard a loud thud in the wood next to him. He glanced in terror at the knife protruding from the door frame, then at the man who threw it.

The Joker had a frown and raised eyebrow upon his painted face. Clearing his throat nervously the clown's follower approached him with the letter outstretched in his hand. His boss snatched it from him and opened it, eagerly reading it.

Dear Secret Admirer,

Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye.

Remember me, once in a while please promise you'll try.

When you find that once again you long to take you heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment spare a thought for me.

We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember stop and think of me.

Think of all the things we've shared and seen, don't think about the way things might have been.

Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned.

Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.

Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never day.

There will never be a day when I won't think of you.

Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade, they have their seasons so do we.

But, please promise me that sometimes you will think of me.

Rachel

The Clown Prince of Chaos frowned. He knew he'd heard that tune somewhere before…ah! Phantom of the Opera! Of course, she'd been watching it that night when he put her in bed. How very clever, Miss Dawes, he thought. If that's the way she wanted to play, then he can surely play along with that mushy lovey-dovey crap. Going through his mind and chewing on the inside of his mouth, the Joker tried to remember the lyrics of that one song where Phantom sings to Christine about the night. Aha!

Dear Miss Dawes,

Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.

Darkness stirs and wakes imagination.

Silently the senses abandon their defenses.

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor.

Grasp it; sense it, tremulous and tender.

Turn your face away from the garish light of day,

Turn your thoughts away from the cold, unfeeling light

And listen to the music of the night.

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams,

Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before.

Close your eyes and feel your spirit start to soar

And you'll live as you've never lived before.

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you.

Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you.

Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind

In this darkness that you know you cannot fight.

The darkness of the music of the night.

Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world,

Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before.

Let your soul take you where you long to be.

Only then can you belong to me.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication.

Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation.

Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in

To the power of the music that I write,

The power of the music of the night.

Your Secret Admirer

Now that was some impressive memory right there. The song was perfect, too, for this point in their "relationship." He knew she was clever enough to take the lyrics literally, asking her to trust and descend into his darkness. If she agreed, he would begin her transformation into his counterpart. Should she disagree and attempt to cut him off, he would kill her without hesitation. The only reason he was keeping her alive now is because she was entertaining and would probably be useful in the future.

He sent the letter with a follower and continued to imagine Rachel as an agent of chaos like himself. She'd probably decline the proposition of theatrics, but then again she might change her mind. If he could harness that type of authority in Gotham, he could very easily infiltrate and buy out followers. Suddenly, the Joker was very appreciative of his clever mind for picking Rachel Dawes of all people. The only reason he'd even picked her was because she had been doing a little too much research on him, possibly becoming a nuisance in his grand future plans. That's when he came up with the idea to distract her.

Rachel Dawes didn't seem like the type to fall for a secret admirer, let alone exchange witty banter with one during this point of time in Gotham. She didn't even take the letter for fingerprints! Not that there were any, of course, he'd made sure of that. Then again, idealist district attorney or not, all women were the same. When they get unexpected attention in a mysterious form, they can't help but be enthralled with curiosity. Woman's curiosity has always been theirs and man's demise. For instance, Pandora and Eve are primary examples; they can't help but want something they cannot or shouldn't have because they are curious about the reason why it's forbidden. Rachel, for instance, shouldn't have a secret admirer that just happens to know her daily schedule, yet she does anyway.

The Joker licked his cracked lips, relishing the metallic drops of blood that had surfaced there. He thought back to the time when Batman had personally given Rachel everything she needed to charge Falcone and his men. The caped crusader could just as easily have given it all to the current D.A. at the time, but instead chose the assistant.

Maybe…maybe the Batman and Rachel know each other. He thought back to watching the scene at Arkham: Batman had specifically saved Rachel and made it a secret between him and Lieutenant Gordon. Oh, this is too fortunate! His two specific targets are in league with each other! Ah, don't jump to conclusions, he told himself. He had to test his theory first, and Crane's plan was the perfect opportunity.