The Joker paced the hallway outside the bathroom. How long could it possibly take one person to get ready? He could easily be dressed and have his make-up applied in ten minutes. She had been in there for half an hour! He was about ready to tear the door open and drag her downstairs. If everything went well, she should be able to start working tomorrow, but she needed to go now!

"Are you almost done?" he called, banging on the door. "I would like to leave sometime before my seventieth birthday!" he yelled sarcastically.

"Just give me one more second," Rachel snapped back. He sighed and went back to his pacing. One second wouldn't kill him.

About ten seconds later, he was ready to explode. She said she would be out nine...ten... eleven seconds ago! Did she not see the importance of this situation? How in the world had she managed to keep her job before this? She must have gotten up at two in the morning to get ready or something! He stopped in front of the door and prepared to hit it again, when it finally opened. His hand fell limply to his side.

He would admit, Rachel Dawes was pretty, a fine tribute to femininity, but he would never go so far as to name her a great beauty. Or at least, he would not have before now. As Rachel stood there, a cool air of confidence surrounding her, he felt something come over him. She looked amazing. Her clothes, for once, flattered her figure and gave her proper womanly curves unlike his old throw-aways. Her red blouse was opened just enough to hit at what lay beneath, but she was still modest and professional. A pencil skirt ended right at her knee and her black stocking clung to well-toned calves at were only accentuated by her heels. No wonder woman wore those torture devices! Her dark brown hair, which was considerably longer than before, was curled in loose ringlets and the top half was pulled back off her face revealing her more sharply defined features. That girlish feel her face had formally held was greatly lessened thanks to stress and slight malnutrition and she appeared even more confident and adult-like. Her entire appearance screamed power and control, something he could appreciate completely. This was a new Rachel Dawes, and one he liked quite a bit.

"I thought we needed to leave?" she teased him as she caught his change in posture. He cleared his throat and straightened up, regaining his dignity. He was not one to be caught off guard by a pretty woman, especially not one of his employees.

"Correction, you need to leave. We can't be seen together. Here is your apartment key. I actually managed to secure a place in your same apartment building, but two floors down. Things should be ready for your arrival. Moe and Larry worked quite hard on it supposedly. There is a cab downstairs that will take you to Gordon so you can get your death certificate revoked." He instructed.

"I thought you told Batman I was alive though? Wouldn't he have told the police about that? I shouldn't have a death certificate," she called his bluff.

"Uh, well, I never actually told him you were alive. I merely hinted at the fact but he didn't get it. Batsy isn't creative enough to understand me. Everyone thinks you're dead," he replied honestly. She just shrugged and allowed him to continue. "You'll definitely need proof of identification unless you want to go through all the nasty DNA work and court case. Here's your old ID and your new 'California' one," he said as he handed her two cards. She recognized her old one, but was shocked to see the new license. Obviously she did not know of his amazing computer skills. "Soooo... is everything satisfactory Mrs. Napier?" he asked with deep bow and a step backwards to allow her access to the rest of the corridor. She giggled, a true, school girl giggle, and her fingers fluttered to the hollow of her throat.

"I'll have to get used to that," she mumbled. "Yes, I believe everything is in order. If I need to fib a few parts of my past, I'll let you know. Uh," she thought suddenly, spinning back to face him as she rounded the corner, "how can I contact you should the need arise?" He sighed and explained a number was programed into her speed dial. That would link her to one of his pre-paid phones.

"Only for emergencies though," he cautioned her.

"Of course! Now, are you going to walk me out or does the hospitality end now?" she teased him. Normally, he would have given her a smart remark, but he wasn't quite ready to leave the company of Miss Dawes just yet.

"I'll walk you to the door, but only because I don't want you spreading any lies about my manners now," he assured her. It was a quick jaunt there and as he finished flinging the door open, she pulled him into a light hug. He managed to catch himself this time as his muscles prepared to tighten, and eased, though awkwardly, into her embrace.

"Thanks Mr. J, I'll see you around," she whispered. He smiled at her sentiment. Most people bid him a good life and hopped towns. This was a pleasant first.

"What, I'm not Ace anymore? You gone country or something?" he teased her. He would admit, in the deepest part of his mind, that he secretly kind of liked her little nickname for him.

"I figured it would be silly to make it all this way just to have you kill me for calling you that," she reasoned with a smile. She let him go, and walked out the door to the awaiting taxi. He sighed and pressed his forehead to the cold metal door. He needed a good break from Miss Rachel Dawes. She was a bad influence on him.

"Golly Gee Boss, that's one fine woman there. No wonder Dent was crazy 'bout her." Joker glanced over at the unnoticed thug with an annoyed expression. People did not need to voice his opinions aloud.

"Moe, shut up!" he bit back lamely. She was a very bad influence.

XXXXXXXXX

Never before had the Gotham Police Station seemed like such an intimidating place before. Now, as Rachel stood on the white stone steps, facing up at the chiseled sign overhead, she felt fear sink into her veins. Not only was she breaking the law and conspiring with a mass murderer, but she was also making her appearance into a world where she was supposedly dead. Nothing here was certain anymore. Peoples reactions, her mission, everything was new to her. There was no longer anything she could count on except herself and even that was vague. Her left finger ran over the gold band on her ring finger, and a sense of confidence gripped her heart once more. There was something she could count on, her Joker. He would be there, causing trouble, perhaps coming to her with new bumps and bruises, and hopefully dropping in just to talk about the oddest things. Somethings wouldn't change now.

With her shoulders squared, and her head held high, Rachel entered the station. She approached the counter where an unaware officer was situated. He glanced up when he heard the click of her heals, but there was no recognition there. She was relieved that she would perhaps be able to walk down the street without everyone gaping at her. Had it been enough time for the city to have forgotten her face?

"Excuse me, is Commissioner Gordon in?" she asked briskly, going for a professional, but warm feel to her voice.

"Yeah," he answered abruptly. Rachel eyed him for a minute, waiting for him to say something else. It became apparent that he was not going to inquire as to her reason for asking, so she took a more 'well-to-do' stance and gave him a more pointed look.

"May I speak to him?" she questioned perhaps more sharply than was necessary.

"Do you have an appointment?" Did the commissioner make appointments? Well of course not she didn't have one especially if that was a new concept to her.

"No, but it is of the utmost importance," she assured him. The officer sucked on his front teeth in annoyance at having to do something, but picked up the phone and dialed an extension. He was truly a poor credit to his profession and Rachel felt her heart go out to Gordon if he was being forced to hire slobs like this.

"There's a woman here to speak with you Commisioner. Are you available?" the lazy man asked with a more polished tone. At least he had enough brain cells to show respect to his superiors. "One second Sir," he said after a moment's silence.

"What's your name?" he asked her as if it was the most serious of inconveniences.

"Rachel D..." she nearly slipped up, a bad sign this early in the game, but at least she had caught herself. "My name is Rachel Napier," she answered him. Then again, if she wanted to assure her chance to speak with Gordon, she needed to be someone of interest. "He knows me as Rachel Dawes though."

"A Mrs. Napier... says you know her as Rachel Daw... RACHEL DAWES?" the officer yelled into the mouthpiece as everything finally clicked. Apparently Gordon was shocked to as there were shouts assaulting her ears that were not coming from the officer. Rachel was practically dragged into Gordon's office in record time. The desk officer gave his hasty 'welcome back' and left the office probably to tell his friends. The door slammed shut and she was left alone with Gordon.

Commissioner Gordon was not the most composed man Rachel knew of. He did have a tendency to give into his emotions, but thankfully, he was managing to keep his jaw off the floor right now. She regained her composure from the shock of the whirlwind the trip up had been and crossed the few feet between her and the door. She sat down, crossed her legs- a security thing few people knew about- and fixed the commissioner with a supposedly apologetic but pleased look. Right now, she was torn between the joy of seeing a familiar, non-painted or damaged face and the new skepticism that she viewed the world with now. Was Gordon really the good guy she knew, or was he something different?

"Hi Gordon," she broke the tense silence as she normally greeted him. She felt that confidence slip away and be replaced with a shy awkwardness. Gordon opened his mouth once, closed it, took a deep breath, and opened it again, this time with words following.

"M-miss Dawes," he chocked out. "I... I mean... uh, Mrs... I'm sorry, what-"

"Napier, I was married last month, but don't worry about it. You can call me Rachel, Gordon," she assured him. He nodded distractedly as he mumbled the information back to himself.

"Well, Rachel... uhm, where have you been? We all thought you were dead!" he blurted out, causing her to flinch.

"I was in Sacramento. The Joker saved me from the explosion. One night, I managed to escape. I hoped on the first bus out and headed to California to stay with an old college bud to recuperate. I didn't want to put my parents or friends in any danger and I knew you must of had your hands busy and didn't want to trouble anyone. I should have told someone I was alive though," she added to her tale. She was surprised how naturally the lie came to her. Acting and hiding emotions was a second nature now thanks to her profession, but lying was a different story.

"Oh well, in that case, we should probably return your living status. Do you have proper identification or do we need to go through a nasty court proceeding?" he tried to be humorous. She removed the I.D.s from her pocket and showed them to Gordon. "That makes things easy then. So, what brings you back to Gotham?" he asked as he made copies of the cards and typed some stuff into the computer.

"The Joker, he showed up one day and basically told me I could be his lawyer or I could watch Jack die," she lied again. Gordon stopped working and stared at her.

"The Joker asked you to be his lawyer?" he clarified.

"Yes."

"Oh, this will interesting," he growled, clearly not pleased with the situation. She feigned distress and gave a dramatic sigh. His eyes softened and he returned her sigh. "I think you know we cannot have a former captive and victim of a person defend them in court. We'll find a way out of this," he assured her. Not having to fake it this time, she shot her head up and protested.

"No! You can't do that. I'm sorry Gordon, but as unhappy as I am with this situation, I have to go through with this. He'll kill Jack if I don't," she explained. "No jury will ever believe he is innocent. We catch the man, put him on trial and he's in Arkham or prison for life. Then it's over and we can go back to our lives," she tried to sound optimistic, but the prospect of having the Joker locked away for life was difficult to come to terms with.

"You're right," Gordon agreed. "Now, I should be able to bring you back among the living. I would suggest talking to the new D.A, George Arnolds, about your situation. But for now, you should perhaps let your friends here know you're back. Mr. Wayne has been absolutely miserable these past few months," he suggested. Rachel smiled, but was groaning on the inside. This was one meeting she was not looking forward to.

A/N: I was not planning on updating today, but one of my charming reviewers scared me into it. While I love to hear how you like the story and want to read more, recieving several reviews a day telling me to update now is excessive. I do have school and something similar to a life to maintain, so please bare with me. Thanks everyone!! So tell me what you think. I'm rather unsure about Rachel here.