My feet dragged along the bark mulch as I swung slowly, back and forth. I clenched the chains tightly with my head pressed against my fist, keeping a steady rhythm with the soft squeaking of the chains. The wind blew my hair over my face, but I didn't notice.

Light footsteps crunched in the bark mulch, and I saw a pair of converses.

"Dude, those are new," I said.

My best friend chuckled. "You always notice the shoes first. Try to guess what else is new."

I looked up, seeing him hold out his arms like he was expecting me to frisk him down. "You've cut your hair," I said, in surprise.

"Yeah, had it in my face all the time."

"I liked it long."

He shrugged. "It'll grow out, Sara, don't worry. How long do you like it?"

I placed a hand right at the base of my neck. "I like the curl to it too."

"Think I should dye it?" he asked, pushing his short hair back, making a face.

I laughed. "No, it's fine blond." Then, I gave him a sidelook. "I don't know. I see you dying your hair some exotic color like blue or yellow."

"What about purple?"

"Just cause it's my favorite color doesn't mean you have to dye it the same."

He shrugged. "Tell me, Sara, if you had a special ability, what would it be?"

I blinked in surprise. "Why are you asking me? I don't know."

"C'mon, something that fits your personality."

"I can't think of anything, other than wanting to disappear."

"You're not that anti-social, Sara."

"Maybe I am."

"No, you're not," he insisted.

I shrugged. "What do you think I should have, if I had a special ability?"

He thought for a moment and then looked me in the eyes. "What I think is that you're like a shadow."

"Yeah, like a, ah, a shadow." The Joker's voice echoed in my head, and I blinked, the scene changing. I was sitting in the chair again but with my hands cuffed to the table. The Joker watched me from across the table, smirking at me. Pain erupted from my wrists as I struggled to get free.

"Let me go, Joker!" I cried.

"Not-ah until you say the magic words," he giggled, his eyes alit with mocking laughter.

"Please don't do this," I pleaded. He waved a hand, and burning pain flared from my wrists. I cried out in agony, and the Joker laughed hysterically, enjoying my torture.

Then, the dream shifted again, and I found myself in a dark alley. A man stood, blocking my exit, and he was holding a gun, pointed at my chest.

"Please, Jason," I whispered, "Don't do this."

"It's my orders, Jane. It's the end of you." He fired, and I collapsed to the ground, falling in a puddle of blood.

I returned to the beginning, sitting on the swings with my best friend, but I couldn't turn my head to look at him. He swung next to me, speaking quickly.

"Don't be afraid of your ability, Sara," he whispered. "You should learn how to use it."

"No, I can't. It's what he wanted from me all this time. That's why he took me."

"Who took you?"

I didn't respond.

"C'mon, Shadow, who took you and wanted your ability?"

I still didn't respond.

Then, my friend grabbed me, and I looked up into his eyes. But it wasn't him. It was the Joker's face I saw. He smirked at me, placing his switchblade at the corner of my mouth.

"Tell me, Shadow. It's the only way to, ah, to get around the past," he chuckled. His mocking laughter echoed in my ears, even as I woke up.

I didn't open my eyes, simply too frightened to see him. I could still his laughter, except it sounded muffled, despite being close to my ear. I felt movement underneath my head and arm. Frowning, I lifted my head and then blinked in surprise before jerking backwards with a startled cry.

"Uncalled for!" I yelled at the Joker, who chuckled in response, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I had snuggled my face into his shoulder with my arm draped over his chest.

"C'mon, Shadow, do I look like I'm, ah, on your side?" the Joker asked with a wide grin. I looked to find that he was in the exact position and place that he had fallen asleep in.

I huffed at him as I sat up, brushing my hair back with my fingers. "So I moved over to your side," I murmured, irritably. "Doesn't mean anything."

"Sure it does," the Joker chuckled. "You should have seen how you were snuggled against-ah me. Arm over me, leg over mine…" I flinched, my eyes widening. "You even cuddled up against my face," the Joker continued. I glared at him to see the amusement on his face. "It would seem like you're lonely, Shadow."

"Hardly," I murmured under my breath.

"How-ever, I think, ah, the head-butting was unnecessary. It's hard to sleep when you're getting head-butted." I looked away to hide my small smile. It was only a little victory, hurting him while he was sleeping. He deserved it. "Makes me wonder if, ah, if Jason had to deal with it-ah whenever he slept-ah with you."

I stiffened and then whipped around. Without thinking, I asked, "How do you know about Jason?" Then, I snapped my mouth shut, but it was too late.

The Joker rolled onto his side and propped himself up with an elbow. His makeup was fading, smeared into the creases of his face. He licked his scarred lips as he regarded me with curiosity, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Jason," he repeated, waving a hand lazily, "Obviously he's not-ah a figment of your dreaming imagination…unless we take into account of your, ah, problem."

"I don't have a problem," I snapped, irritably, secretly relieved that he had dropped the conversation.

"Oh, but you must," the Joker insisted, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "What do you call the, ah, screaming and crushing of my hand while complaining about-ah your head hurting?"

I blinked and then remembered the awful headache. "I had a really bad headache," I mumbled.

"Hm…I'm a, ah, an expert on prob-lems, Shadow. I've worked with men with all sorts of prob-lems." The Joker leaned forward, bringing his face close to mine. I didn't move away, determined to show him that I wasn't scared of him. "I can tell you have a prob-lem."

"No, I don't," I insisted. "Just because I had one painful headache doesn't mean I have mental disorder! Anyone can get really bad headaches!"

"Not just any-one can get headaches like, ah, yours."

"It was just this. One. Time. I don't have hallucinations and I don't hear voices. I'm not insane!"

The Joker widened his eyes. "I never said you were."

I glared at him. "If you're such an expert on problems, maybe you'd know what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" The Joker's expression had darkened in warning, but I was angry so I didn't notice.

"You're crazy."

I heard the unmistakable click of the Joker's switchblade, and I felt the cold metal against my throat. The Joker pushed me down onto the bed so that he could move to straddle me, trapping me on the bed. His eyes were dark with menace as he looked into mine. "I'm. Not. Crazy." He growled, speaking slowly.

My eyes widened, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

The Joker leaned back, taking away his switchblade, the anger vanishing rapidly from his features. "So, I'm curious," he said, calmly twirling his knife. "Who's Jason?"

As I relaxed from my tension, I threw an icy glare at him. The Joker obviously remembered about the name.

"What. 'Bout. Him?" I asked, crossly.

The Joker didn't look at me as he said, "You said his name in your sleep."

"And what's he to you?"

"I've al-ready said that-ah I was cur-ious, Shadow."

"Curiosity killed the cat," I murmured.

"But satisfaction brought it back," the Joker finished, leaning in and grabbing my face with his gloved hands. "C'mon, if the guy's not important, than it really wouldn't matter if, ah, if you told me about him."

I continued to glare at him. I didn't like how the Joker thought he could get whatever he wanted out of me, particularly when he was only doing it to torment me. The fact that he didn't even seem to care about the information he was seeking made me angrier. "I'm. Not. Gonna. Tell. You."

The Joker let out an aggravated sigh as he slid his knife down my cheek, letting me feel the cold blade. "I al-ways get what-ah I want, Shadow. You might as well give it up and tell me about-ah this Jason guy. I promise not to, ah, to hurt you too much, if you tell me."

"Seems like you'll hurt me either way," I snapped, "There's no way I'm telling you, unless I want to."

The switchblade found its way to the corner of my mouth, teasing to slip in and cut. "Do you enjoy pushing your luck, Shadow?" the Joker asked, in a sinister voice. "Why are you so, ah, willing to be pushed off the edge?"

I half-heartedly chuckled, my tongue sliding out over my lips nervously, but I flinched when my tongue touched the blade waiting close to my mouth.

"I only have one reason to live," I told him, in an impassive tone. "And even that's a lame excuse. I'm pushing my luck because I can. You can go ahead and kill me, torture me, make it slow and painful." The Joker cringed slightly, but I ignored it, focused on finishing my response. "You can have your fun with me and then throw me away like I'm trash. It wouldn't be the death I would have hoped for, but it would bring an end to my eternal misery. So, don't hold yourself back if I'm angering you. Go ahead and do whatever you want. Sure it will cause me to suffer, but in the end, I wouldn't care. I'm sure you could do anything you wanted and not feel guilty about what you've done."

The Joker didn't move for a few moments, simply staring at me. I didn't look away from his dark eyes, watching as his eyes flickered with rapidly altering emotions. His painted face took on a look of confusion before a smile returned to his scarred lips.

"When I first laid eyes on you, Shadow, I thought-ah I had you all figured out," the Joker said slowly as his eyes darted about the room like he was thinking furiously. "Seems like I've taken in a, ah, a rather interesting young woman." I tried to struggle, but he grabbed my wrists, holding them on the bed. He leaned in close, his hot breath mixing with mine. "You've got-ah secrets, secrets that you've hidden inside you for years. Secrets that you've never spoken of to any-one. Secrets that are begging to get out!"

The Joker raised a hand to tenderly brush a stray strand of hair out of my face. "To think that there's such a, ah, a strain on one as young as you, Shadow."

I tried to bite his hand, but he only applied pressure on his switchblade, causing me to wince.

"Be a good girl, Shadow, and I might-ah help you out."

"I don't need your help," I spat at him.

The Joker grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Real-ly? Awful headaches, screaming and withering in pain last night? The nightmares that had you holding onto me like I could protect you? Really, Shadow, you should have seen your re-actions last night-ah. And the teleportation? Wanna explain that?"

I simply lied there, staring back into his intense gaze.

The Joker licked his lips quickly and then pushed himself up, bouncing off the bed. "C'mon, Shadow, get up!" he cried, throwing his arms out as if to make him look more fantastic. "We've got work to do!"

"What work?" I asked, confused.

"Up, Shadow," the Joker repeated, motioning with his hand. I obeyed, not knowing what else to do. He smiled widely, his eyes wandering me up and down.

I glared at him and cleared my throat. "No dirty thoughts, now," I said in a dangerously low tone.

"Just-ah think-ing." The Joker's brow frowned in concentration as he continued to look me over, and I sat back down on the edge of the bed. This action caused him to glare at me, motioning for me to stand again with an irritated jerk of his hand. I lifted my legs and sat Indian-style, folding my arms over my chest, glaring back at him.

It was a battle of will and stubbornness. The Joker cleared his throat, but I still didn't move. He didn't hide his anger, and his grin slowly turned into a frown – which I was surprised that the scars still make him look like he was grinning. "Shadow…"

"Joker," I replied, in the same tone. His mouth twitched, resisting the urge to grin. "Why don't you just let me sit how I want and tell me what work we have to get done?" I suggested.

"Ah…no. That would make it too eas-y!" The Joker sauntered forward and grabbed my arms, yanking me off the bed. I barely managed to get my feet on the ground to avoid falling. The Joker brought me to the middle of the room, having me stand there while he circled me, a look of concentration on his face.

I watched him, my eyes narrowed, not trusting him. But he didn't seem to be trying to be threatening, but I didn't know what he had on his mind.

"What's your favorite color?" the Joker asked, absentmindedly.

I hesitated. "Purple," I whispered.

He stopped on my right side and looked at me. I matched his gaze for a few moments, and then he grinned. "All right," he said, bounding forward and grabbing my arm. "Let's go!"

We didn't get far. The Joker threw open his bedroom door, and nearly rammed into a man standing right outside in the hallway.

"Peter!" the Joker yelled. The man cowered back a few steps, fear flashing across his face. My arm was released, and the Joker cracked the man, knocking him down to the ground. "What-ah are you doing?" he demanded.

"J-Just wondering w-what happened to the g-guys," the man stuttered. The Joker leaped forward, and the man whimpered like a wounded dog.

"You noticed?" the Joker asked. "I'm proud of you, Peter." The man looked up, and his face seemed to glow. He didn't seem to realize that the Joker's tone was sarcastic.

The Joker reached down and grabbed him by the front of his jacket, lifting him up and slamming him against the wall. "What is really your reason for bother-ing me this early?" I glanced at my wristwatch and shook my head. It was nearly ten at night; the Joker and I had slept all day.

Peter didn't know how to answer. He looked past the Joker and saw me. I shifted my weight uneasily, feeling comfortable under his lifeless gaze. He had messy black hair – that looked like he didn't take care of it – and with his mouth turned down in a slight frown, he seemed a rather solemn man. His face was devoid of emotion, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with uneasiness. I was the one to look away first, turning my gaze to the Joker.

Peter returned his gaze to the Joker's, and the fear reappeared in his otherwise lifeless eyes.

However, the Joker's anger – or just his attention – had broken, and he looked between Peter and me, curiously.

"You know each other?" he asked.

"No," I said simply. I don't know why the Joker would have thought that since he knew that I hadn't been in Gotham for long, and most of the time I'd been here was with him. "First sighting is all."

The Joker placed Peter on the ground slowly, and he turned, holding Peter's jacket with one hand. "Then let me intro-duce you. Shadow, Peter. Peter, Shadow." He gestured between us, and I tried to steel my gaze against the dead one as I nodded an acknowledgement. I noticed that standing near the Joker, Peter was shorter than him by half an inch or so, so small of a difference, but I caught it nonetheless.

"I've just thought-ah of some-thing," the Joker said, throwing out his arm, hitting me in the side of the head as he wrapped his arm over my shoulders, pulling me into him. "The night you were at, ah, at the Stacked Deck, you were playing poker, cor-rect-ah?" I nodded, silently. "Who were you playing with?"

"Couple guys," I said.

"Mind telling me their names," the Joker said, leaning his head against mine.

I pushed his head away, angering him. With him angry, I had to give him a name, but two of them I wanted to protect, particularly Ron who helped me escape, despite its failure. "I can't remember all the names, but Kevin happens to be one of them."

"Sounds fa-mil-iar." The Joker threw his gaze at Peter. "Go get-ah Bob, if he managed to, ah, to make his way back here."

Peter nodded and then hurried down the hallway and up the stairs.

"Is Kevin the one who, ah, who hit me on the head?" the Joker asked, his dark eyes boring into mine.

I shook my head. "I didn't play poker with him; he was sitting at the table next to mine so I didn't get his name," I lied smoothly. It didn't matter that I was risking my life by lying to the Joker, since he made it clear to me with the bartender at the Stacked Deck that he hated liars. I was risking my life for a man who had risked his life for me; he deserved payback.

The Joker's face didn't change, and I felt a pang of worry. Did he know that I had lied? Could he read me that easily? Or did he not notice the lie? I had plenty of practice with lying over many years; I knew all the tricks, but the way the Joker continued to stare at me, like he could see right through me, I feared that all the practice would be lost against the Clown Prince of Crime.

A moment passed, though, and the Joker nodded, accepting what I said – or at least I hoped he accepted it. "I think we have some extra time," he said. "Underneath the bed, you'll find a, ah, a bag. Find some clothes and clean yourself up."

I stared at him in confusion, not fully comprehending what he had said, until he glared at me, growled, and then shoved me back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

It dawned on me. Oh...

A duffel bag was hiding underneath the bed, like the Joker had said, and I pulled it out, tossing it onto the mattress and zipping it open. I simply stared at the contents for a few seconds before gasping in surprise. I turned the bag over and dumped all the contents onto the bed with a muffled, excited squeal.

It was my stuff from my motel room. That explained why the Joker had gone back into the motel before blowing it to smithereens. And I thought all he had done was go inside to set up all the explosives. At the same time, he must have snatched all of my possessions. As I pawed through the items, I created a mental list of what was there.

My clothes, some necessities, my iPod, my Toyota car keys – which I wondered if he had taken those from me along with my wallet – the few books I carried with me, and my laptop. The Joker had even managed to locate all my hidden guns, ammo, and, I assumed, my knives, but he probably took those for himself, being a man who liked sharp objects.

After taking a few moments to skip around happily about having all my belongings, I repacked them and kept the necessities and a set of clothing out. I took those into the bathroom, which amazed me because of how it was so clean. The purple shower curtains didn't surprise me, but I couldn't help but smile. Maybe the Joker wasn't so bad. If anything, we had a common favorite color.

I undressed and jumped into the shower, almost feeling the grime wash off me. Using the soap and sponge provided, I scrubbed myself clean, rubbing off all the dirt until my skin was pink. And I washed my hair with care, before simply standing there and letting the hot water wash over me. It helped me to relax, easing the tension in my body.

Finally, I shot off the water and toweled off good. I dressed into simple clothing: jeans with a belt, black shirt with my jacket, and black socks with my Skechers. Since I didn't have a blow dryer, I dried my hair as best I could before brushing it and pulling back into a ponytail. I had one weapon handy at all times now; a wet braid would hurt more, but I'm terrible with them.

When I was done, I left the bathroom to find the Joker sitting impatiently on his bed. It looked like he had gotten bored while I was cleaning myself that he actually made the bed, tucking in the corners and fluffing out the pillows too. I couldn't help but laugh at him for a side of him that I didn't think anyone would have thought existed.

"Yeah, yeah, not-ah what you ex-pec-ted," the Joker said, bouncing off the bed. He bounded over and stopped, eying me. "Black isn't-ah the only colors that would work on you," he muttered. "And the jacket's getting, ah, old."

"Got a problem with what I chose to wear?" I asked, challenge in my voice.

The Joker looked me straight in the eyes and grinned. "The outfit's fine…for now. Is this what you've been, ah, wearing for your other bosses?"

"No, they don't have particular tastes with fashion. And if you think you're going to make me wear something that matches you, think again."

The look on the Joker's face made me worried. It seemed like in his head, he was already formulating something for me. I was too afraid to ask, and I had the feeling that it would be dangerous to tell him he couldn't go ahead and do whatever he wanted.

"At least keep the shoes," I said, quietly.

"Hm? What-ah was that, Shadow?"

"If you're thinking of an outfit for me in the future, work in the shoes," I said, tapping one foot to draw his attention down to my Skechers. "They're my signature shoes." He turned his head to the side, giving me a confusing sidelook – I couldn't tell if he was curious as to why or disgusted by my choice of shoes. "Think of them as your jacket, Mistah J," I said, stressing the name he told me to call him.

The Joker's scarred smile curved into a wide grin. "You won me over," he said, lifting his hands up in surrender. "But everything else, I choose?"

"Depends how bad it looks on me."

"C'mon, you have to, ah, to ad-mit that I have good fashion sense."

My mouth turned up into an easy smile, my first one since the Joker had kidnapped me. "You do have good fashion sense."

The Joker chucked and shook his head violently, causing his light green hair to fall into his face. He pushed it back with a hand and then said, "C'mon, Bob and Peter are wait-ing." He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close, standing there for a moment and sniffing my hair. "But I have to, ah, to compliment you on how nice you smell right-ah now."

"I thought I told you to give me insults," I said, laughing.

The Joker laughed with me as he pulled me along after him, out the door and down to the first floor. We headed for the back again and came out into the alleyway.

Bob had several bruises on his face, and he subconsciously held a hand to his stomach where I must have stabbed him. He wasn't giving me a friendly look as the Joker and I exited the apartment, but he was smart enough not to prove any more of his dislike toward me while his boss was in the vicinity.

Peter stood by the silver car, which turned out to be a nice Volvo. He leaned against the hood, looking up at the apartment windows, like he was searching for someone. I watched him for an extra moment, to see him nod as if he was acknowledging someone, and I twisted to see, but the Joker's arm around my shoulders turned me back.

A third man was waiting for us, and it took me a few seconds to recognize him as Shaun from the Stacked Deck, the guy who always cheated according to Kevin and Ron.

"Shaun!" the Joker exclaimed, excitedly. "Here to, ah, to pay me back?"

Shaun grinned. "No, sorry, Joker. I don't do that right away. Bob called me over. Told me that you was looking for information on some people at the Stacked Deck."

The Joker flashed Bob a threatening glance, and Shaun caught it.

"Don't be mad at him, boss," Shaun said, stepping forward in front of Bob like he was about to protect him. "I got what you need."

"We'll see," the Joker growled, pushing me forward slightly. "Seen her before, Shaun?"

Shaun looked at me, and instant recognition flashed across his face. "I was leaving when she came in. Sure I've seen her. Kevin talks about her whenever you're mentioned in the conversation."

The Joker's head jerked to the side instantly, catching the name. "Kevin?" he repeated, licking his lips slowly, hungrily.

"Yeah, one of my poker pals."

"Got-ah any others?"

My eyes widened. The Joker was close to the jackpot. I stared at Shaun, pleading silently for him to not say anything.

"Oh, sure," Shaun babbled, proudly. "I got Billy, Cory, Ted, and Ron. No guy's got just one poker pal. Right, Joker?" He winked at the Joker playfully, and I wished the Joker would pull out a gun and shoot him dead.

The Joker chuckled softly. "Sure, Shaun," he agreed. "One pal's not-ah enough. Ya know what-ah, Shaun. Since you still owe me money, how 'bout working it off since you're al-ways cheating that money off of your 'pals'?"

Shaun shrugged. "I can do that," he said. The Joker stuck out his hand, and Shaun grasped it; they shook on it, which surprised me that the Joker would struck up a compromise just like that.

The Joker nodded and then pulled away from Shaun. "Everyone in the car," he ordered, motioning to Volvo. "Shadow, here, gets shotgun!"

"What?" I looked at the Joker in surprise. Did he want me next to him?

"You heard-ah me," he said. "You just-ah cleaned up, Shadow. Don't want-ah the boys soil-ing you. Who knows when was the last-ah time they showered?" He grinned at me, and I smiled back, actually finding that he had a similar sense of humor to mine.

The Joker walked me over to the Volvo where Peter had already taken the driver's seat. I assumed Peter was the one who had driven the car beforehand; he seemed very comfortable taking a spot without having to get permission from the Joker. As I climbed into the passenger's seat, the Joker shut the door for me, like a gentleman, and then walked around the Volvo, knocking on Peter's window.

Peter obediently slid it down, and the Joker leaned in, whispering something into his ear. I tried straining to listen, but Shaun were getting into the backseat. Whatever the Joker had told Peter, the man got it.

Then came the interesting part. The Joker was going to sit in the backseat of the car with Bob and Shaun. Since Bob and the Joker's relationship was already tense, I wondered if Bob was going to last the drive.

Bob had one of the window seats with Shaun sitting next to him, like he was a barrier against the Joker. When the Joker saw this, he frowned slightly and then grinned.

"I call the hump!" he exclaimed, excitedly.

I tried so hard not to laugh, but I couldn't help it. Clapping a hand over my mouth, I giggled over what the Joker had claimed. No one wanted the middle of the backseat. Everyone tried to avoid it, and the fact that the Joker had called it; it was funny.

Shaun started laughing too. "All right, boss, you can have it," he chuckled, moving to climb out of the car.

"No-no, Shaun. Just sit-ah in the seat, and I'll climb over you." Shaun shrugged carelessly and turned to the side in the other window seat. The Joker actually giggled with excitement before climbing in over Shaun and settling himself on the hump. I looked back to see that the Joker actually looked pleased with himself about getting what he wanted.

Once the guys were settled, Peter turned on the car and started off. I kept glancing back to see what the Joker was doing to torment Bob for being a bad boy.

The Joker, seeing me watching him, decided to put on a show. He leaned back in his seat and placed his arms over the top of the backseat, stretching them behind Shaun and Bob. To make it even better, the Joker crossed his legs, letting out a high-pitched giggle.

Shaun leaned forward slightly, his expression revealing that he was having second thoughts about his decision to work for the Joker to pay him back, but the Joker didn't seem to mind.

The Joker turned his head, looking over at Bob, who had stiffened, facing forward and trying to keep his face emotionless. I had to face forward to keep myself from laughing out loud. The way the Joker tormented Bob was so simple but so funny. Not only was Bob uncomfortable, it just made it better that Shaun was regretting his new position.

Watching the Joker silently tormenting Bob had me losing track of how long we were in the car. Next thing I know, we've parked on the curb in front of my old motel.

"Okay, Shadow, let's get out-ah!" the Joker exclaimed as he reached over Shaun to get the door handle. I stepped out of the car before the Joker had the backdoor open, but he managed to get out quick enough. "Get your pals," the Joker told Shaun. "We'll meet you there." He grinned and slammed the backdoor shut.

The silver Volvo pulled away, driving in a U-turn before heading down the way it had come.

"Let's go see if, ah, if your car's still there," the Joker said, bounding forward. I followed a step behind him over to the parking lot near the ruins of the motel. I was half-convinced that the police would have found my car and had given it over to some car dealer, assuming that the driver had been killed in the explosion five days ago. There was also the possibility that the police had discovered that it was a stolen car and would have returned it to my last ex.

But, surprise, surprise, my ex's stolen Toyota was still sitting where I had last seen it.

"Oh no," I exclaimed, smacking my head with my hand.

"What?" the Joker asked, half-turning.

"I left my keys back at your place."

"Good thing I had a, ah, a thought." He lifted his gloved hand, jingling my car keys. "And I'm driving."

"It's my car," I protested.

"But do you know how to get-ah to the Stacked Deck from here?" He looked at me expectantly, and I sighed, shaking my head. The Joker smirked, a mocking gleam in his brown eyes. "That's what I thought-ah."

Lordlink13: Whoa! I love writing this story. It's so fun. So many reviewers are saying that they love it and all and it makes me feel so happy. It really makes my day to check my email and find that people have reviewed. And Batman totally made a cool entrance. Hey, Sin, might want to watch what you write. The Joker has already proven to Shadow that he doesn't like being called names. If you want, I can arrange for you to hug Bats while the Joker's not looking. So, I'm quite proud of how I'm writing the Joker's parts. I tried pulling it off in my first version of this story and totally failed. So I'm happy that people believe I'm doing it this time. I'll end this author's note with my thanks and with a promise to continue writing. Remember, reviews are always encouragement, and I'd appreciate it if you left one before you go read other stories. Signing out...