I'm a whisper in water

Secret for you to hear

You are the one who grows distant

When I beckon you near

Bjork - Bachelorette

A night off. Rarely these days did he get a night off, what, with his little operation being so busy and all. He was never really sure what to do with himself. Harley suggested a romantic evening in together, glancing hopefully at him from across the table, while trying to look sultry. Naturally, that resulted in his decision to leave the hideout alone. And now, wandering the streets on a late, mild, Spring evening, had absolutely no idea how to occupy himself.

Thankfully, it was a weeknight, so not terribly busy on the streets of Gotham. He kept a light scarf wrapped loosely and naturally around his face and neck to cover his scars, and a loose-fitting beanie covering his green hair. A charcoal knit sweater and loose, torn jeans and he fit right in with all those trendy folks around. He came upon a coffee shop, taking advantage of the nice weather and indulging in an open- air type of sing-song to-do, spilling out over the sidewalk. He rolled his eyes and crossed the street as he approached. Blend in, though he may, he didn't have any interest in getting in the middle of them.

As he crossed the street he heard the soft strumming of an acoustic guitar, and the rasp of a feminine voice singing along. Aerosmith, he recognized. Crazy. He narrowed his eyes as though the song title was aimed at him, as that particular jab often was, stopping across the street and leaning on a lamp post, folding his arms and swinging one leg across the other to rest, toe first, on the ground.

He couldn't see much between the distance and the crowd, but he could hear clearly enough, if a little bit muffled. He could see that the woman was slight and blonde. Her hair was long and pin straight. He couldn't see the bottom of it from his vantage point. She had a black hat on, and a black jacket. She wasn't playing the guitar. A man was playing and smiling along at her. As the music played, he was easily transported through time, to a time where there was another pretty girl singing, just for him. She played her own guitar and blushed just a little bit whenever their eyes met.

...

"Okay, but you can't look at me like that," she sighed, face already turning pink.

"Like what, Sugar?" He laughed, excited that she was finally going to play something for him.

"Like..." a pause. "That!" She flailed her arms, getting to her feet to retrieve her guitar. "Like you're expecting something incredible to happen," her voice raised slightly as she disappeared down the hall, to ensure she was still easily heard. "Like I'm not going to forget every other word of whatever I play, knowing you're right here hanging on them all," she came back into the room, looking as nervous as he'd ever seen her, and threw the guitar strap over her as she sat down on the arm of the chair, leaving her slippers on the floor as she brought her feet up onto the seat, taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes. "Okay?"

He smiled lovingly at her. "No promises," was his quiet reply.

Another deep breath. "Okay, so, what should I play? What kind of song?"

He scoffed, feigning offense. "You mean there's something besides love songs when we're together?"

"A love song?" She raised a brow. He nodded. "Something upbeat?"

Another nod. "Now you're talkin', Sugar."

A big sigh. "Okay," she squeezed her eyes shut. "Here goes."

Her fingers strummed easily along the strings. He was immediately impressed by how naturally she was able to play the instrument. Like it extended from her, in the same way limbs extend from a person, and as easily commanded. It took him a moment or two to recognize the song, but eventually he smiled as it came to him just before she started singing.

"Imagine me and you, I do

I think about you day and night, it's only right

To think about the one you love and hold 'em tight

So happy together," her voice was as pretty as ever, if just barely trembling with nerves. She reddened under his gaze as she looked up briefly into his eyes, but seemed to relax a bit thereafter, and continued.

"If I should call you up, invest a dime

And you say you belong to me and ease my mind

Imagine how the world could be, so very fine

So happy together," she beamed at him, meeting the grin that had been plastered on his face since she sat down, and he laughed silently, joining her for the chorus.

"I can't see me lovin' nobody but you

For all my life

When you're with me, baby the skies'll be blue

For all my life," his voice was rocky and unrehearsed, but he carried the tune well enough, and she was glad for his lightheartedness and easily-found joy in the moment. That was her Jack.

"Keep it up, Wild Card!" She cheered, standing up on the chair and swaying her hips as she played. He followed suit, hopping up onto the couch and singing along with her.

"Me and you and you and me

No matter how they toss the dice, it had to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together," his standing on the couch had evolved into full on dancing on the couch, and ultimately, he stumbled onto the floor, clumsily, barely saving himself from falling.

He swaggered over to the chair where she had stopped playing guitar and had brought her hands up to cover her face as she full-on laughed at his antics. He gently took the guitar from her and set it on the couch behind him, both of them still laughing. He wrapped his arms around her, just below her waist, and lifted her down from the chair, placing her carefully on the floor before him. His arms moved up as he stood, but he kept her encircled in them.

"That was awesome, Sugar," he said as their laughter quieted. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Jack," her voice still had laughter in it. "You definitely stole the show. I'll never be able to sing again now," she joked, dramatically.

"Now, don't be ridiculous, Sugar," he chided. "The Beckford would never be the same without hearing Ern say, 'ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the stage, Kaylie -'"

...

"Kamryn Graves!" An announcers voice boomed, clear as a bell, through the sound system across the street, tearing the Joker from his pleasant reverie, into a - now confusing - reality.

Had the voice really just said that? He wondered, crossing the road, cautiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of this Graves woman before she disappeared into the crowd. But the crowd was dispersing, and blondie wasn't in his sight. He scanned the coffee shop's exterior walls when he was in front of it. Looking for a sign, a poster, anything. There was no such luck. Just a piece of paper with "Open Mic Night" scrawled across it in marker.

He approached a straggler having a smoke on the curb, maybe waiting for a ride. He cleared his throat, carefully altering the pitch of his usually recognizable voice. "Excuse me," he began. "Did you catch what that last singers name was?"

The man turned towards him with a warm smile. "Yeah, he said Kamryn Graves, I'm pretty sure, man," he confirmed. "Her first time at an open mic here. Shawn brought her. Good, huh?"

"Mmm," he nodded dismissively. "Thanks," he smacked an open hand on the gentleman's arm gratefully before crossing the road once more and opening up his cell phone, hitting 2 on the speed dial and bringing it impatiently to his ear, pacing the sidewalk as it rang.

"Yeah?" Doc's gruff voice, tired and impatient, but ever at the ready.

"Meet me at the graveyard on Holland. You know the one," he barked. "Bring someone... someone expendable."

"... Boss?" Confusion.

"And shovels," he added. "Twenty minutes. Be there," he snapped the phone shut and starts in the direction of the graveyard. It was shaping up to be an interesting night off.

...

Fourteen minutes. He'd told Doc twenty and he arrived in fourteen. Couldn't buy loyalty like that. Now the two of them, along with a man the Joker didn't recognize, but who looked utterly thrilled to be there with the boss and his right hand man, were standing halfway in the grave of someone who had been dead, at this point, for over three years. About to dig her up.

"What did you say you heard, boss?" Doc was panting as he shovelled, and trying to get things straight in his head.

The Joker groaned, sweating as he helped to dig. "Singing," he sneered. "There was singing, and then there was a name."

"Singing and a name?" Doc paused, stretching backward before picking up his work again. "That's it?"

"It's hard to explain," he growled. "The voice was familiar," he explained. "And the name was Cameron Graves," now the Joker paused his work. "Tell me, ah, Doc," he licked his lips. "Where are we standing?"

Doc scanned the head stones at the family plot. Five of them bore the name "Cameron." Including the one they were about three feet into digging up. And so, they continued to work, silently, until one of their shovels finally connected with something hard.

"There it is," the Joker huffed triumphantly. "C'mon," he started working faster, the other two following suit, until the casket was completely exposed, along with a bit of wiggle room on either side, to allow them to open it. "Crowbar?" He held out his hand and was quickly handed the desired tool.

It wasn't as difficult as he had imagined to break into the casket. The right tools and the right amount of pressure and he was quickly rewarded with the sharp crack of wood splitting open. He waited, looking to Doc, who was standing at the foot of the box with whoever he had brought with him. "You're sure, now," the Joker glared at him. "You're sure there was a body?"

Doc nodded somberly. "All of the intel I have said that the Bat pulled a body out of the warehouse, and that she was ID'd as Kaylie Cameron. The family buried three bodies."

With a hard nod, the Joker heaved the lid of the casket open. No body. No body, no remains, no ashes. Photographs. Hundreds of them. Letters. A couple articles of clothing. Sheet music. Even a couple of teddy bears. Everything inside something that Kaylie would have treasured. But no Kaylie, herself.

He looked back to Doc, who looked stunned. His jaw was practically on the ground. "I don't understand."

"No?" The Jokers voice was high and dangerous. "Well, let me explain it to you. We got played," he threw his arms out to his sides and laughed a deadly laugh. "By the Bat-Man, and the owner of this prime real-estate."

"How?" Doc was genuinely shocked, the Joker could tell it wasn't a ruse.

"What does it matter, 'how?'" The third party finally chipped in. "Let's get the bitch and bring her home," he nodded enthusiastically and puffed his chest out proudly.

The Joker shrugged. "He's got a point," in one fluid motion, the Joker whipped a knife out of the pocket of his jeans and cut through everything of value in the mans neck, letting him fall face first into the casket. The lid fell closed with the force and the Joker hopped easily out of the grave. "Thanks for the tip."

Doc crawled out with a bit more effort, but was soon standing next to the tense, seething, out of costume clown. "What do you wanna do, boss?"

The Joker glanced sideways at Doc. "You heard the man, Doc," he shook his head.

"Let's find her, and bring her home."

..

A/N - Ta-Da! Many of you had hoped she'd have survived, and of course Batman went in after her! She pulled through and I have a hell of a ride in store for anyone who is interested. I hope you all enjoy this, and the rest of the story as it unfolds. Or, stories, rather. Like I said, it's a very ambitious project, and there will actually be 4 more installments. One will be 3-5 chapters, but the other 3 are shaping up to be full length stories. I really hope at least some of you are as excited about this as I am. I love these characters and I hope to take them, as well as some new ones, on a crazy journey. Thanks to all who read, review, fave, and follow. See you soon with Kaylie/Kamryn's story!