Chapter 1: Party Crashers

Harvey Dent could inspire a party, that was for sure. I hadn't seen this large of an event for quite some time, and being one of Gotham's head attorneys, I'd been to some. A tray of delicate flutes passed by, I snatched one. The champagne is bubbly, light, something expensive. Ah, Bruce Wayne and his perfection.

Everyone let out a few gasps when the helicopter landed and he stepped out, his muscular arms wrapped around two beautiful women - Russian models, or something, I'd guess. I'd known Bruce long enough to know that he wasn't really attracted to them in the way he showed off, nor was he the kind of guy who would do that. He was still so attached to Rachel. Ah, poor Rachel.

She was pretty, and Harvey was cute. But something - I still can't figure it out, wasn't fair enough for me to justify it, and to tell Bruce that everything was okay and it would be okay. He loved her too much. And always, I saw these looks between them, that I don't think anybody else saw, but there was definitely something in those looks that said, 'I'm not done. I can't be.' Bruce definitely agreed.

"Michelle - looking lovely tonight."

"I love the dress."

A few compliments whiz by my ears, being replied to with a delicate smile. The blue silk that clung to my body and then fanned out at my calves, was beautiful, even I was guilty of that thought. I sipped my drink casually, looking around, surveyed the faces. Most of them familiar.

I glided across the floor, meeting Bruce head on.

"Michelle Danvers."

A smirk crawls across my lips. "Bruce Wayne."

"How's the party?"

"Its wonderful, as expected. How's your night going?"

"Good… have you seen her yet?"

I sighed, knowing that was coming. "Yes, she's here. You knew she would be."

"Still, its nice to hear. I have to go play a good ex-boyfriend, so I'll see you around."

I smile, give him a slight nod, and stand up on my tiptoes to meet his cheek with a small peck. Despite my reputation, I did like people, I was a socialite - but tonight however, was a different story.

Making my way through the high-class crowds, my eyes locked on the massive glass door, leading out onto the balcony. A good place to relax, collect your thoughts, everything those intelligent people did. Me, included. I had always been a quiet person, spoke when necessary, and made sure my words were meaningful. You wouldn't catch me blabbing off about how my aunt liked potato chips so much that every time I see a bag of 'em I can't help but giggle.

Nope. Not me.

The cold, New York air greeted me, washing over my face like a cool blanket. Below me, the city was busy, alive and unconcerned with the lives of everyone else. But who said they needed to worry? That was our job, the attorneys and the court; Gotham's Finest.

Even through the glass it wasn't hard to hear the shrill screams of suddenly petrified people. And the gunshot - I heard that too. Turning around, I saw people ducking and running to where, I wasn't sure. They weren't going to find cover. Not now at least, not from him. An elderly man shoots off some remark, I can his expression twist and sneer before a pair of gloved hands forcefully grabs his neck, pulling him towards him. The glimmer of a blade, and the wild shout of a mad man.

The Joker.

I shoot down the rest of the champagne and open the doors, just in time to hear Rachel say, "Okay, stop."

Bad move, Rachel, bad move.

"Well, hello beautiful. You must be Harvey's squeeze. And you are beautiful."

I can feel the fright clawing its way up my throat, chunks of fear rising higher and higher as he combs his hair back, swaggering over towards her. Standing behind her was maybe even worse because you knew that he wasn't coming for you, and you were just going to have to witness some gruesome act.

Bruce had disappeared.

My eyes scanned the large, open space but found nothing. I knew where he was, and what he was doing, and where he would soon be. Here.

"Oh, you've got a little fight in yuh'. I like that."

I took one step forward.

"Then you'll love me."

The black, hard metal I collided against was far too familiar for me to ignore, I let out a gasp, looking up into the masked eyes of Bruce Wayne. It was weird knowing a secret, one that only three or four people knew. The gruff, deep voice launched me out of my thoughts. "Go home."

"Oh. Ha-ha. He-he! That wouldn't be fun, now would it? I think, and this is just me," He paused, licking his lips. "that it would be a stupid idea."

Before I could blink, Batman's arm flew up and The Joker went flying, into a white-clothed table, covered in small, delicate lights and flower arrangements. The crowd 'aah'ed' and looked away in fear. The fight was on.

"Aaaah!" He screamed in exasperation and got up. Staggering back and forth for a short second, he finally regained his balance and brushed his shoulders off. My green eyes scrutinized him with such intensity, I gave myself a headache. It wasn't the crimes that made me think, it was his insanity, and how it worked. I didn't care so much that he had it - but how he went about using it. I had watched every video, read every news article a thousand times to make sure I knew everything about this guy, and that was the problem, I didn't.

He was too erratic, nobody could follow him long enough to stop him. Of course, that was the reason he was so dangerous. In my sick, twisted way, I felt the butterflies creeping up, overcoming the nausea. It was like meeting a movie star, or a hero for the first time in your life. With him standing only feet away from me, I saw the chance of a lifetime.

"He's right."

The crowd gasped at my pipsqueak voice suddenly coming through the crowds. Heads turned, and The Joker leaned to the side, peering over Batman's broad, armored shoulder. A wicked smile twisted his scarred mouth, and he took one staggering step towards me. Batman didn't like that, and The Joker was again airborne, flying through the center of the room like a rag doll. Batman lunged at his opponent and missed, distracted by one of The Joker's henchmen, coming at him with a very large gun. People screamed, scattered like mice. I was about to open my mouth again when a soft, clothed arm came from behind, wrapping around my shoulders and pinning me back.

"You see, ladies and gentlemen, she agrees with me. It wouldn't be fun, would it? Because to have a party, you need people."

I snapped my eyes shut as the blade of his small knife slipped in between my lips, pulling backward at the creases. It wasn't enough to cut the skin, but I could already identify the metallic, bitter taste. He licked his lips behind me, a quick, slither of sound. And then, his gloved fingers brushed the hair away from the side of my head, allowing his voice to creep in my ear, sending chills up my spine.

But not in the way I would have imagined. To say that I wasn't scared, would have been a lie. A very big one and considering I tried to stay away from lies, I willingly admitted to being scared out of my wits. But something, no matter how deep it was, made my stomach churn with delight. He was there, the criminal I had dedicated many nights to, holding me, threatening me with his dangerous mind. I had him.

"Tell me your name."

"Michelle Danvers." I replied obediently. It didn't take much for the fright to come through in my voice, but I was playing it up a little - squirming pointlessly under his grip, my hands finding his forearms and tugging gently. Make it look like I was struggling. Nobody was watching us now though - their attention was too firmly planted on Batman fighting off the henchmen like flies to care about me or The Joker, though he was the main threat.

"I like that name. I have one question: do you know the Batman personally?"

I shivered and stiffened, shaking my head slightly. Batman threw off the last masked guy and charged towards us, only to have The Joker pull back on the blade more. I winced and whimpered. It really did hurt that time.

"Ah-ah-ah. Let's not do anything stupid."

Batman, along with everyone else who didn't want to get sliced up by a madman or being responsible for my death froze and watched. After a minute or so of complete silence, The Joker licked his lips again and turned his attention back to me. He walked calmly out in front of me, holding my neck underneath my chin forcefully. I looked down, casting my eyes to the floor.

"Look at me."

I didn't.

"Look at me!" He roared, literally sounding like someone had just placed a megaphone in front of his lacerated mouth. He jerked my chin up, forcing me to stare into his makeup-smeared eyes. They were wild, curious underneath all that black makeup, and for a moment, I was unable to look away, or concentrate on anything but him. The butterflies returned, captivating my mind again with thoughts of his madness and how amazing it would be to unravel it all.

"I like you. You don't seem like everyone else here. I think," He paused, leaning in so close I could hear his unsteady breathing, and smiled. "that, we could get along. Except, I want to know one little question. Something tiny."

I waited, staring him in the eyes.

"I want to know, if you know Harvey Dent or his… whereabouts. I need to talk to him."

My brain screamed Wrong person, Joker. But instead, I shook my head and looked around, playing up the part of confusion, scanning the crowds. I saw many people, but Harvey wasn't one of them. Panic bubbled up my throat, and instantly disappeared. Bruce had probably taken him, and made sure he was safe; knowing Rachel would never forgive him if he didn't.

I shook my head again, and jerked my body against his forearm, pulling harder than I thought possible. He tightened his grip and chuckled, when Rachel jerked forward, slamming into the Joker and pushing him off me. Ah, what a friend. I went skidding across the waxed tile floor, my satin dress sliding along it like butter. Luckily, I stopped before I could crash into one of the tables, and have a tray of champagne-filled flutes come crashing down around me. I would have laughed if the situation wasn't so damn serious.

Several things happened at once, and my head darted back and forth, trying to capture everything. The Joker spun around and grasped Rachel, rushing over to the open window. Bruce snarled and debated charging him, but knew that would end badly for his 'squeeze' as the Joker had called her. So, taking one step, he snarled, "Drop her."

Even I did a double-take.

"Poor choice of words."

And then his hand unfurled, letting Rachel's body drop through the air, sliding along the glass building, her shrill screams drifting up into the room. People scattered as Batman lurched forward and dove out the window. People now thought that this was their chance to escape, me included.

For a split second, I debated which way would be the best way, and the quickest route of departure. I decided that cutting across the room and go the way the Joker had come in would be my best bet considering that all his henchmen had already come in. Unless he had some out there waiting for scared civilians to come running out. My legs didn't seem to move fast enough as I raced forward, heels clicking loudly, though the sound was drained out by every other pair of rapidly moving shoes in the place.

"Let's play a game, shall we?! Lights!"

Gun fires echoed all around, vibrating the floors and the massive glass windows. And then, everything went dark. Every foot step stopped, and I was pretty sure I heard the muffled groans of people falling over each other.

"Eeney, meeney, miney…"

I could hear the Joker's voice, tinted with sheer amusement as he went over the old nursery rhyme, though for what purpose, I really couldn't tell you. I froze, desperately trying to blend in with the rest of the darkened room.

"MO!"

His voice made me jump, but the blood-curdling scream that slowly faded afterwards, was much worse. He had pushed someone out of the window. My all too vivid mind could imagine the woman's frail body slipping down the side of the slanted building, her fingers clawing the glass in vain.

I reach my fingers behind me, to find that I unfortunately hadn't run far in my rushed exodus - the cool glass pressed against my fingertips. I knew, he'd truncate all the people by the windows first, and come up with something else for those farther away.

"Catch a tiger… by its toe." I heard two sighs of relief, much closer to me than I had really wanted to believe.

"If he hollers…" A shaky intake of breath from a man directly beside me had my heart pumping violently. This was it, my death was only seconds away, all relying on the second verse of a nursery rhyme. At least, I would die at the hands of the one I study. The interest of my life.

The smooth fabric of his glove glided over my face, my neck, my shoulders… I wasn't he what he was doing. The gap in between his words though, was much longer and that was a very, very good thing. Postpone my death a little while longer, why don't you, Joker?

And then it stopped. "Let him go!" A hissing giggle echoed slithered to the space right beside me, tickling my ear. Another keening scream interrupted his laughter, and I heard the squeaking sound of sweaty palms sliding against glass, and then only his laughter again.

It took my mind a good five minutes to process what had happened - what he had just done. Without making it blatantly obvious, The Joker had skipped over me and someone else had irrevocably taken my death. They hadn't had a choice, though he did. The nursery rhyme was going smoothly, and then gaped as he skipped over me. Saved my life. Good lord.

"Everybody run!"

I'm not sure who it was that screamed, but everyone listened to him. Below my feet, a thrumming, buzzing noise started, slowly becoming more and more incipient until a back-up pair of lights flicked on. They were dimmer than the first, but gave enough light on the area to assist us in our fleeing.

I took one step, my leg muscles tensing with anxiousness and -

"Ah-ah-ah. You're coming with me." I felt his arm slither around my waist. Out of instinct, I tried to get away, struggling violently against his arms. He groaned in exasperation and spun me around to look at me. "We can do this the hard way or the easy way."

"Oh, and the hard way would be?"

"You struggle, I have to knock you out and then take you."

I felt my stomach tighten. Showing up my attorney courage, I narrowed my eyes and jerked my knee up, coming in contact with the fabric between his legs. I heard a pained laugh, but didn't see it - I took off running. I didn't even know why I was running, I didn't want to. I should, but I didn't. Abysmally, I knew that the thought of letting my body go completely limp and allowing him to take me wherever he spoke about… was highly appealing.

Instead, going completely off the logical-damsel-in-distress part of my brain, I picked up my dress and ran, skittering across the waxed floor. Behind me, I heard him grunting - and made the mistake of turning around to look. He was just standing there, hands behind his back, innocent as can be. He wasn't chasing me, or even trying to. Maybe he had --

"Not so fast, huh?"

My chest came colliding with another muscular surface, looking up. Rubber clown mask, the expression innocent, questioning. The clothes were normal, shabby coats and pants, and I instantly recognized this as one of the henchmen, the many partners in crime. I wondered how many guys the Joker went through in a week, considering he was so ruthless and the most recent bank robbery had claims of having several of this masked marauders dead, littering the floors.

In one second, the guy raised his gun, and thumped it against my chest, causing me to fall backwards, and hit my head. The tile was cool underneath my hair. I shivered. There was already a dull throbbing…

"Did you have to hit her… so… hard? She's gonna' bleed all over that pretty dressa' hers."

I opened my eyes, but my vision was blurry, like a foggy windshield. I could pick up a dark purple coat, and green… and the white face, blackened eyes and bright red lips turning up into a twisted smile.

I did not resurface.