Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with the Batman Franchise. I do own Meredith Jones and worship the Nolan films, though. (Heath! Christian! You guys are so amazing!)

Yeah, yeah, I know, ANOTHER OC fic in the Batman Begins/Dark Knight category, but I couldn't help myself. I never can. Rated T for darkness in the future, some language and possible sexual-in-content stuff. Final pairings and so are aren't concrete yet. (Also, just as a note: At this point, although the story is Post TDK, Meredith doesn't fully know about the Joker. She wasn't in Gotham during the worst attacks. This'll be corrected later, though.)

Enjoy!

"Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, how may I help you? ...Please hold!"

No matter how many times she heard the chipper phone-greeting over the course of the day, the irritatingly chirpy twitter always managed to cause her to twitch, like she was trying to dislodge a fly.

Meredith Jones blew a strand of hair out of her face as she continued to flip listlessly through the stack of papers sitting in front of her. She glanced hopefully at the clock perched on a nearby wall, only to see that clocking-out time was still a depressing forty-five minutes away. Meredith had been in such as rush that morning; she had forgotten not only breakfast, but her routine cup of coffee. Her brain felt like it had shrunk in the wash, or something.

"Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, how-"

Meredith twitched again as the high-pitched voice jolted her out of her reverie. She grit her teeth in an effort not to swear or mutter something savage under her breath.

"Looks like somebody missed out on their usual caffeine hit again."

Meredith glanced up to see a small, curvy blonde woman, who had perched herself on the edge of Meredith's desk. Meredith managed a wan smile.

"How could you tell?" she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

"Just that you look like you'd like to decapitate Chantal every time she answers the phone." replied Carrie, cheerfully. "And the fact you keep blinking extra hard at random intervals like you're trying to convince yourself that, yes, you are awake and supposed to be doing work."

"Okay, okay." Meredith said, finally managing a genuine giggle. "You win. Yeah, Floyd stole the batteries in my alarm clock, so GUESS who had to run to get a taxi to work this morning?"

"You? Run?"

"Thanks, Carrie." Meredith snorted. Carrie's hazel eyes drifted to the huge stack of papers on Meredith's desk.

"Listen, I'll take these off your hands. Go and try and wake yourself up, okay? And can you get me a coffee?"

Meredith didn't bother protesting- Carrie was already halfway across the corridor. Besides, she had a point.

With a weary air, Meredith drifted down the hall until she got to the bathroom, slipping inside as the elevator doors nearby pinged open. Thankfully, it was empty in there.

Meredith turned on the tap and glanced at herself in the mirror, before pulling a face and leaning forwards. Her hair, which until a few weeks ago was Candy Apple Red (according to the box, anyway) was now fading back to her natural colour. Meredith dipped her head forwards, inspecting her dark brown roots. Although she had slept the usual amount last night, she could still detect faint shadows beneath her eyes, which were a deep, dark blue and admittedly still a little bleary due to the absence of her morning caffeine. Meredith also noticed that she had forgotten to rub off yesterday's eyeliner, again.

Sighing, she splashed her face with water and headed back outside, her shoes sinking into the plush carpets next to the elevators.

"Meredith! There you are."

Meredith looked around to see Reese walking towards her, grinning.

"Hey." she greeted him, thinking that this probably had something to do with work.

Reese sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. At twenty-six, Reese Jones was one of the most talked-about executives in Wayne Enterprises, and indeed probably one of the most talked about males, not counting Bruce Wayne himself, obviously. He was also Meredith's older brother, which proved to be both a hindrance as well as a help in her work life. Upon Meredith's return to Gotham, she had mentioned in passing to Reese about work, and next thing she knew, she suddenly had a job at Wayne Enterprises. Nothing really impressive- she basically was just another admin worker. She fetched coffee, filed paperwork and answered phones. That was fine. The problem was, the minute people- namely, girls- found out she was related to the Reese Jones, she was immediately subjected to an Older Brother Pop Quiz.

Meredith then realised with a jolt that Reese was talking.

"- Especially since you've been working here for, how long now?"

"Two weeks." replied Meredith, stifling a yawn. "But Mr. Wayne is a busy guy, Reese; he's hardly got time to meet every single person who works here. I thought you were doing some kind of company stuff with him. Didn't you say he's always falling asleep at work?"

"Well, yeah." said Reese, with a laugh that showed his white teeth. "But I'm surprised you haven't even seen him yet. He pretty much runs Gotham, after all."

"I know that." replied Meredith, sounding more irritable then she intended, but Reese paid it no attention. "Well, it'll happen sooner or later, I guess."

She kind of shrugged at Reese and turned to go.

"Meredith?"

"What?"

"I think you need to dye your hair again. It's looking a little...faded."

"Get back to work, Reese." answered Meredith, without turning around. She heard him laugh, and then head inside the elevator.

Meredith pushed open the door to her left, just as a tall girl with a cloud of honey-blonde hair passed through. She was holding a phone in one hand and a shiny pink folder in the other one. Meredith couldn't help noticing she had co-ordinated her nail polish, lipstick and shoes in the same shade of hot pink and had to fight not to wrinkle her nose. Andrea glanced coolly at Meredith, eyebrows slightly raised.

"Was that your brother?" inquired Andrea, glancing at the elevator. Meredith didn't like her expression.

"It was." she agreed carefully. "Why?"

"Oh, somebody called for him, is all." Andrea replied, still looking at the elevator and smiling before glancing back at Meredith. "He's such a high-flier, isn't he? It's hard to believe the two of you are related!"

Meredith grunted as Andrea sailed past. Andrea was one of those women that seemed to think that she was doing the world a service by mincing around like everywhere was a catwalk. Admittedly, yes, she was very pretty, but she also knew it and she also knew how to exploit that fact. The fact that Andrea liked to deliver sugar-coated insults to Meredith and some of the other girls only increased her dislike of her. Meredith wondered if anybody else had noticed that this was a recurring theme of a lot of female employees at Wayne Enterprises, with the majority being under thirty and attractive.

Daydreaming about Andrea experiencing an unfortunate fall down the stairs, thanks to her ridiculous heels, Meredith smiled a little to herself as she located the espresso machine. That was definitely one of the pluses for working for a billionaire- he seemed to know how to keep his employees happy and how to make the place look classy. Even the lobby had a fountain.

"Hey, Carrie!" Meredith called as she spotted Carrie chatting to Chantal, who seemed to have found somebody else to take over the phone. "Here's your coff-!"

But just as Meredith extended her arm, coffee held in her hand, the door swung open, and the result was that Meredith got a chestful of still-warm coffee, which did a pretty good job of soaking through her top.

Several things then happened simultaneously.

The first thing that happened was Reese burst out laughing, loudly. The second was Meredith's face turning almost white from shock and she desperately tried to repair the damage to her shirt, which was followed almost immediately by the third thing, which was Bruce Wayne profusely apologising and trying not to blatantly stare as the "Wet T-Shirt Effect" began to kick in. Meredith prayed to burst into flames right there- she had just been given a coffee shower by the Prince of Gotham, with several rather mildly surprised CEO's and her brother, who would probably NEVER let her live it down.

Dear God, please take me now. I'm begging.

Eventually, Carrie unexpectedly took control of the situation and pushed Meredith out of the corridor, practically marching her into the bathroom, leaving behind one thoroughly amused older sibling and a rather apologetic boss.

Meredith examined her collarbone, wondering if the coffee had been actually hot enough to burn her skin. She gratefully took some damp paper towels from Carrie, and began mopping at her chest.

"Great. I just spilt coffee all over myself in front of my new boss. Whee." Meredith intoned, rolling her eyes and tugging at her collar.

"Don't be silly." Carrie said, shaking her head.

"I'm not being silly, I'm serious. He probably thinks I'm retarded."

"It was really more his fault then yours." Carrie told Meredith soothingly. Then, she suddenly giggled, her bubbly personality naturally seeing the funny side of the situation. "But I guess that's one way to make an impression! He'll definitely remember you now!"

"Oh god."

"Come on." Carrie said, choosing to ignore the aforementioned moan and tugging Meredith along. "Just zip your jacket up and nobody will even notice the stain."

"Yeah, and nobody will notice that I have my jacket done up despite it being boiling hot upstairs. Though people might stare when they see the first-degree burn I have all over my cleavage tomorrow."

"Can you get burns from liquid?" pondered Carrie, as the two exited the bathroom. Meredith glanced at her watch.

"Knowing my luck, probably. Anyway, since I've been thoroughly humiliated enough today, I'd better get going. Don't wanna be late."

"Where are you going?" Chantal asked, who had come outside, blinking in puzzlement. Meredith glanced over her shoulder.

"I'm going to work!"

Meredith had been advised (or rather, told) by her brother that she might as well quit her unimpressive job as a waitress after her first day at Wayne Enterprises. And in truth, Meredith had considered it a little before resolutely deciding that she wouldn't. It wasn't just that she had friends at her job, or that she rather liked the idea of earning two salaries, but there was a large part of her that subconsciously was unconvinced that she really deserved or wanted to work at Wayne Enterprises in the first place. She had taken the job because that kind of money was hard to pass up and Reese had gotten it as a special favour, but she didn't want to rely on whatever her brother was doing to keep her employed.

"Meredith! Hurry up and give this to table four!"

...Although sometimes, quitting was REALLY tempting.

Meredith massaged her temples, feeling a headache coming on, but snatched the slice of pumpkin pie from the counter and blundered off, stifling a yawn. She plunked the food inelegantly down in front of the opulently fat man that sat there, but he was so eager to shove yet another morsel down his throat that he paid her no attention whatsoever.

"Somebody ELSE better wipe down that table." Meredith announced sourly to Corrine, a pretty Asian-American girl who was the same age as Meredith. "I've brought food to Mr. Neverending Pit over there at least three freaking times."

"Relax, I think Danae is getting the bill." replied Corrine soothingly. "Only a little longer to go, then we can go home."

Meredith merely grunted in assent. It was late, quite a few of the waiters and waitresses had gone home already, but Meredith had at least another hour to go before home time. She didn't know what was even compelling her to stay at all- it was rare for somebody to want coffee/muffins at 8:00pm in the evening. There really weren't many people left, although Meredith suspected that the fat man made any room he was in look crowded.

"Meredith, go serve table thirteen." one of the chefs barked from the kitchen.

"Why do I have to do it?" she whined, aching for something to wake her up. Or a large bottle of something alcoholic.

"Just go!"

With a dramatic sigh, Meredith rose to her feet and slipped out from the back room, pushing the rubber flaps that dangled over the doorway out of her face. There was a silhouette of a man (she assumed it was a man from his noticeably broad shoulders) leaning against the window, half in shadow thanks to the neon red sign above the windows of the Diner. Meredith paid little attention to this, floating over to the figure and flipping over her tiny notebook.

"Welcome to Joe's." Meredith began vaguely, having repeated this phrase over and over again. "What can I get you?"

The man took a moment to reply, as Meredith hovered next to the table, wishing the dull ache that had bloomed in her head would go away.

"Coffee." decided the customer, after a pause. "And...Hmmm...what do YOU like?"

"Oh, um, well -" Meredith began, and then suddenly stopped.

Scars.

Meredith, who had glanced absently up to answer the customer, found that the glance lasted longer then she had anticipated.

Scars ran in a gruesome smile up both of the man's cheeks, looking particularly raw and pink against his skin, which was a sort of milky-coffee colour. Tendrils of what Meredith could only assume was blondish hair escaped from underneath the black hat he was wearing, though it was hard to tell in the reddish light he was bathed in. Even with the scars, there was something oddly alluring about the man, though the scars, of course, were the first thing you noticed.

The man sitting in front of her watched her with half-lidded, nearly black eyes, as though he was internally gauging her reaction, or simply waiting for her to speak. Meredith felt her face turn hot, and she hoped she hadn't been gawking.

"…Cherry." Meredith found herself saying, before she had even begun to fully register her mouth moving. "You, um, can't go wrong with cherry pie."

"Well, who can ARGUE with that?" replied the scarred man, and he smiled, although the calculating look lingered in his eyes. Meredith began to feel very much like she was being cross-examined.

"I'll be right back…" mumbled Meredith, feeling really quite embarrassed now.

She wondered back to the kitchen, feeling oddly short of breath, flicking on the kettle distractedly. It wasn't every day a customer got her so worked up by merely saying a few well-worded sentences. Most of the time, Meredith felt like she was just kind of drifting along, performing her work as if she were on auto-pilot. After all, it wasn't exactly riveting stuff. Take order, fetch food, take away food. It wasn't exactly rocket science.

But this time, she found herself so flustered that she nearly poured boiling water over herself, and was quite relieved when the strange man accepted his order with no further comment. Meredith retreated back into the back room, watching him for a moment from behind the rubber flaps, before turning away and busying herself with stealing a chocolate muffin from the kitchen without anybody noticing.

She had just finished licking stray chocolate off her fingers, perched on the back legs of her chair when Corrine suddenly appeared out of nowhere, looking rather excited.

"What is it?" Meredith asked, as Corrine looked as though she was absolutely dying to tell her something.

"Meredith, I just went over to the table where that guy you were serving was. He's gone, but he just tipped you, like, twenty bucks!"

"What?" said Meredith, nearly toppling over backwards.

She got up and nearly ran to her booth. Sure enough, like Corinne had said, he was gone, but there was a stash of money sitting on the table. Meredith flipped through it, thinking that her friend must have been wrong- this was for the meal, surely?

But no. Flipping through the cash, Meredith saw that the majority of it was, in fact, for her. After all, coffee and a slice of pie weren't particularly expensive. Meredith glanced around, feeling suddenly as though she was doing something she shouldn't have done. But...well, all she did was do her job. It's not like he just accidentally put a twenty down, was it?

"Well." Meredith said blankly, trying not to sound too pleased with herself, even though her mind already irresistibly flipping through the litany of items she could get with a little extra cash. "Guess that's that, then."

Twenty-five minutes later, Meredith sighed as the cold air seemed to rush towards her as she stepped onto the glimmering pavement outside Joe's Diner. She fumbled through her purse, making sure she had all of her stuff- it wouldn't be wise to suddenly stop halfway home and realise she'd left her keys or something at work. It was hazardous enough as it was, getting back to her apartment at nine in the evening.

As she shifted through her purse, something fluttered to the ground by her feet. Puzzled, she crouched down and picked it up, thinking it was an errant note.

Flipping the thing over, however, Meredith's confusion deepened as she realised what it was- a playing card. Not just any card, but the Joker card.

What the hell? Meredith thought, turning the card over. It really did seem to have just fallen innocently out of her bag. After moment's contemplation, she shrugged and stuffed it into her bag, nestling it next to the twenty.

She then saw the bus moving down the street and swore, setting off at an almost-run, and the card, for the meantime, was forgotten.

"Last stop."

Meredith jerked awake. She blinked, confused. She had staggered onto the bus just in time to catch it, and then promptly flopped down in a seat near the back, resting her head on the window, which was now white with condensation.

"Huh?"

"This is the last stop." the bus driver informed her, indifferent of her bewilderment. "Time to get off the bus, lady."

"But this isn't my stop!" protested Meredith. The bus driver snorted.

"Do I look like I care? What do you want me to do, turn the bus around and go all the way back? It's your choice, honey, either get off the bus or sleep in it."

Meredith's mouth opened and closed soundlessly for a second, and then she snapped it shut and made her way to the doors, being sure to glare at the smug expression of the bus driver her entire way down the aisle.

"Thanks a LOT." she told him as the doors slid shut.

Her only answer as a hiss as the bus pulled away, and she had to jump back to prevent her feet from being soaked. Sighing loudly as the first droplets of thin, melancholy rain speckled across her cheeks and shoulders, Meredith huddled further into her trench coat, and, seeing no other alternative, started walking.

She had no idea where the nearest cab firm was. The streets were surprisingly quiet- Meredith hoped that it would stay that way until she got home, but she wasn't about to put too much faith into that. Her footsteps sounded loud to her, as she skittered over various puddles, her pale face growing pinker in the cold night air. It smelled the way it did just before it was about to rain- wet, feral. Normally she found the scent comforting, but right now she just wished that she hadn't fallen asleep on the damn bus in the first place. To distract herself, Meredith cast her mind around and found herself thinking back to the strange man in the diner, and what on earth she could have possibly done to get him to leave her twenty dollars and, bizarrely, a joker card.

Then, she heard it.

A low whistle, somewhere behind her. Meredith chewed on her lip, making sure to keep walking as though she hadn't heard anything. No doubt it was probably just a run-of-the-mill thug who had nothing better to do then try and intimidate anything that moved, but that wasn't to say it wasn't working. The fact he resembled a bald gorilla in a leather jacket was probably a contributing factor. She carried on walking, but the urge to break into a run was mounting.

"Hey."

Don't run. Meredith reminded herself, even though she could hear more than one set of footsteps now, languidly heading in her direction. Don't run, because they will chase you. And they WILL catch you, because let's face it; you're ridiculously out of shape. That's what you get when you spend most of your time sleeping, spacing out or drinking caffeine-based beverages.That was around the time Meredith noticed that she had been so preoccupied in lamenting her physical health and eating habits, she had walked straight into a dead end. Two more men had joined their ape-like leader as Meredith had blindly walked along. They obviously knew the area well, much better than she did, anyway.

"Fuck." was all Meredith managed to come up with to surmise her situation, when she felt a hand yank roughly at her elbow. Meredith gasped reflexively and spun around, and a harsh voice delivered the command near the vicinity of her ear.

"Hand over all your cash. Now."

Goddamn, the one day I get tipped more than my weekly pay check and it gets fricking stolen! Meredith thought, irrationally, a sort of faint ringing in her ears.

"Hey!"

Meredith jumped. She had forgotten what she was doing.

"Are you fucking stupid or something?" barked one of the thugs, who was skinny with a blonde ponytail.

"Stupid is as stupid does." replied Meredith, without thinking.

Without warning, she felt herself being slammed into the wall behind her, a hand gripping her shoulder as whoever it was pushed. Meredith grunted with the sudden bolt of pain that ran up and down her back, and with the effort of not squealing and/or crying out loud.

"What the fuck did you call me?" shouted the bald guy- or it might have been the third one, Meredith was rapidly losing track, but she tried in vain to defend herself.

"N-no, I didn't mean-!"

Meredith thrashed ungracefully, trying to wriggle out of his grip, and without meaning to, her knee suddenly shot upwards, and catching Thug One right in the groin. He staggered backwards, his hands instinctively clenching at his crotch. It looked so funny that Meredith might have giggled if the situation hadn't been so serious.

"You little bitch!"

Meredith couldn't help it- she squealed as the man shot upright again, and she instinctively raised her arms to cover her face, although she was painfully aware that she knew next to nothing about fighting and only very basic self-defence. She was royally screwed, now that she had accidentally jammed her knee into their leader's balls. Meredith waited for the inevitable burst of pain and probable torrent of abuse.

Nothing happened.

When Meredith opened her eyes a fraction, something streaked past her face so quickly she wasn't sure what had happened at first, causing her reddish hair to whip back from her face. However, when the nearest thug suddenly went flying backwards, Meredith took the opportunity to get her ass out of the way, figuring that whatever was going on, it would be better not to get caught up in the middle of it. Staggering towards the mouth of the alley, she pressed against the wall and looked to her right.

What she saw was a black tower of a man, who was currently holding up the bald guy by his lapels as though he weighed nothing. Even though Meredith hadn't been back in Gotham for all that long, there was still no mistaking that mask, or the body armour that he wore. She had seen enough footage on TV and pictures in the papers. The black caped billowed out from the figure theatrically, making him look, if possible, even bigger and more intimidating then he already did, which was of course the intention. The next second, he slammed the gasping man against the wall and roughly let go. The bald thug slid to the ground, out cold. Then the figure, illuminated only by the murky yellow of the streetlight, turned his attention to her. Meredith found her voice, although it only came out as one whisper.

"It's you."

Batman.

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Thanks for reading!