So here's chapter one of said Joker story. Took me a bit because I had to live out a couple days acting like my character in order to understand all her feelings, now that I do, she will be easy to write about. So enjoy chapter one.

The soft pitter patter of rain on the ground seemed to calm down the usually rowdy Friday night in Gotham city. Of course there were still drunk people stumbling out of bars, or vomiting on the sidewalk, but the weather seemed to clear everyone off of the streets, for there weren't many people walking around. In fact, if one were to look out the window as they were driving home they would see only about two or three figures walking in the rain. Perhaps if they looked really well they would be able to see that there was one person standing still, no umbrella, no hood pulled over their head. They would see that the figure was tilting their head towards the rain.

Of course if one did see this they would grumble under their breath and continue driving through the puddles back to where ever they intended to rest that head they carry around all day.

If you were one of the ones walking in the rain perhaps it was because you didn't mind the damp clothes or soaked shoes, or maybe you walked to work and didn't know it was going to rain. Either way you might have walked past someone who seemed content with getting soaked, you might have noticed that there was a girl standing in the rain with her eyes closed.

Of course you would walk right by because no one wants to stand in the rain and get wet, but perhaps you're curious, and you can't resist the urge to look back and see if that girl was still standing there. So you glance back quickly to see that she hasn't moved, and continue on your way grumbling about weirdoes.

The figure standing in the rain stood there for at least a half hour before they moved again. You don't know her, no one knows her name, all you have to do is ask for it, but no one asks, so no one knows it.

Her name is Quilla, and she's homeless. She used to live with her family, but it just so happens that she ran away from home.

Turning to walk down the street she finally pulls her hood over her head and starts to trek back to where she spends her nights, not asleep necessarily, but it is dark there.

On this night as Quilla walk back to her 'house' there seemed to be someone running rather quickly behind her; she could hear his feet pounding on the sidewalk like a bass drum in a band. Stepping to the side quickly she let him pass her, watching as he turned left sharply and disappeared into an alley. Looking up into the rain dully she noticed a different sound amongst the precipitation, it sounded like a flag flapping in the wind, or a cape trailing behind someone.

With a bit of sudden realization she knew who it was, she wondered if he would come out tonight with the rain and all, but of course bats can fly in many types of weather.

Quilla knew the bat for who he really was, Bruce Wayne, she was probably one of very few people who knew this. You're probably wondering how she knows this, how could she possibly know who the Batman really is. Well that's actually quite simple; she met him about three years ago when she was still in high school, when she still lived at home, and when she was on a school trip.

It was a simple trip, her school thought it necessary to take a look around Wayne industries, and perhaps meet Bruce Wayne himself, and they had. Quilla had stuck out the most back then, long hair, sparkling interested eyes, and an odd sort of personality that made her different from all the other kids in the room. Bruce gave her and a teacher a private sort of tour, of course he was just showing off, being his arrogant usual self, what he didn't know was that Quilla was lacking on excitement, her eyes were beginning to dull.

He'd liked her back then, as a student she was sharp, intelligent, and she also knew how to have fun in any situation. Before the school left that day he gave her his card and told her that if she wanted to come back and explore some more she was welcome to, when she asked why he told her it was because she deserved it.

So she visited him once, and that was when she pretty much figured out that he was Batman. It wasn't something that she realized right away, it was more of an inference, something that she wasn't exactly insistent about. It did make sense to her though. Batman obviously had money, and Bruce had a lot of money, that was for sure, and there was no one else she knew of that fit the description of Batman.

It was fun to think about anyway. If Bruce wasn't Batman, and she said name with no response, then oh well, there was nothing lost, nothing gained.

That school trip was three years ago, surely Bruce had forgotten about her.

"No! Please, just leave me alone! I'll never do it again!" A voice yelled pleadingly. It sounded as if the bat had caught him, probably had him in a choke hold or something that the bat liked to do frequently.

"Tell me where the joker is!" The Bat's rough voice called out. So the Joker had gotten out of his imprisonment, that was news to Quilla, though she didn't really care all that much.

Waiting until she heard a smash and then quiet footsteps she waited for the Bat to walk out of the alley, would she say hello today? Should she ask if his name is Bruce?

The black clothed figure of the Bat moved onto the sidewalk for a second, he glanced at Quilla to see that she was staring at him.

It had been a rough night for him. First of all it was raining, which he wouldn't have minded much if he didn't have to go out and try to collect information about a certain someone. Secondly the Joker had broken out, and was now somewhere in the city wreaking havoc of whatever sort he thought would be fun. Last but not least he wasn't getting anywhere, so seeing a girl staring at him was something that he didn't think too much about. Save that there was something about her that seemed familiar in a way, he couldn't quite place it but there was something in the way she looked or walked.

From what he could see she was pretty enough, a skinny girl, perhaps about twenty years old or around that age, a calm demeanor.

There was a faint wonder in the back of his mind that questioned why the girl was out in the rain in the first place, she was soaked, though it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. In fact the sight of himself in front of her didn't do anything to make her jump like it did most people, instead she looked, bored.

Taking small steps she walked past him slowly, she didn't even glance at him; Bruce almost felt a little paralyzed by curiosity.

"Hello," she murmured through the soft sound of the rain before walking off. Her voice was calm and cold, if there was one thing that he would say about how she sounded it would be that she was very sad. Her voice seemed to be coated in what one could only call depression.

With a shake of his head Bruce jumped away from her, he still had to get information about the Joker.

The next day Bruce was in his office when the thought of the girl from the night before popped into his head, there was an inkling of thought in his head that wanted to see her again. He wanted to recognize her again, for now the itch in the back of his mind was spreading, who was she?

"Mr. Wayne?" Someone knocked on his door with a soft sound.

"Yes?" He called out in response.

"There's someone here to see you," the voice called out again. It was probably one of his employees, but he couldn't remember which one, there were too many of them anyway.

"Who is it?" He questioned trying to remember if he had an appointment with anyone today.

"She says her name is Quilla Aberni, and that you said she could come visit you whenever she wanted to," the voice explained hesitantly.

Thinking back to names of people he ought to remember Quilla Aberni seemed to need to be on the list, but for some reason he couldn't remember her. Where was she from that she knew who he was and where he worked?

"Let her in," Bruce called with a bit of a question on his face.

The door opened and let in a mysterious looking girl. She wore baggy pants that looked way too big for her, small shoes that seemed to disappear beneath the long pant legs of her bottoms, short brown hair cut in the style of a pixie haircut, and cool green eyes. She also wore a black tank top that hugged her stomach a little more than it needed to, a backpack that looked a few years old.

"Hi," she muttered dully.

"Please have a seat," Bruce said cheerfully. He didn't know who the girl was yet, but something in the back of his head clicked, this was the girl from the night before, but why was she here?

She sat down in one of the chairs and for a second seemed to marvel at how soft it was, certainly it was unlike any of the chairs she had ever sat in at home or anywhere else, but that was just a passing thought.

"So Ms. Aberni, why are you here?" He asked scooting closer to his desk.

"To see if you remember," she commented shortly. Looking him in the eyes with that blank stare of hers, there was no doubt in his mind that she was the girl from the night before, the way she acted was the same. If she was here right now that meant that she knew that Bruce was Batman, but why would she come here, to rub it in his face?

"Remember what?" He questioned looking at her with a curious stare.

"Anything," she answered blandly. Her short answers were beginning to get him now, obviously she wanted him to remember her from his past, but that wasn't going to happen. How many girls had he brought home and fooled around with? How many of those girls did he remember by name?

"I'm getting irritated by your answers; will you not answer my question?" He asked with a bit of anger in his usually calm voice.

"The field trip was fun, you were nice," she said staring at him with eyes glazed over. "How is Alfred doing?" She commented standing up. Again Bruce was troubled by her answers, they were too vague, how was he supposed to drain any kind of memories or familiarity from them?

"So you were here on a field trip," he chuckled. "I'm sorry; there are many field trips to this company. The hope that I would remember you from all those students is folly," she said with an apologetic voice. He really wasn't very sorry, but he didn't want to girl to explode on him, it was hard to tell what kids would do these days.

"I know," she murmured looking out the window with a bit of sadness in her voice. "I just want you to know that I ran away from home, even though you didn't want me to," she muttered bored. Looking back at him one last time she huffed sadly before walking out of the room without another word.

"That was weird," Bruce sighed combing a hand through his hair. A nag had began to pull at the back of his brain, insistent that he figure out what was bothering him, perhaps Alfred would remember the girl.

As it turned out Alfred did remember the girl, which helped Bruce remember the girl as well, but he couldn't believe that the calm depressed girl from before was the same girl from three years ago. Alfred even had a picture of her for some reason, he explained that she'd taken one of them together and sent it to him. The girl in the picture was really different though. Same green eyes, but everything else was different, she no longer had long hair like in the picture, and she hadn't smiled once during the time that they had spoken briefly. She would be about twenty one now.

Remembering when she told him that she had ran away from home he thought back to what she had said to him a few years ago. She's come to visit him and told him that she was tired of being pushed away, and that soon she had plans of leaving. Of course since Bruce was the older more responsible adult he told her that her plans were not the best thought out, where would she go if she ran away? Where would she live? Eventually she gave up on the idea, but Bruce told her that she better not ever run away, then how would they hang out?

After she left that day she didn't come back.

"What brought this up?" Alfred questioned looking at Bruce with a kind expression.

"She came to see me today," he murmured thinking further into what Quilla had said.

"And how is Ms. Aberni?" Alfred questioned with a smile on his face. This caused Bruce to look over at him a little disheartened; she was nothing like she used to be.

"She seemed very," Bruce hesitated trying to find the right words. "Broken," he muttered before standing up and pacing slightly.

"Oh," the old man said turning away to look at the picture again. The girl in the picture looked so happy, he couldn't imagine her looking anything but cheerful, and ecstatic. "She used to be such a happy girl," he murmured picking up a tray of half eaten food.

"I wonder what happened to her," Bruce faded off near the end of his sentence.

"Why don't you call her parents?" Alfred suggested before walking into the kitchen.

"Maybe," Bruce muttered sitting back down. Quilla had been a very intelligent girl, figuring out things even some adults couldn't sort out, and she knew that he was Batman, but what was her motive? Was there any reason for her to try and convict him?

Perhaps tonight he would see her again, and then he could question her, take her back home even.

So tell me what you think, new chapter will be out as soon as I update my other stories. Review, yadda yadda, please, thank you.