A/N: Here we are, the last chapter. Please know I'm really sad to end this story! I've had the best time writing it, and I've loved corresponding with all of you who have reviewed, I feel like I have a lot of friends out there in cyber-land! Thank you to everyone who's been reading, and I hope this final chapter, like Batman, won't disappoint.

Seds

* * *

Rita woke up in her own bed, her head throbbing and a sense of dread weighing on her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. She was alone, and she could hear nothing other than the usual night sounds of her bedroom. She swung her legs over the side and stood up shakily; feeling faint and her stomach empty, it occurred to her that she couldn't have forced down food even if she'd had any. The slender girl felt as though she'd been unconscious for a hundred years, but she determinedly made her way to her door and tried to pull it open; it wouldn't budge. She tried harder, and still no luck. Rita yanked on the knob with all the strength she could muster, but it was no use; with a sinking feeling, she realized Mr. J--the Joker--must have secured it somehow.

Trapped. The teen felt a surge of panic rising in her throat. It was clear that the man she would have willingly trusted with her life, with the lives of her loved ones, had had some kind of break with reality, or maybe he had been someone else all along. Her heart was breaking piece by piece, but she now understood that she couldn't succumb to her sorrow; she had to focus on survival. A fleeting thought--what could she use as a weapon?--was cut short when she heard the sound of the front door opening.

Muffled male voices told her there were more than one man in the apartment; then footsteps trod purposefully up to her room and stopped just outside her door. There was a scrabbling noise and then the sound of something heavy being moved. To her horror, the door quickly swung open and she gasped as she stared at the apparition before her.

A man with ghastly white face paint and long, sickly green hair stood before her. The black kohl that outlined his eyes made a hollow, skeletal impression, while the garish red lipstick emphasized the deep scarring that confirmed her dreadful realization--there was no question, the man was Mr. J. The heavy purple overcoat made his slight frame look broader and more imposing than usual, and the voice that came out of his mouth was in a higher-pitch and more nasal than his usual warm speaking voice.

"Well, hello, beautiful. Enjoy your little catnap?" he asked with a lop-sided smirk.

"Oh, God--what are you doing? Why...why are you dressed like that?" she whispered, too shocked to remember to take a defensive stance.

"Oh, well, this is what I wear when I'm working. This is how Gotham is going to know me, and I thought you deserved a little preview...." He stepped forward in what Rita took to be a menacing posture.

"Please! Jack, don't hurt me...I swear, I won't tell anyone about Charlie, I won't tell them about anything you did or said tonight...."

The Joker made a dismissive gesture.

"Yeah, I been thinking about all that. Listen kid, you tell 'em anything you want. There's no evidence to link me and Charlie, and by the time you get around to talking to the cops, I'll be long gone. It'll all be small potatoes in the big scheme of things anyway...."

"You're...you're not going to...?"

"Kill you? Naaah. All things considered, there's nothing you can do that'll put a crimp in my little plans, so you know, knock yourself out if you want. Or, not...it doesn't really matter anymore." He ran a leather-clad finger down her cheek, over her neck, and down between her breasts, making her shiver. She didn't trust him anymore, and the touch of the leather was cold, unyielding and totally unwelcome.

"Jack...don't. Please, go take that awful stuff off your face, take that dye out of your hair...please, please be Jack again...." she pleaded.

"No, no, no, no. Listen, angel, in a lot of ways--this is who I really am. It's better you find that out now, ok? I know it doesn't make any sense. There's not much in this crazy world that does, and that's the joke. People spend their whole lives trying to play by the rules, and they don't realize until it's too late--there aren't any...." he put his hands on her shoulders and stared deeply into her eyes, speaking in a soft, dream-like voice that almost lulled her into calmness.

"Jack--I love you. Please, we can get through this, we can get help for you...." she rasped desperately.

The Joker laughed appreciatively.

"Oh, baby, you really are adorable! Love...now, that's bullshit, but I can see that you BELIEVE it, and that's almost the same as...the same as being real. So, let me just tell ya something--if I could feel anything--for anyone?--it'd be you and those gorgeous baby blues of yours. You really got to me, kid, you threw me for a loop and NOBODY'S done that since...shit, since I was a dopey teenager. You know? And, I have to say, I kind of liked it...yeah. I kind of liked it...."

"Then, stop this! Stop talking like that, stop acting like this...whatever's wrong, we can face it together, we can work it out...." Rita ached for him to hear her, to believe her, to agree with her...but he just smiled ruefully at her.

"Naw, kid. It's way too late for that...ol' Charlie did me a favor. He reminded me of how dangerous it is to play games when there's serious work at hand. I needed that, I needed to get back on track, and you, my dear, are FAR too delectable a dish for me to be able to hang around with and still keep my mind on the subject. Sooo, I'm just gonna hit the road. Get down to business and all that...."

Rita felt hot tears well up in her eyes and begin sliding down her cheeks.

"You're going to leave?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Yeah...." he said gently, running a purple-gloved hand through her hair.

"Don't I mean anything to you?" she whispered.

He cocked his head from one side to the other, studying her curiously.

"Mean anything to me? Well, sure, babe! Think about it--before, I really thought I oughta kill you...but I couldn't. That's how bad I've got it for ya...so, in a way...you mean more to me than...than just about anything."

"Then, how can you just go??" she sobbed.

"Rita, Rita, it's not about you...I've got things to do, don't you get it, sweetie? I can't stick around doing the love-sick school-boy routine with you anymore. It doesn't really suit me, and to be honest, it's dangerous for both of us. You'll be better off without me, loads better off...."

"No, no, please don't leave me...."

"Aw, sh-sh-sh, you'll be all right...." The Joker pulled her into his arms and held her for a long moment, amazed at how her small body shook when she cried. Then he released her and bent forward so his eyes were even with hers. "You've got a great future ahead of you, Miss Rita...you're smart, you're sweet, and you got a lot of fight in ya, besides being drop-dead gorgeous! Why, I bet..." His thought was interrupted when a rough-looking man stuck his head in the apartment and said, "Hey boss, that's everything--you ready to go?" The Joker waved his hand in a "just a minute" gesture.

"Who's that?" asked Rita, worriedly.

"A fine member of my growing team...hey, maybe you want to join us?" he asked teasingly. "I can show you how to load a gun, set a charge, drive an armored car...no? You sure? There's a place for a tiny thing like you, you could crawl into air conditioning ducts, squeeze into drain pipes--huh?" His dark eyes flashed merrily at her, and he was speaking in his old, familiar joking tone, but Rita didn't like anything he was saying.

"I'd go with you, Jack, I'd go anywhere with you, but not to be a criminal...please, just stay here and let's figure things out. We could...."

"Sorry, kid. It doesn't work like that. Now, like I was sayin'--you've got a lot of stuff to do, too. Like finish high school. Get yourself a scholarship, go to college and be somebody. Hell, maybe you'll end up being a psychiatrist and we'll end up together after all--" he leaned forward, winked slyly and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "I'll be the one in the straight jacket....And you can count on this--I won't forget ya...."

He kissed her, first on the lips, then on the forehead before he turned and began to shamble toward the front door.

She followed him, her voice broken as she asked one last time, "Jack...how can you just walk away? Please...don't go...what will I do...."

Jack paused, turning back to face her. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Hey, you're gonna have a great life! There's a lot of crap going on in this world, but my bet's on you, kid--you're going to make it a better place."

"Jack, don't do this to me! I love you, I can't live without you..." Rita's voice was faltering.

"Aw, babe, believe me...you couldn't live...with me." Jack gave her a look of regret, then raised a gloved hand in farewell, slipped out the door and was gone.

* * *

Rita stood frozen for several minutes. She was numb, unable to believe anything that had happened over the last few hours. She glanced at a clock--dawn was about to break and her mother would soon be home. She wanted her mom. She wanted to put her head on her shoulder and just sob and sob and sob. Her mom would make it better. Her mom always made it better.

Devastated, Rita walked out of the apartment. She looked up one end of the hall and down the other. There was no one there, no sign of any disturbance...tentatively, she walked the several paces to Mr. J's door; she stood before it as she had so many times, her heart beating quickly, palms sweating, but this time for entirely different reasons. She put her hand on the door knob and it turned easily, the latch not caught, just like the first time she met Jack.

Rita slowly took a few steps forward, opening the door all the way. She took in the whole scene--there was nothing there. Not one stick of furniture, not one scrap of evidence that a man had lived there for months and changed her life forever. Not even a bit of trash left in the corners...she walked through the other rooms, and it was the same story. Nothing, no sign of a life lived behind those doors.

She was about to leave, when she saw a little package propped by the front door. It was wrapped in wrinkled brown paper and tied with a bright green ribbon. There was a card--actually, just a piece of heavy paper--with the words "Lovely Rita" written on it. Puzzled, she bent down and picked it up. It was a small rectangular box a little larger than a legal-size envelope. She examined it gingerly, turning it over and gently shaking it--the contents made no distinctive sound.

She untied the ribbon, unwrapped the paper and opened the box. Inside were two envelopes. She opened the thicker, heavier one first, and found a set of prints of the "cover girl" pictures Mr. J had taken of her the day she came over to show off her new wardrobe; she flipped through them, again amazed by how different she looked from her own self-image. That day seemed so long ago....

She set those down and then opened the other envelope. Inside were ten one hundred dollar bills and another folded piece of paper. Bewildered, she opened that and read:

"Hi kid,

This isn't much, but maybe it'll help you get started on your college career. Don't worry, the bills are real, no fakes.

You're a good kid, and a hell of a lot of fun. Don't let anyone give you any shit, don't forget any of the stuff I told you and don't be so serious all the time. If you miss me, just turn on the TV, I'll be getting a lot of air time before long.

By the way, say hello to your mom and tell her the car's all paid up as far as I'm concerned, so no more working nights, she should stay home with you. Oh, and tell Lynne she was right about me, it'll make her day.

See you in the funny papers,

J."

Rita carefully replaced everything in the box, gave one last glance around the empty room, and headed back to her apartment. She went into her bedroom and put the box and the camisole Jack had given her in the back of a drawer and covered them with her clothes. She straightened the covers on her bed, tidied her nightstand, and went into the kitchen. The window Charlie Oswald had used to gain entry to the apartment was open, and Rita closed and locked it. She began putting on a pot of coffee, when she heard a key in the front door lock. Gail briskly walked in and started when she saw her daughter in the kitchen.

"Rita! What in the world are you doing up so early? I figured you'd still be sawing logs at this hour...."

"Yeah...well, I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. I guess I'm a little upset, Mom."

"Upset? What's wrong, baby?" Gail hastened to her daughter's side and put her arm around her.

"Mr. J moved out last night."

"He did? Just like that? Well, for heaven's sake, how come?"

"I...I don't know, really. Something about his...his work. Oh, and he said not to worry about paying any more on the car, he doesn't want any more money for it." Rita clasped her arms around herself and shivered. Gail noticed that her voice was weak, her eyes were red and that she looked a little pale.

"Really? Well, how do you like that, that was awfully nice of him...aw, sweetie, did you have a little crush on him?"

"I guess so. I...I really liked him, Mom. I'm going to miss him." Rita wasn't even thinking about the words she was saying, they just seemed to flow out naturally.

"Oh, baby. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts now, but you'll get over him. He was a little old for you anyway, don't you think?" Gail asked with a gentle smile.

"Yeah...."

"Are you not feeling well?"

"Actually, no. My throat hurts, and so does my head. Do you think I could stay home from school today? I may be coming down with something...."

Gail appraised her daughter; she wasn't one to fake illness, and she certainly did look a bit under the weather.

"I think that's probably a good idea. Why don't you go on to bed and try to get some rest? I'm going to fix something to eat before I go to bed myself and I'll make you a plate. You can just heat it up when you wake up, ok?"

"All right. Thanks, Mom."

"No problem, sweetie." Gail turned to the refrigerator, when she heard her daughter's small voice.

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

"I'm glad you're home."

"Me too, baby. Me too."

* * *

A few days later, Gail was chatting with Lynne and Rita as she sliced vegetables for their dinner. Lynne was spending the night, and Gail was glad for that. Her friendship meant a lot to her daughter. She was happy to see that Rita had seemed a little more cheerful that day, and she hoped the teen was on the road to recovery from her "heartbreak" over the handsome Mr. J. She had been moping about so miserably that Gail was beginning to wonder if she needed to talk to a counselor or something....

They were watching TV when the story of a daring big time bank robbery featuring men with clown masks came over the evening news report. One of the oddest things about it was the "Joker" playing card left at the scene, and the reporter made quite a big deal about that, speculating on what its significance could possibly be.

Gail and Lynne were still laughing over some anecdote from the older woman's day at the hospital when that news report came on; Gail thought it was odd that Rita stopped participating in the conversation and was suddenly glued to the set. But then she smiled.

It was good to see her taking an interest in current affairs. She probably picked up that habit from talking to Mr. J so much--Gail had noticed he seemed to follow the news pretty closely.

It was probably a good thing for her daughter that the rather mysterious man had moved away when he did, before the girl fell completely head over heels in love with him or some such nonsense, but at the same time, Gail was sorry that he had gone. She hadn't gotten to know him very well, but it had been nice having a strong, dependable, level-headed man like Mr. J around, someone you could call on in a crisis, or just to help you carry heavy groceries up the stairs once in a while....

All in all, he'd been a very good neighbor.

* * *

As the days turned into weeks, the bank robberies continued, each time getting bolder, each time, the clown masks, the gag explosives, the "Joker" card...the police had no leads and the Commissioner was interviewed vowing to put a halt to this new-style criminal now known as "The Joker".

Rita flipped from channel to channel, trying to catch more of the brief security footage of the men in masks; she was always able to pick Mr. J out of the group by the way he held himself and by his ambling gait. She was glad that, so far, no one had been seriously hurt in any of the jobs; she hoped no one ever would be. As always, she wrestled with her conscience over whether or not to go to the police with what she knew. As always, she decided against it; she didn't know anything, really.

As the feature ended and the next began, Rita found herself hearing him joking with her, warm, teasing, and she remembered the way just the sound of his voice could make her knees weak and her pulse race. The image of him standing outside laughing, his wild blond curls illuminated by the sun, making her giddy when he greeted her with that smile....remembering the way it felt to lie in his arms, to kiss him, to touch those scars....He had changed her forever, and no matter how badly it had ended, she knew she would always love Jack, her Mr. J, and that somehow, even if he didn't believe it, he had loved her, too, at least a little bit, at least for a little while....

Maybe she should have gone with him. Maybe she could have changed him if she just tried hard enough. Or, maybe...maybe she'd have ended up dead. Sometimes, when the hole in her heart felt like it would expand and expand until there was nothing left of her, she thought that sounded pretty good. But then, her mom would come home or Lynne would call, or a college flier would come in the mail, and she knew...she was going to be ok. Just like he said.

"My bet's on you, kid...."

Looking at a catalogue for State University at Gotham, Rita made a decision. Mr. J was right. She would make sure he won his bet.

THE END.

PS: The quote, "My bet's on you, kid," came from an old Humphrey Bogart movie which I can't remember the name of to save my life. It's not "Casablanca". I just thought it sounded like something Mr. J would say on his way out. Let me know if you know the name of the movie....

UPDATE: Thank you to Glasg0wsmile for remembering the name of the Bogart movie, it's "Dead Reckoning"!