Author's Note - Story begins just over a year before the events of the Dark Knight. I own only the plot and the original characters in this piece. The rest belongs to DC Comics and Warner Bros. I make no profit from this story. A work in progress and written with love and admiration for Nolanverse.

Reviews are welcome and encourage further effort.

The Endgame

Chapter One

Deja Vu

It was a greasy day in Gotham. The uncharacteristically humid, sweltering day in early autumn turned the film of car and industrial exhaust into a slick coating of big city sweat. It was mid-afternoon but the sun was cloaked in clouds and the feeble light was over-whelmed by the hulking skyscrapers transforming the streets into gloomy canyons.

The black cargo van with tinted windows snaked through the steamy streets intent on its destination, the Gotham City Armory, across from Monolith Square. Joker had decided it was time to beef up his arsenal and the Armory was one-stop shopping. It was probably the only place he was going to be able to pick up the bazooka he was anxious to possess. He could visualize hours of play with a weapon like that.

Inside the van, three men in woollen caps ready to convert into full ski masks upon arrival at their destination, one of them driving, listened to the Joker who was laying out the plan for the heist ahead of them in great detail. They could have gone at night but mid-day would be so much more satisfying. More play soldiers and rent-a-cops to confront, more citizens on the street to witness the action, and better light for the for the camera crews to capture it all for their supper time news cast.

The Joker sat in the back, decked out in a rumpled brown suit with a paisley shirt, green vest and full war paint. He sat with lanky legs splayed casually like he was sitting in a bar, long arms orchestrating his words every so often with dramatic flourish to punctuate his speech. His voice was gritty and dull, filled with a dismissive sort of contempt for his companions.

"This is going to be a surprise. Complete surprise. You're going to see people stunned and frozen at first and then some asshole will try to be a hero and we'll have to use fire power. Just remember to wait until I give the signal to do anything. I mean anything. I'm running the show here and anyone who forgets it will get left behind … dead."

The driver, a little guy Joker called Midget, looked in the rear view mirror at the man he called Boss. The dank straggly dirty blond hair needed a touch up. The usual green hued rinse was running to the ends leaving a lot of the natural colour to show through. His naturally kinky hair was wild and springy due to the humidity, standing out like an electric fringe around the white pancaked face with darkly kohled sockets framing intelligent brown eyes. Joker noticed Midget eying him in the mirror and flashed a sinister yellow toothed grin with the crimson slash that formed his natural mouth and the scars that extended out onto each ravaged cheek. He really was a hellish vision of complete and utter insanity today.

"What d'ya think there Midget? Ready to die today?" Joker shouted it like a preacher from the pulpit.

"Not today Boss." Midget tried to watch the road and the man in the mirror as Boss loaded a clip and pointed the gun at him, one dark rimmed eye squeezed shut, taking aim.

"Well then, pay attention. Right Charlie?" He looked at the man sitting at the very back of the van, literally riding "shot gun", cross-legged and vigilantly watching out the window for any trouble.

"Absolutely Boss." Charlie nodded quickly and gave a peace sign that make Joker smirk.

"Oh and ah .... Harry ..." The Joker addressed his newest goon sitting up front with Midget.

"Haldon" he was corrected.

"Asshat." Joker christened him on the spot. "You cretans really are just a taaaad-d below trained monkeys as far as remembering instructions. I woke up on the wrong side of the world today and if you do anything stupid, I won't hesitate to spray your brains all over the good citizens of Gotham."

Haldon turned to the rear seat to watch Joker push the chrome-topped glock into his inside suit jacket pocket. Joker looked back at him; head tilted downwards, eyes upwards, in a confrontational glare.

"Capice?"

Midget and Haldon nodded vigorously as Joker sucked in his cheeks and licked at the corners of his mouth like a deranged serpent. The haze of malice wafting from his hunched shoulders was palpable, like a vapour.

Midget took a corner a little too tightly and everyone in the vehicle fought to stay upright as Joker pulled out the gun again and began waving it in the mirror. Charlie looked on calmly, not much affected by the Boss's theatrics, which he was used to.

"I swear Midget. Today's the day! Today's the day you're gonna die." His eyes glanced out the side door window for a second to case where they were after the corner was behind them, then he looked back to Midget. But just as quickly, his eyes flickered back to the street. He nearly gave himself whiplash following something as they passed it.

"Midget, go around the block and come by that spot again, only - slooowly."

Joker was turned completely around as he watched out the back window, focussed on something or someone. The other three men strained their gazes after his to try and figure out what it was that had caught his attention.

Midget did as he was told taking the next right, carefully, and then travelling around the block. He watched Joker as he followed instructions. The Boss had changed position and was crouched in the space between the seats, ready to get a good look at whatever it was that had distracted him. As they came up around the corner, he roared in a murderous thunder.

"Slow down now!"

Midget rode the brakes carefully, desperately trying to please the armed psychopath in the rear.

"What is it Boss?"

"Shut it." Joker chewed on the inside of his cheek and narrowed his eyes as his vision lasered in on a small figure in front of a book store window.

"Stop. Park". He gave orders tersely.

Midget looked around frantically at the curb that was fully occupied by cars and trucks on a Thursday afternoon. There was no space. "Where?" He spluttered, waiting for the gunshot.

"Stop!" Joker barked in a tone that was not human.

Midget hit the brakes hard and everyone flew forward, Joker disappeared from his rear view mirror, while traffic screeched around them and horns blasted in outrage. He cringed at the heavy silence in the rear, waiting for the Boss to find his footing and use his weapon. Instead, there was a low cackle from the floor as Joker pushed himself back up onto the seat. He pushed his wild hair back from his face, still giggling, and then gazed out the window like a cat watching a bird.

All three men followed his gaze. The object of his focus was a woman, small, in blue jeans and a khaki military style jacket thrown over her shoulders. Turned, at the moment, as she was toward the store, her face was not visible but her most outstanding feature was a veil of wavy dark brown, nearly black, hair, cascading over her shoulders and down her back.

She moved and Joker's head tilted as he watched, waiting. As she turned away from the window, her profile came into view, and then she glanced out into traffic for a second and her face was revealed. Softly ruffled bangs framed her small heart-shaped face. She appeared to be about forty. Her expressive eyes were accentuated by dark eye liner, under a brow that was knit into a mild frown as though she was thinking very hard.

She was lovely but appeared fragile and the way she carried herself was guarded and tight. She carried a large hobo handbag over one shoulder and tugged at the corner of her jacket with her hand to keep it from falling off the opposite shoulder. It was an awkward movement as though she could only use one hand.

"Boss?" Midget was watching the traffic flow around them as they sat in the street like a boulder in the rapids.

"Not-t. Now." Joker pushed the driver's concerns aside as he remained riveted to the figure on the street. "Stay right where we are."

"But the traffic……" Midget stopped speaking as Joker moved a hand into this suit jacket, where the glock was stowed, without taking his gaze from the woman on the sidewalk.

Midget glanced to Charlie in the back, looking for some assitance with his situation but Charlie remained calm, looking around him, humming, as though he was waiting for an ordinary traffic light.

The van moved along at a walking speed as Joker continued his surveillance in silence.

Haldon, young and impatient, was growing tired of the silence and tried to understand the situation.

"What is it Boss? You know her? She's a little old, don't you think?"

"I think....." Joker told him in a bored fashion." That if you want to get any older, you'll stop talking right now." And then to himself, he muttered in a soft incredulous tone, "Of all the times to turn up, you gotta pick now?"

She stopped at a pet store window and the van stopped its progress once again serenaded by the furious drivers behind.

She didn't react to the car horns as her attention was on what was in the store window. She was about to tap on the glass to get the puppy's attention. The sign said it was a Schnoodle, two months old.

"You are seriously cute." She mouthed through the window at the little grey bundle up to his adorable ears in crumpled newspaper. The pup looked up suddenly before she could tap. He looked behind her with a beguiling curiosity that caught at her heart.

Before she could form a smile in reaction, a large gloved hand clamped over her mouth so hard she felt her lower jaw pushed back in its sockets and a heavily jacketed arm cinched her across the midriff, knocking the wind out of her as she was lifted from the pavement. The world spun and objects blurred together as she was vaulted through the side of a black van, head pushed violently to the filthy floor and held there by a hand that showed no restraint or regard for the fact that she was beginning to hyperventilate.

The sounds of Gotham retreated with the whoosh and metallic click of the van door. The hand that was pressing her to floor so forcefully was suddenly gone as she heard a deep masculine voice growl.

"No, no, no. I told you to bring her to me without any major contusions. What part of your reptilian brain failed to grasp my meaningggg?"

She heard a pained ooomph! and someone landing heavily on one of the seats. She could smell solvents and sweat and something else that she associated with combustion, like hundreds of matches being struck at once.

The same voice snarled again, this time in a higher, more nasally register.

"Midget – hit it! And turn on the goddamn AC!"

The order was given and the van floor shifted as they began to move. She had not dared to lift herself from the floor. She wasn't sure she would be allowed and she was still hyperventilating so her lack of breath was keeping her in that fixed prone position.

She did manage to turn her head to look toward the origin of the voice and she was met with a pair of very worn, but probably once expensive pair of pointy-toed, brownish dress shoes. She took in some details, socks, multi-coloured. Was that argyle? Her vision began to darken around the edges as her heart pounded staccato in her chest, reacting not only to the fright but also the lack of oxygen.

"Breathe." The one in charge commanded from on high. "Breathe, Claire."

Her eyes widened at the sound of her name. Had they gone through her handbag for ID? But she could feel the soft lumpiness of her bag still beneath her. In the midst of her growing confusion, a strong leather bound hand grasped her left wrist and lifted her up to a sitting position on the floor. Long, lean brown trousered legs fell into a crouch before her and she gulped at the rancid air around her as she lifted her gaze to take him in.

A mud coloured suit jacket that despite its colour, still showed a fair amount of dirt and grime, from wear and tear, a bottle green vest that hugged a narrow chest, a shirt at fashion odds with a gaudy tie and then curls, green curls, registered in her addled brain a nano-second ahead of the bizarre parchment face and soot encircled sable eyes. Her heart tripped up several notches and she could hear it hammering in her ears as the scarlet gash of his mouth split into a hideous grin, exposing two even rows of yellowed teeth. Red stained the edges of his teeth, giving him the appearance of having just chewed on something bloody and raw.

Joker peered into her face intently for a moment, wondering whether he had been mistaken. She didn't seem to react in the way he had imagined. No trace of recognition in the surprisingly calm olive green eyes. His gaze was distracted by a flash of white under her jacket and he noticed that her right arm was in a plaster cast from the elbow and extending down to her hand and then partially around her palm and thumb. That was why she had been wearing the jacket like a cape. And they had just thrown her down on top of what was most likely a fractured wrist or arm. But she wasn't howling in pain, most likely still in shock.

He was about to study her face again in an attempt to discern if he had indeed grabbed a look-a-like by mistake when he noticed something that had fallen from her pocket to the floor. He reached down carefully, holding his breath for a second, hardly able to believe what he was holding in his black gloved palm. A chess piece, the black queen, fashioned into a key chain. It looked a little bit beaten up; after all, it had been what, thirteen years? But he remembered the day in shop class, carefully drilling the hole and putting it together. There was no mistake.

"Midget, where the hell are you going?" His eyes rose to hers as he barked at the driver. His grin never faltered.

"To the Armory, Boss." The driver called out, nerves adding a lilt to his voice.

"Not the Armory. Head back to base."

He pursed his painted mouth now, tilted his head slightly and gave her a questioning look, eyebrows raised beneath the white paint as it cracked across his broad forehead.

"Well?" He was waiting.

Claire was caught in his dark gothic gaze, completely out of touch with anything resembling reality. This was a carnival house of mirrors. Distortions of distortions. Disoriented to time, place or person, she used up some of her ever decreasing oxygen to manage a reply.

"You know my name?" She panted like a marathon runner as the thug who had manhandled her into the van spoke up loudly from where he had regained the front passenger seat.

"We can't go back to base. My cousin Freddy, and Spazz, are waiting at the Armory. They have it rigged. I'm not leaving them stuck. They're waiting for the signal and the pick up."

There was a second or two of silence. Her captor's facial expression collapsed into one of perplexed annoyance and he winced. He sucked at his teeth noisily for a moment and moistened his lips with a flick of his tongue before responding to the henchman's remark.

"Forget those two. Mission's aborted. And - I don't want to hear your voice - again."

Joker turned his gaze back to her with complete focus.

"Of course I know your name. And you .... you ah, know me. Under the paint I mean. You know me." His voice was soft, intimate and seductive. "Oh, but don't go blurting my name out loud in front of the…" he waved nonchalantly in the direction of his goons, "the minions here. It will just stay between you and me. M'kay?"

He nodded at her, eyebrows raised, encouraging her to comply.

Claire frowned at him, trying hard to understand what he was talking about. She recognized this monster of course - the Joker. But underneath the paint? No. He was mistaken about that. Like the rest of Gotham, she didn't have a clue who he was.

"Breathe, Blossom. Your lips are turning blue. You're going to…"

"Boss. We have to go through with this. My cousin will kill me if ......"

Without a beat, without leaving his crouch, the painted man's dark gloved hand reached into and out of his coat in a blur. He hardly aimed the gun as it went off with a sonic bang that assaulted her ears painfully. She glanced over to see a pinkish grey spray of blood and matter fog the windows.

The van lurched violently as the driver tried to dodge the ricochet within the closed space. Something warm and wet misted her face. She stared for a moment, mesmerized by the gold watch chain as it swung and sparkled against his lean hip in the growing darkness.

"Oh, lookee." He spoke in quiet fascination as she slipped into unconsciousness. "There she goes...."