The rain pelted against the windows, the only light in the room illuminating the vanity mirror. Her blue eyes stared back at her reflection. When did I become this…
She touched her face, pale trembling fingers sliding down her cheek.
The space was dimly lit, the shape of a man sitting in the center casting a shadow along the walls of the padded room. "Mr. Joker?"
A soft chuckle was her only answer. It sent shivers down her spine. She turned back to the small window in the door and nodded once. The lights turned up, illuminating the cell fully.
He sat cross-legged, his arms bound around himself with a straightjacket. He looked up at her through strands of greasy green hair, a chilling grin splitting across his face. "Hello, Doctor." His voice was terrifyingly charming.
"Good morning, Mr. Joker," she replied.
"Morning, is it? I've lost track of time." His green eyes sparked and his grin widened. He wasn't at all what she'd expected. He had a narrow face with high cheekbones, and a defined jaw. She was shocked at the physical attraction she felt towards him.
"I could have a clock installed in your cell, if you'd like."
"That's very generous of you, Miss…" He ended the sentence with a questioning tone.
"Harleen Quinzel."
He laughed softly. "You know, that sort of rhymes with harlequin."
"Yes, so I've been told. But we are here to talk about you, not me." She wrote a quick remark on her notepad. "Why do you call yourself 'The Joker'?"
"I didn't choose it. I don't think I'm all that funny." He chuckled again. "…but, it kind of works, doesn't it?"
"Why do you think so?"
His laugh was petrifying. "That's the million dollar question."
She couldn't help but smile smugly. "It's about control."
"Oh?"
"I've analyzed all your crimes. It's all just a game to you. Gotham City is your playground, and the people in it your pawns. You are the Clown Prince of Crime."
He smirked. "I like you Doc. You've got spirit. You really believe you've got me figured out?" He leaned forward slightly, the smirk turning into a full grin. "You don't know anything yet, pumpkin..."
Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the loft. He was still sprawled across the bed in nothing but his yellow smiley face boxer shorts, breathing steadily in his sleep. He looked almost normal like this… sane...
The interrogation room was brightly lit when she walked in.
"Hey, Doc. You look lovely today."
She sat down across from him and crossed her legs, smoothing out the wrinkles in her black pencil skirt. She tucked a stray blond hair behind her ear before looking at him over the rims of her black framed designer glasses.
He was smirking at her, a glint in his eyes.
"Let's talk about last week, Mr. Joker."
"Oh-ho, straight to business! I like that in a woman." He chuckled.
She couldn't help the twitch that turned the corner of her mouth up slightly.
"There's something about holding someone else's life in your hands." He accentuated by turning his palms face up on the table, the cuffs around his wrists clanking against the metal table. "But the best part is actually holding a piece of them." He closed his hands into fists. "It gives you the ultimate power." He grinned. "You know what I mean, Doc?"
"I presume you don't mean metaphorically."
"Clever girl."
"Why do you do it?"
He slammed his fists on the table, his smirk turning into a grimace. "To make them see."
"See what?" She leaned forward.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her towards him. His face was close enough that she could feel his warm breath against her skin – it was intoxicating being this close to him.
"That I'm no joke," he whispered before the guards filed in and drug him away as he laughed hysterically.
A loud thunderclap rang through the warehouse, rattling the windowpanes. She stood and walked to one of the large windows overlooking the slums of Gotham City. This was her home now. This is what she chose – to be free.
Her Joker laid on the sofa in her office, his head propped up with fluffy pillows and his cuffed hands resting on his stomach. She pulled her desk chair closer and sat down, crossing her legs before clearing her throat slightly.
"Well hello there, beautiful."
"Good evening, Mr. Joker." She smiled at him.
He closed his eyes. "What do you want to talk about today, Doc?"
Harleen flipped through her previous notes a moment before answering. "I don't know anything about your past. Would you like to tell me about that?"
"There isn't much to tell."
"I'm sure that's not true."
He sighed dramatically, "Fiiiine. Mother was a housekeeper, and father a good for nothing drunk. They fought often, dad got physical. The more she begged him to stop, the harder he punched. One night, it was so bad he beat her unconscious. Then he turned to me. It wasn't the first time, but it would be the last.
I ran from him, into the kitchen and found the biggest knife I could. He was fat and clumsy and slow. I gutted him like the pig he was. My first kill. I was ten."
Eyes brimmed with tears, Harleen quickly blinked them away.
"I joined a gang after that. I finally found something I was good at. Until the Batman." He spit the caped crusader's name.
Another lightning flash illuminated the room. She nearly jumped out of her skin as the reflection of the Joker appeared behind her. He chuckled softly as one of his arms wound around her, his slender fingers snaking around her neck. They squeezed slightly as he tilted her head to the side, dipping his head down and breathing in her scent.
Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked down the dimly lit corridors. Haunting screams echoed against the walls. She stopped at the entrance of the asylum's maximum-security ward.
"I'm here to see the Joker."
The guard flipped through his directory. "Sorry, Ms. Quinzel. You're not on the schedule to see him today."
His body fell with a heavy thud. She dropped the metal baton beside the guard's limp body before punching in the security code and slipping into the cellblock.
It was deserted save for the very last cell. Another code and the lock clicked open. The hinges creaked loudly as the door swung open. He sat on his bunk with his arms crossed over his chest, a grin plastered on his face.
"I knew you wouldn't resist much longer, darlin'."
She took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Let's get outta here."
They raced through the streets of Gotham City. The Joker turned the car down a side alley, stopping by an abandoned warehouse. He turned to her and smirked. "I want to show you something."
He led her into the building, which was an old chemical plant. Some of the tanks still had the bubbling liquid in them.
"What is this place?"
He led her to the top of one of the containers. "This is where it all began, pumpkin."
She looked from the simmering waste up into his emerald colored eyes. He removed the pin holding her hair up, running his fingers through the silky strands before removing her glasses. He cupped her face in his hand, tracing her jaw with his fingertips.
Her heart beat faster as his hand moved down her throat. She couldn't speak, couldn't breath.
"This is where you begin." He pushed her into the boiling tank of chemicals, his laughter surrounding her as she fell.
Her skin burned as the toxic waste surrounded her. But she couldn't scream. The liquid drained from around her, and she found herself curled up in the bottom of the metal container, her clothes partially disintegrated. She opened her eyes to a grinning Joker, his hand outstretched to her.
She reached up, gasping as she saw her own arm, as white as his. He pulled her up and chuckled. "Welcome to my world, Harley."
Please R&R!