It was the first snow of the season.

The Joker had never been happier. He watched from his seat in the REC room as the tiny white flakes gathered outside his window, a small smile played on his scarred mouth. The grounds of the asylum were already covered with a thin white blanket, the trees gathering snow. He imaged the entirety of the trees outside covered in purple Christmas lights. Purple and green, of course. Christmas was his favorite time of year. Summer was unbearably boring, Autumn wasn't grey enough, and Spring… Did he even need to elaborate about Spring? Winter was perfect. In the day, the skies were a crisp blue against the backdrop of thousands of dead trees and frosted skyscrapers. Snow falling was always wonderful. It got dark early, around six o'clock. And then there were the Christmas carols. He grinned as he started to hum 12 Days of Christmas.

"It's pretty, huh?"

Joker rolled his eyes up towards the owner of the voice. He blinked once when he saw her. "What's up, Doc?" He asked, raising one lazy eyebrow, the smile still on his face. She grabbed a chair from a nearby table and pulled it up next to him.

"I was told you didn't eat breakfast this morning. Or lunch," She said, cocking her head to the side. A piece of blonde hair fell from her bun and hung over her ear. Oh, she looked so cute. The Joker had to resist tucking it behind her ear and then grabbing her by the hair and… He was snapped out of his dark fantasy when she raised an eyebrow. He licked his lips slowly.

"I wasn't hungry."

She rolled her eyes and then looked down at her clipboard. "It says you hardly ever eat more than one meal a day. It's worrisome. That, plus your erratic sleeping schedule…"

"You watchin' me sleep, Doc?" He asked, watching her intently with narrowed eyes, but his voice was playful.

She smiled. "No. But other people do."

"I feel violated," He added dryly.

Switching tactics, the doctor said, "So you like the snow?" She leant back in the folding chair, crossing one of her long legs over the other. His eyes flickered up and down her quickly, but taking in every detail. The muscles shifting beneath her skin were obvious as she lifted her left leg and crossed them at the knee, her already short pencil skirt rising up ever so slightly. He could see almost all the way up her inner right thigh.

"I love the snow." He turned his attention back to outside. "I like Christmas even more."

"Is that so?" She said with a smile.

He nodded eagerly. "Oh, yes. The songs, the merry feeling in the air, everyone smiling. That's what I live for, you know. Smiles." She grinned at his childlike enthusiasm and he raised his eyebrows, pointing at her and waggling his finger in the air. "Just like that. Beautiful." She flushed pink at his compliment, her blue eyes dropping down to her lap, her lips still turned up in a smile. Her two front teeth grasped her lower lip uncomfortably. He really did find her incredibly attractive, a fact which was bothering him more and more everyday. He just couldn't help it, though. It was physically painful keeping his eyes away from those legs. Her blush was almost just as erotic, though. He leered at her lecherously, but he could tell that smirk didn't make her as frightened as it used to. She had gotten used to how strange he was and she didn't think of him like normal patients. When another patient would grin at her in such a way, she'd assume he was sexualizing her. When the Joker did it, she couldn't help but smile. He was innocent in her eyes. At least… Like that.

"Mr. Joker," She said, clearing her throat. Her foot swung back and forth, her red stiletto heel swinging out into the air and back against her calf. Her toenails were painted the exact same color. "I really shouldn't be in here much longer. I know it unsettles the other patients. Please, though, try to eat a little more. For me."

"Tell them to get better cereal," He muttered as she stood up.

She pursed her lips in a grin. "Will do. Lucky Charms?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him, cocking out a hip as she waited.

"Cocoa puffs," He replied, licking his lips. She giggled, immediately catching herself, but she couldn't erase the sound from his ears. The grin that took over his face was almost frightening in it's intensity. That giggle did crazy things to him.

Two days later, after finishing his plastic bowl of Cocoa Puffs, he was escorted to his doctor's office. The name Harleen Quinzel: Psychopharmacologist was printed on a small sign next to the door number. He licked his lips as he was pushed in through the door. Harleen glanced up, her own tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip as the orderlies behind him cuffed his wrists and ankles to the ground chain, keeping him from moving off the couch. He sighed. A whole month of therapy and he couldn't even lie down on the couch.

He watched her curiously with his dark eyes as she adjusted some papers on her desk. He saw her foot swinging like it always did under the desk. Her shoes were black today, her skirt a light grey. He dragged his eyes away from her legs and focused higher up. Her shirt was a crimson red, unbuttoned precariously close to her breasts, but she wore a white camisole underneath, keeping it modest. He could still see the curves of her cleavage. There was a freckle just above her left breast, directly below her collarbone and right above the slope of her chest. He had noticed that freckle the first day. It always caught his attention, and he couldn't place why. Maybe it was the fact that no matter how hard he tried he could never spot an imperfection on her gorgeous skin. Just that damned freckle. As the orderlies left the room, he raised his eyes to hers. She was wearing her reading glasses, her eyes lowered to look at something on the desk that she was scribbling on furiously. Her lashes were long and when she blinked, they fluttered gloriously against the glass. "Harley," He purred. "I had a wonderful breakfast of Cocoa Puffs this morning. I wonder… Who could've arranged that?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

She smiled in response, still not looking at him, which was bothering him greatly. Finally, she stopped writing and dropped her pen, leaning back in her chair and glancing at the man in front of her. Satisfied, he leaned back too. "I'm glad I could acquiesce to your request. Sleep well last night?" She asked curiously.

He nodded happily. "Like a baby."

"I'm very happy to hear that. You look well rested." He took that as a deeper compliment than she'd said and with a grin, he relaxed further into the couch, his hands propped lazily between his legs, clasped down by the chains. "I thought you'd enjoy hearing about this, but the staff are planning to throw a Christmas party this year. I'm not sure what all it'll involve but I know there will be a tree and lights and all kinds of decorations. I'm excited," She mused out loud.

"That sounds absolutely delightful. Are you gonna get me a gift?" He asked conspiratorially. She laughed, a tinkling sound that made something inside him twist.

"I'll try to find something that they'll allow you to keep in your cell," She said.

"You're such a darling," He said bashfully, with a wink.

She grinned again, her perfect teeth showing. His head rolled to the side as he watched her, her red nails filing through another few papers. "So, we've talked about food and sleeping. How has everything else been? I have your vitals from this morning, and everything seems to be in check. You got a cavity filled yesterday, did you not?" She asked.

He beamed at her, showing her his smile and she held back a giggle. "I did. They gave me a shot in my gums," He said. "And they say I'm a sadist." She laughed again, cheerfully. She'd been better about that. When they first met she always tried not to laugh at him, but now she was quite open about it. He'd opened her up a lot more than she thought.

"Dentists aren't that bad. Try getting your finger pricked," She told him.

He grimaced. "Try being cuffed to your own ankles all day," He said as he raised an unamused eyebrow. He caught the fleeting look of concern on her face, but she was trained to hide her emotions. He had trained himself to always see them. It was a match of skills. Playing off her sympathy, he rubbed at his wrists. "When am I gonna get to lay down on this couch, hm? Haven't I earned a reward?"

Harley sighed, rubbing her neck. "I don't think that the director of the asylum trusts you all that much, yet."

Quietly, he looked deep into her big blue eyes and said, "Do you trust me, Harley?"

She bit the inside of her lip. "Mr. Joker —"

"It's J, sweetheart," He told her, leaning back.

"J," She murmured, tasting the word on her tongue, trying it out. He stretched, a warm thick buzzing feeling sliding up his spine. The look on her face when she said that… "How about Mr. J?" She asked. That feeling again. Oh, he liked that. He could definitely get used to that.

He grinned lazily. "That'll work."

Her lips pursed up in a smile. "I'll see about getting your cuffs off soon," She told him, looking at him from over her glasses. She was still biting the inside of her mouth.

"It's not like anyone will know that you took them off of me…" He said, shuffling his chained wrists.

"We both know I can't do that," She whispered.

He shrugged. "Worth a shot."

With a furrowed brow, she hesitated, but then… He caught the flicker of doubt across her face and then she said it. "I suppose if it's just this once time."

He smiled happily, like a young boy, perking up. "Really, Doctor Harley?"

She glared at him but was smiling. "Just this once." She stood up, swiping imaginary dirt off her skirt as she wandered over towards him. "I don't have the key for your wrist cuffs, but I can unlock you from the floor. You can at least stretch out."

"You're too kind to me, Harley," He murmured as she started to unlock him from the small metal square in front of the couch. As she bent down like that, he had a perfect view down her chest, and he sighed loudly. Then he heard the click and mobility was restored. She smiled and started to stand up, watching with satisfaction as he stretched his legs and popped his back, raising his arms over his head. "That feels nice," He said, smiling.

She grinned at him. "I'm glad I could help." She turned around to head back to her desk, when the Joker decided to act.

"Oh, Harley?" He purred.

"Mhm?" She asked, turning around, coming face to face with the unpainted clown. His cuffed wrists wrapped around her neck, jerking her close to his standing body. She was much shorter than him and her face slammed against his chest. He walked her backwards, keeping his locked wrists behind her head to prevent her from escaping. "J!" She screamed.

He slammed her against the wall, lifting his wrists and grabbing her jaw in one large palm. "Harley, Harley, Harley," He whispered, cocking his head from side to side as he assessed her. She was breathing hard, silent in her panic as he looked her face up and down. His thumb slid over her moist bottom lip. He watched as the flesh moved under the pad of his finger and then, as he moved his hand back to replace his grip on her jaw, he met her eyes. "You know, I've been thinking about this for a long time." His mouth was suddenly upon hers, his lips melding into hers with desperate passion. She didn't respond, not for a few moments anyway, just stared at him with unmoving lips. When his tongue slid across her lip, she gasped and he forced it into her mouth, manipulating her tongue with his. She moaned quietly and then jumped at her reaction.

The Joker grinned against her mouth, loving the sound of her breathy moans. She tasted so good, like vanilla or cream soda or something sweet like that. He had the length of his body pressed against hers and with every gasping breath her breasts pushed up against his chest. He shifted his hips to dig into hers only slightly, enough for her to feel the hardness in his Arkham jumpsuit. She gasped again, stiffening, but he knew deep inside she was just as excited as him. She'd wanted this, too. With a groan, he pushed himself harder against her. "Harley," He purred, releasing her lips and kissing down her jaw and neck. She was breathing hard as his lips scaled up and down her smooth, warm skin. Her hands hesitantly slid up her shoulder and into his hair, grabbing it in her fists. He moaned loudly at the strain on his scalp. The prevention of use of his hands was really getting to him now, unable to fulfill his want to grab her and throw her down on that desk, rid her of those ridiculously strict clothes and have his way with her.

If only he could have his way with her. She'd never recover. He shivered at the image in his mind, Harley, naked and lying before him, his name carved into her beautiful skin and the blood flowing freely for his tongue to lap up.

He pawed at her breasts, groping her, and he felt her nipples harden against the fabric of her shirt and bra, desperate to be released of their confines. "J," She moaned as he sucked on the skin of her neck. He grinned at the sound and then grabbed her again, swirling her around and pinning her under him on the couch. His cuffed hands grabbed her throat, keeping her still, but not pushing yet. Smiling down at her, he sighed.

"I thought that might satisfy me," He purred sensually. "But it only made me want more." She was staring up at him with those big cerulean eyes and he licked his lips. "I know you want me, Harley. I see the look in your eyes. I hear it in your voice. In the way you move, just desperate for my attentions… Admit it, baby girl. Tell Daddy that you've been wanting him, too." His hips rocked gently against her.

She moaned gently. "Yes," She whimpered. "I want you." She closed her eyes. She had tried to deny it for far too long. She couldn't stand to anymore. The Joker basked in her submission, shivering as he felt her relax under —

"Mr. J?" The Joker blinked, staring across the room at his psychiatrist. She was watching him with wide eyes. He looked down at his cuffed hands, chained to the floor and he blinked again, coming back down to reality. It had been a daydream.

"Sorry, Harley, what were you saying?" He asked, leaning back on the couch, and placing his arms over his lap, desperately trying to cover up the evidence of his arousal.