"You can't tell me you don't see it, Harleen."

"See what?" I asked innocently, looking up from my desk. My co-worker, Joan Leland, had barged into my office this morning. I guess I'm used to it by now, she usually did. Even though it was annoying and I didn't appreciate it, I sort of understood that she was attempting to be a friend, and was only trying to care for me. But I already had someone to care about these things, already had someone to make sure I was okay.

And in my opinion, Joker does a great job. Some people think he's aggressive, but it's only because they can't see him for who he really is. After all, I'm his psychiatrist. I know these things.

"See them staring! Don't you understand? Understand what you're getting into? The consequences won't be worth it, Harleen, and I wish you could understand that."

Sometimes I pay attention to her, but mostly I don't. I would rather swim around in my dream world, where there is only him and I, and we –

"Harleen, you're not even listening!" Joan exclaimed, voice hoarse with tears. I hadn't realized she was so emotional, but I guess I should be glad I have a great friend like her. A friend who could get so emotional and worked up over my wellbeing. Except I don't need her, because I have Mistah J. So really, there's no point in her doing this, and I told her so. Bluntly.

"What?" She questioned. Joan's voice was still laced with tears, but now with curiosity. As she started her next sentence, I could tell she was getting a little angry.

"Harley, I'm trying to help you! I can't believe you're just... you're sweeping it to the side, like it's nothing!" Her voice was rising as she continued, obviously angry. I cursed myself on the inside for turning on her rant button.

"I thought when you finally got to work with... him, you'd get somewhere. But you're not. In fact, you don't understand it yet, but he's using you, Harleen. Don't you think it's happened before, to other therapists? What makes you any different?"

My eyes widened, for just a second. I didn't expect that, not really. All this time, swirling around in my own little world with only him, it seemed unquestionable that I was the only one. It was sort of shocking to find out I wasn't.

But that's okay. Harleen Quinzel gets knocked down and then gets up again. I had a second of weakness, where I let the utter shock show up on my face and I seemed vulnerable, like a little puppy on the sidewalk of the city, rain-drenched and whimpering and, and, and...

And pathetic. But that's not me, that was just a small mistake I made. I brushed it off; shaking my head and letting out an inevitable smile.

", I understand your concern. But please, you must understand that… Well, whatever you're concerned about? It's nothing." I leaned over my desk, getting a little closer, still smiling in reassurance. "Everything I do is smart and strategic. They're only therapy sessions, and I'm extremely confident that I'm getting somewhere the way I'm leading them."

Heck, even I sounded believable to myself. But Joan knew better by now; I always said something along the same lines. Something believable, but Joan was clever. She could see through my smoke and mirrors, through my confidence. I was sure I was getting somewhere, of course, but Joan(nor anyone else) would be happy with the means of them.

Joker just needed to be loved, to know someone cared. And he has! I wish I could tell her, that I could share my enthusiasm of where this is going. I know he'll be rehabilitated in no time, all because of me.

They just didn't understand.

They just don't know the importance of helping him, because they're absorbed in their own little worlds.

Well, that's not me. I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel, and I help people. And right now, I'm helping my very best patient: Joker.

Who could shun our relationship? I know it might be unprofessional for a doctor to fall in love with her patient, but they don't get it. We help each other, and it's just so easy to see. In return for my hard work, my faith, and my love, he's help me realize things I have never seen before. Simple as that, you see? Because my baby is an angel, sent to me from heaven: Why can't anyone else see it?

Sometimes I just have to look at him(probably while daydreaming again) and think, "What a guy, what a genius, what a dreamboat."

And he is. He's helped me realize it's all just a joke.