Another one-shot set in my AU where Harley is empowered but deranged and (so far) still a therapist, the Joker truly loves her, and they have a consensual kink relationship. Check out my other Harley stories if you like this one! The Joker is inspired by the Batman animated series (in voice and demeanor; obviously not how he treats Harley); Harley is inspired equal parts by the animated series, her comics, and my imagination; and Chief O'Hara is from the 60's tv show. Enjoy!

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I am all worn out, Diary. In the best way ever! I spent all afternoon bein' worn out in the awful unpleasant way, though, stuck in borin' interview after interview. No, I hadn't heard from Mistah J. Yes, I would let them know if I did. No, he didn't seem out of the ordinary (for him, anyways) in his last session. Blah, blah, blah, BOR-IN'!

Finally they were ready to let me go home with a police escort but they said they wanted me to turn over my therapy notes on Mistah J first. As if I would ever turn over our confidential session notes! Even if they are all phony, it was very offensive of them to ask and they should have more respect for the privacy of therapy work.

I put my hands on my hips and made a big scene. It was so funny, Diary! I used my haughtiest psychologist voice. "No, I will not be turnin' over my private therapy notes to you. Mistah - Joker deserves a chance for rehabilitation the same as anyone. How could I possibly expect him to trust me anymore when he's back if I spilled all his secrets to you? It would destroy all the work we have done so far."

Chief O'Hara wiped his forehead with a hankie. He looked real tired. "Sure'n I understand, ma'am, and I wish we didn't have to ask for them, but we have to check them over."

I frowned and started tappin' my foot. "I can assure you that there has been nothin' in his sessions to indicate any plans to escape or any plans to harm anyone. So you have no legal basis to look at my notes." I saw Dr. Arkham out of the corner of my eye and got an idea of how to annoy him.

"However," I said, "since you don't wanna take my word for it, I would consent for Dr. Arkham to review my notes and verify what I'm sayin'." Chief O'Hara looked real relieved with my idea while Dr. Arkham sagged a little and sighed. I had been seein' Mistah J three times a week for six months. He was gonna have a lot of readin' to do tonight.

"Yes, yes," he said, though. "That's a fine idea, Dr. Quinzell. We must maintain our patient's privacy after all and of course the officers would prefer a second opinion about what's in your notes."

I snickered to myself, thinkin' how I had Dr. Arkham wrapped around my middle finger. He'd thought after he hired me that he could force me into a multi-play pass but he had to go home to change his pants when I let him know I owned the movie rights to our first and only production number. What did he think I was, a dummy? Mistah J knows how smart I am, that's why I love him so much. He never treats me disrespectfully the way everybody else does. He knows I'm somethin'. Somethin' special. Just like he is.

Later tonight when I was comin' back to my room after puttin' my leftover lo mein in the fridge, finally Mistah J was here.

"Time to play, Harleykins." He slinked his arm around my waist and pulled me close.

"Oh, wait just a minute, Daddy," I said. He yanked my wrist up and pushed me down hard to my knees.

"You don't tell me to wait," he hissed. I wasn't sassin' him on purpose this time but I still got a tight clench and a flutter. I giggled.

"No, really, Daddy, I'm bein' serious," I said. "I made somethin' special to wear for you."

"Oh," Mistah J said, looking pleasantly surprised. He loosened his iron grip and helped me up, smilin' with excitement.

"You just wait right here while I put it on for you, Daddy," I said. "I won't be two shakes." Mistah J growled at me.

"You'd better not be three shakes or I'll shake your eyes out of their sockets." I squirmed again with glee and started sashayin' to the bathroom, shakin' my behind and takin' my time gettin' there.

"Well, I'll do my best, Daddy... but it might take longer than I thought to get it just right ... " Mistah J gave me his rambunctious cackle and I blew him a kiss as I shut the door.

When I came out and twirled around to show off my sewin' skills, Mistah J's growl turned appreciative.

"Harley, Harley," he purred, runnin' his hands up and down the black and red satin, "you really are my Clown Princess."

"Forever and ever, Mistah J," I said, loopin' my arms around his neck to kiss him. That's when the good wearin' out began. Ivy was fussin' at me one day over my bruises and I wish she would stop worryin' about how I like to enjoy myself.

She calmed down some when I explained it to her all science-like. I mean, I can't help havin' a super super duper sexual response to pain and Mistah J doesn't just love dishin' out what I love takin', he loves me just for bein' Harley. Just like I love him for bein' Mistah J.

You wanna know what I think is disturbin', Diary? Havin' sex with your plants.