Deep within Arkham Asylum, The Joker sat in his cell. Legs spread out across the floor, arms wrapped tight around himself, confined by a straight jacket. He hummed a silent tune, slowly bobbing his head along to it. Another day coming to an end, and a productive day it was. He provoked Crane, and got him sent to Solitary for the next two days, made a couple jokes at Two-Face, and even managed to manipulate a nurse into a mental breakdown.

She should be checking in shortly, he thought to himself with a laugh.

All this before dinner, and the night wasn't even over yet. The Joker wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, humming to himself, but surely a couple hours at least, as the day lights turned off quite a while ago, the hall now only illuminated by a dull yellow light. He didn't sleep much, hardly ever really. His mind was so active, too many ideas to sort through. Sleeping medication never worked on him, no matter how many times his doctors amped up the dosages. He instead, resolved to spend the remaining hours of the night to come up with new ways to breakdown his current doctor.

Dr. Scrant. What kind of name is that? Such a pain in the ass, with his stupid stuttering and constant needs to pry, pleading for me to open up so he can 'save me'. Makes me want to gouge his eyes out with my thumbs and kill him slowly. Joker growled and knocked his head back against the wall.

Code Red. Code Red.

A monotone voice coming through the P.A. system and sirens blaring with red lights flashing roused Joker from his thoughts. He made his way to his feet and peered out his bulletproof glass door.

I wonder who it is this time? Surely not Crane, he's not smart enough to escape from Solitary.

At the end of the hall he heard the beep from the wing doors allowing entry, and soft running footsteps coming closer. A small figure ran past his door just before the wing doors beeped again, and many heavy footfalls were heard, briskly chasing after the small figure. He tried to get a closer look to see what all the ruckus was about, but it was simply too dark. All he could hear was the joyful sounds of bones crunching, blood splattering, and bodies hitting the ground with heavy thumps. The sounds grew closer, making their way to his cell, enhancing his sight of the situation. Joker could hear their heavy grunts and soft wheezing as the final guard fought the patient that had apparently gotten loose. By the sounds he was making, the guard was clearly wounded and his odds of coming out of this fight alive were slim to none. As they stepped into the light, Joker could see now that the small figure that ran past his cell and taken down at least four guards in the last five minutes alone, was a petite woman with pale skin and long blonde hair. He watched as she used an employee key card to viciously slit the guard's throat with a euphoric smile on her face. Blood splattered across her face, sliding down her lithe form, the wall, and even his own door. The guard made gurgling sounds as he choked on his own blood, before slumping down to the ground, dead. The woman let out a heavy breath and blew a piece of hair out of her face. Sensing she had an audience, she turned towards the Joker's cell where he stood with a wild grin on his face, metal teeth gleaming.

"Red is definitely your color, sweetheart," Joker barked with a laugh.

She stepped closer to his door, now only inches away from the glass, pressing her bloody hands up against it, still holding the key card.

"Excuse me?" The woman spoke with a dark questioning voice, and the Joker's grin grew bigger.

"You heard me, sweetheart."

The Joker took in her appearance, starting with her bare feet, covered in blood. Her entire Arkham orange jumpsuit, stained red with blood, fitted her body well, showing all her curves. Her blonde her, now matted with blonde, fell to her mid torso. She had a soft, slightly angular face, which was splattered with blood, and plump lips pulled up into a smirk. But what really drew him was her eyes, so very blue, and had a wild glint in them.

Feeling his prolonged stare on her body, she smacked her hands against the door to get his attention.

"What are you staring at, Clown Freak?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

At her words the Joker let out a long maniacal laugh.

Man this girl is just getting more interesting by the second.

Seeing the woman's face scrunch up, he slowly let his laughter die down.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"What's it to you?" She pulled her face into a frown.

The Joker giggled darkly, "Oh, I like you, quite feisty." Taking a step back, the Joker did a goofy bow before standing back up. "The Joker at your service, but you can call me Mr. J".

She tried to stop herself, not wanting to encourage his antics, but felt herself let loose a small smile.

"Harleen Quinzel. But I prefer Harley."

Upon hearing her name, Joker's face once again split into a wild grin.

"Remove the 'zel', and you get Harley Quinn, like the Harlequin. That's a good one!" He couldn't help himself but to laugh.

What a pair we'd make. The Joker and The Harlequin.

"Ha. Ha. So funny, as if I haven't heard that one before,' she spoke sarcastically, crossing her arms across her chest.

"You and I are going to have so much fun together, Harley," he told her giddily with a devious glint in his eyes.

Dropping her arms by her sides, she stared at him questioningly.

"You think so? Well I'm going to let you get back to whatever it is crazy clowns do, and mosey on outta here," she brought up the arm holding the key card and waved it in front of his face.

"Goodbye, Mr. J," she then turned to continue down the hallway, before his voice stopped her.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you," he spoke smugly.

As if on cue, the wing doors beeped, and guards came running in. Harley tried to run, but she was unprepared, and they came upon her fast. She punched and kicked, even biting, struggling to get free, but a needle was pushed into her neck, and she felt the fight starting to leave her. The world around her started to spin, her limbs beginning to feel heavy, and her eyes started to close. The guards put a straight jacket on her and began to drag her limp form down the hall, back to her cell.

"Goodbye my Harlequin," he spoke as he watched her body grow farther and farther away.

Maybe this stay at Arkham won't be so bad after all.