Author's Note: A chapter from my larger story, still a WIP. Please critique, review, etc. :) Thank you.


Early morning confessions

Anyone who knew Harleen, and not many did, they would know she was a woman of level headedness and a majority of the time took life's difficulties with a brave demeanor. However, tonight, or as Harleen saw it, an early, early morning, she found herself in a predicament that called for severe common sense and avoidance of any, or all, unnecessary confrontation.

She didn't have time to dress thanks to the fear in Pearl's voice when she told Harleen that The Joker was running rampant and asking - no, demanding for her. Her loose pajama bottoms flared out from the bottom of her red coat as she fast walked down the halls where a gathering of nurses surrounded Doctor Arkham, who, relieved to see her, said in haste: "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Ms. Quinzel, but the urgency was-"

"No, its fine," she interrupted. "You couldn't have handled this yourselves?" Harleen huffed as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes once more.

"I assure you we've done all we could to persuade him to stop but he's relentless. I didn't know who else to call." Doctor Arkham sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm rethinking this whole deal, Ms. Quinzel. Either control your patient or I'm calling Gordon and sending him to black-gate where I should have sent him 6 months ago." He lead Harleen to the Joker's room, surrounded by the asylum's personal swat team, where inside a young man was being constricted with a bed sheet. The Joker laughed and tightened the hold; officers surrounded him with guns at the ready waiting for Doctor Arkham to return and give orders.

"Alright boys, lay down the weapons we have Ms. Quinzel now. Hear that Joker!? We have her, let him go now!" Doctor Arkham shoved Harleen forward; she nearly fell.

"Deal's a deal, then." Joker released the poor intern from the hold watching as he scrambled out the door to safety, coughing along the way. Harleen glared.

"Get him!" Doctor Arkham shouted.

It was one swift motion of bodies racing past Harleen as they grabbed him, slapped on the handcuffs, and brought him down with a straightjacket minutes later. The echo of his maniacal laughter angered Harleen even more. How dare he cause all of this, to have her rudely called at one in the morning just to come watch him be man handled and in uncontrollable laughter, she thought, eyes never leaving his.

"Take him to solitary confinement." Doctor Arkham instructed.

Harleen interjected: "No, bring him to my office."

"What?" Doctor Arkham asked, mouth agape.

"My office. Bring him to my office."

"Ms. Quinzel…I don't think that's a very good-"

"He's my patient, my business. " she interrupted. "He wanted to see me…here I am. You got me up now lets see what he wants."

Doctor Arkham sighed, said: "Fine…" he turned. "Bring him to Ms. Quinzel's office and make sure he's strapped down, tight!"

After being lead through the halls by security and informed that The Joker was strapped and ready, Harleen slammed her office door as soon as the men lined up outside.

"Thanks for see'in me, doc. I got some problems y'know. Bad problems you doctors can't cure. Cure ol'Mr. J. Cure him so I can go home to a normal life and blah blah blah." Another fit of laughter.

Harleen glared at the clown tied tightly in her office chair. Fixing her glasses she opened the window, moved her other chair to face him, took a seat, and waited for him to talk.

The Joker was preoccupied however and began to look over at her desk eyeing a cup of pens: sharp pens. Harleen, noticing this, slammed her foot against his crotch drawing his attention to her face.

Grunting: "Rough foreplay there, doc. You should always start soft…like with your mouth first."

"Shut…up." Harleen threatened.

"Ha, what's the matter, doc?! Not happy to see me? I thought you liked me. Said so yourself. Liked my eyes if I remember right." Joker laughed.

Harleen studied him, thinking over the multiple responses she could start with until finally, said: "What did you want me for? You told me yesterday you were done with me. I counted on you to help me with my book and all you've done is cause me trouble. I could have gotten fired." she opened a drawer and pulled out her secret stash of cigarettes; in use only when her stress level exceeded to the point of insanity.

"I wanted to talk, Harley girl. No harm in that. And I'm not done with you, you just don't listen, I've told you this." His eyes watched the nicotine smoke evaporate above him, said: "Get rid of that! I don't want you smoking. You'll get uglier than you already are."

"Talk about what at one in the morning? This couldn't wait until Monday?" She asked, ignoring his awkward empathy for her health.

The Joker, though he looked happy, frowned and mumbled.

"What?" Harleen inquired, leaning closer.

"I can't remember."

She wanted to slap him. Knock the arrogance out of him. Of course, situations like this were normal between them - always have, ever since she met him. Harleen sighed.

"Than we're done here." she got up to leave.

"Wait!"

"What?!"

Joker mumbled to himself again looking pitiful, eyes hidden by a curtain of dirty blonde hair, the tips still green: "Sit down."

"I don't have time for games, Joker. Either you tell me what you need to tell me, or we call it a night…or very early morning."

"I wanted to ask you something concerning…a troubling realization…at least for me"

"What?"

Joker leaned back: "Can we remove the jacket first. I'd feel more comfortable."

Harleen thought it over, her conscience screaming insanity for even considering it.

Flexing his muscles and cracking his neck the Joker did look comfortable being out of confinement. Harleen sat back on her chair and waited for him to continue.

"Well?" Harleen asked.

"Well what?"

Harleen ran her hands down her face in defeat: "The question. You had a question for me. What was it?"

The Joker didn't seem to be listening, just stared with a new glare she was all to familiar with. Harleen screamed as he shot foreword; muffled by his firm grasp.

"Shut…up." he whispered, "Don-t wan-t to draw any attention, hmm?"

Harleen stayed quiet.

"You know," he started. "When you first arrived to my room, those nine months ago, demanding to know how I got in your office and knew of your…little book, you were a pain in my ass to deal with. I wanted to smash your skull in with my own fists. I wanted to wear your blood as my smile, chain you up and I carved my name in your chest with a serrated knife. I had no intention to use you for anything but my own personal gain, and planned to kill you after it was done. But there's something wrong now." he hissed and loosened his grip.

"What's wrong now?" Harleen whispered.

The Joker growled: "I can't."

Harleen frowned: "You can't wha-"

"I can't…kill you."

"Why?"

The Joker gave an inaudible laugh: "You tell me, you're the doctor. Your supposed to tell me why I'm feeling…at all," he licked his lips. "Why can't I kill you, doc? Why does this world seem a lot more fun with you in it. Like the Batman. I can't kill you."

"I…I don't-"

"No! Of course you don't understand." Joker's voice deepened. "Your just another doctor. Go on, tell me I'm crazy, Harleen. Tell ol'Mr. J he's gone nuts. You know, like everyone else."

"Maybe our therapy time is working. Maybe your being cured." Harleen forced a smile.

The Joker giggled in response, replied: "No, I can still kill everyone else, just not you. It's moronic to think I need to be cured of anything. I'm normal like everyone else. I love, I hate, I'm greedy, I'm selfish, I humiliate, I laugh, I have fun. Why do I need to be cured when I'm just like everyone else?"

"Because you murder people for fun."

"Such a normal, simple analogy. Your normal, Harleen, you really are. Nothing special about you. Boring. A waste of life. All these things, perfect examples to end your life. Yet when I think of reaching for your neck," He gently gripped her throat, squeezed once, caressed her skin, continued: "I can't do it."

An unfamiliar flash of emotion crossed his features, something Harleen would remember forever and notice again and again in the future. Harleen wasn't sure what to make of it. Affection? Lust? Certainly not love; neither gave the other anything to spark such emotion.

The grip around her neck, though gentle, couldn't make her forget the fear creeping inside her belly. To press the alert button, it was right in her reach. Why didn't she?

She felt strange and was sure he felt it too: lost with indecision.

"How long have you felt this way?" she asked, noticing the way her voice quivered; his hands tightened only slightly.

Strangely, he replied like a normal human being: "Since August of last year. After our talk on madness that led to a discussion on love. You asked if I had one. I told you I couldn't remember. You were different that day. You weren't Harleen. You were someone else. Someone like me. You were Harley."

"Is that why you can't kill me? I remind you of this person? Of someone like me, a Harley?" Harleen asked.

"No. You didn't remind me of anyone. No one I can think of, anyhow. But it felt like that. Do you understand? Harley is who you are. I can tell. You keep her locked away, for fear of being rejected by the world. I won't reject Harley. I can set her free. I can give her what she needs." she watched as he fell back in the chair looking defeated and truly exhausted.

Harleen noted the dark circles; the crease on his forehead. How long had it been since he slept soundly without his mind keeping him up with rambling thoughts and theories?

It was after two in the morning and Harleen ended their talk with a thank you, in which the Joker surprisingly smiled, his eyes adorned green, flashing another wave of emotion she was unfamiliar seeing him show. He ignored her though as she instructed he be taken back to his cell, and reminded the guards to keep their hands to themselves.

"I don't want bruises on him, boys."

"Yes, Ms. Quinzel."

"Night, doc."

Harleen left for home.


Don't forget to review, critique, etc! :) Full story coming soon!