AN: This story is my baby. Please read kindly.

Chapter One:

Playing Nice

The Joker was a patient man, but this insipid prick was trying his patience. He keeps talking in circles, and this game is getting tiring. If it wasn't for the fact that the Joker needed to play nice to keep his social time -which he really needed in order to plan his next escape- he would have strangled the boy with his bare hands just to relieve himself of this agonizing boredom. It was taking every scrap of self-control that he had to deny the urges of his violent nature. His eyes remained unblinkingly fixated on the doctor's neck; much to his discomfort. The Joker reminded the young psychiatrist of a predator zeroing in on his prey. The Joker's fingers twitched anxiously and repeatedly against the steel table that separated the doctor from his patient. The table was hardly an obstacle from preventing his assault, but right now, the Joker was trying his hardest to pretend that it was.

At this time, the young Dr. Copeland finally stopped talking and took a moment to fully assess his patient's body language. He -just as any other dimwit in his position would- came to the conclusion that if he continued this session any longer, then those eager twitchy fingers would soon launch themselves across the table and wrap themselves around his neck. Dr. Copeland cleared his throat nervously under the Joker's scrutiny.

"Uuuh, perhaps we should pick up this conversation another time. You seem to be… anxious to get out of here, so I won't keep you any longer." The doctor rose from his chair and offered the Joker a quick acknowledging nod -which he did not return- before exiting the room. The Joker released a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding in until now and girdled a groan deep in his throat. That was too close…

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, ignoring the weight of the chains of the handcuffs that bound his hands together. Absentmindedly, he began slowly cracking each knuckle on his hands in an attempt to gratify his fingers and palms with the sensation of breaking something.

Two minutes went by before an orderly finally walked in to escort him back to his cell. The Joker crossed his arms as well as he could against the restraints around his wrists and feigned annoyance. "Well it's about damn time. Just how long were you planning on leaving me in here?" The orderly simply rolled his eyes and grabbed the Joker's underarm to get him up on his feet. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

The door buzzes open and the orderly exits the room with the Joker in tow. "Shut it clown. I've had one hell of a day."

"Aw what happened? Do you want to talk about it? We can go back to the room and have our own little session time. I'm a good listener and I promise I give excellent advice." The Joker smiled wickedly at the guard who only sighed heavily and chose to ignore him for the rest of the way. Unfortunately for him, the walk down to the isolation cells in maximum security was a long one, and the Joker was not intent on remaining silent for long; which came as no surprise to the orderly because everyone knew that the Joker was incapable of keeping things peaceful; let alone quiet.

When the two stepped into the confined elevator he began berating the orderly about issues in which he knew perfectly well that he had no control over. Truth be told, the Joker really wanted to test the orderly's limits. If he was a hot-head, then messing with him would be too easy. The Joker didn't mind toying with short-tempered people; he found them somewhat amusing. But he much preferred playing with people who were in control of their emotions and knew how to stay composed. It is a million times funnier when he breaks someone who doesn't crack easily. Getting under their skin is a challenge; and the Joker loved a good challenge. This is one of the many reasons why he was so enthralled by the Batman. No matter what he did, the Bat would never crack. The Joker admitted to himself that it was a bit irritating at first, but, he gets that much more fascinated by him with each passing day in which his stoic and arbitrary mind does not waver. Honestly, that Bat has a mentality made of steel. But the Joker didn't worry about this at all. With each hilarious stunt he pulled, the Joker could swear he felt himself chipping away at the Batman's walls; slowly but surely. He knows that one day, he will finally break the Batman, and he will be just as insane -if not worse- than the rest of the nutcases kept in the asylum. Because after all, it only takes one bad day…

"So Jerry- Can I call you Jerry? You look like a Jerry." The orderly sticks to remaining silent and looks on ahead with his eyes determinedly fixed on the crevice of the elevator doors; begging them to open and arrive on the lower floor so that he can be released from the Joker's insistent nagging. "When are you going to do something about livening this place up? It's so depressing and boring- and don't think I didn't notice the mold growing on the walls of my cell. What are you trying to do? Infect my lungs?" The Joker chuckles heartily. "Oh Jerry… You oughta know that that won't keep me from having my daily chats with you. As a matter of fact Jerry, I've got another complaint. When are you going to do something about the lighting in this place? Would it kill you to change a bulb? Or does it take more than one orderly to do that?" The Joker erupts in a fit of laughter and the orderly does nothing but suppress a groan and roll his eyes.

It was at this time that the elevator finally arrived on the final floor. The orderly could not be happier. He grabbed the giggling clown by his upper arm once again and guided him through the halls of maximum security until they reached his isolation unit at the farthest end of the ward. The orderly threw his hysterical patient in with a bit more force than necessary; which only set him into a greater fit of hysterics.

After several minutes had passed, the Joker finally calmed down enough to collect his thoughts. Ignoring his mattress, he remains on the stone cold floor and stares up at the white paint chipped ceiling. For a moment, he allows the silence to consume his thoughts in the briefest minute of meditation. Then, his thoughts burst into a beautifully organized chaotic mess that could not be interpreted by any other if given the chance to peer inside his mind. The Joker began plotting his escape yet again. Organizing every detail and possible outcome through the current of his madness.

First, he needed to collect a number of items to make his escape possible. This means that he's going to manipulate, bargain, and charm his way into a couple of people's pockets. This is exactly why he didn't rip into his psychiatrist's neck. He needed to keep his social time. He needed to socialize with his fellow inmates to investigate what exactly he could get his hands on. He had a rough idea about who was currently admitted in the asylum, so he began to contemplate the sorts of connections that he should be making.

An hour goes by in which the Joker brainstorms a net of possibilities before a new orderly interrupts his scheming to escort him to the recreational room for his social time. Finally. It's time to get to work.

The rec room is a fairly large room with several different options of entertainment available for the patients. On the right side of the room, tables are lined up in two rows and topped with several different board games and random decks of cards. The other half of the room had several couches assorted together for people to chat smoothly amongst each other. There is one single television set up in one corner of the room and there are two rarely used ping pong tables set up in the other.

The Joker took a moment to scope out his surroundings. The first thing he noted was the white scrubbed orderlies stationed at every exit of the room. Then his eyes roamed over the tables to find any face that was both familiar and possibly useful to him. His eyes rested on a man who was only partly visible to him. There was something about his side profile that seemed strangely familiar to the Joker. It wasn't until the man turned his head in his direction to grab a card from a deck on his table, that the Joker fully recognized his identity. It was Two-Face; The crispy mutilated half of his face was well hidden until just now. The Joker quickly realized that Two-Face was just the man he was looking for. He confidently stalked over to where he was and took an uninvited seat at his table.

"Deal me in boys," says the Joker; he was indifferent of the dirty looks he was receiving from the table's two occupants. After a moment, Two-Face scoffs in defeat and nods to his companion to deal the clown his cards.

"I can't believe they let the likes of you up here," says Two-Face; his eyes never leaving his hand.

"Well, what can I say Harv, the new management hasn't learned his lesson yet." The man opposite Two-Face laughs mildly at the Joker's response. It was then that the clown prince finally bothered to look at the third wheel to distinguish his identity. When it came to his face, he was similar to Harvey. The right side of his countenance had a large trail of scars that probably resulted from a severe mistake made during the construction of his famed weapon. The Electrocutioner -a.k.a Lester Buchinsky- was well-known for his reliance on his electrical radiating gloves. The Joker wouldn't be surprised if his disfigurement was the simple consequence of resting his head in his hand on a boring afternoon. After all, he was far from being the sharpest tool in the shed.

"So, what brings you here J?" Asks Two-Face. "You're obviously here because you want something. You wouldn't play nice long enough to be allowed up here if you didn't." Harvey was a smart one. The Joker didn't usually like working with other people, but when he had to, Harvey was always one of his top choices because he was smart enough not to need everything spelled out for him.

The Joker smiled into his hand and dealt a card on the table. "What I want is simple Harv: I. Want. Out."

Two-Face chuckled darkly. "Pfft, simple…" He eyes the Joker's card and then places one of his own. "Tell me J, what do I have to do with this simple desire."

The Electrocutioner then places his card with the others and notices the Joker scrutinizing his every move. "Lose the third wheel and I'll tell you," grins the clown.

Two-Face removes his eyes from his hand to look at the man opposite him. He debates whether he's interested in hearing the Joker's offer or not. He thinks back to the previous times that he collaborated with him and recounted just how successful and beneficial their partnerships usually were. So he came to the conclusion that working with the Joker again wouldn't be so bad. He gives the Electrocutioner a hard look to emphasize his seriousness. "Beat it Buchinsky."

The Electrocutioner takes a moment to look between both men and feels his invasiveness thick and prime in the atmosphere. He slams his hand of cards down on the table and slowly rises to leave while mumbling something incoherent to the other two, under his breath.

When the Electrocutioner is finally well out of their sight, Two-Face turns to his counterpart to discuss business. "What's going on J?"

The Joker smiles deviously and looks down at the card that the Electrocutioner had placed. Keeping up the pretense of their game, the Joker places a new card of his own on the table. "I need someone who can get their hands on certain things from the outside."

Two-Face scoffs. "Things huh? What kind of things are we talkin'?"

"First of all Harv, do you know anyone who can slip things in and out of the asylum?"

Two-Face reaches across the table to grab a couple of cards from the deck and places them in his hand. "Yeah I've got connections. I know a couple of people up in minimum security who -unlike us- are allowed visitation."

The Joker's wicked grin stretches even further. "Good. Now let's say that I manage to get my hands on something of value in this place. Would your connections be able to get me a copy of said item of value?"

The Joker places a new card on the table and Two-Face eyes his movements carefully. "Maybe. But what's in it for me?"

The Joker giggles to himself in utter amusement of Two-Face's direct approach. "Why, you get to come with me of course."

Two-Face is pensive for a moment as he studies the cards in his hands before placing one down on the table. "Alright J. I know a good deal when I hear one. I'm in."

"I knew you would be," grins the Joker. "First things first Harv, I need to get my hands on a key mold, and I won't find one in here."

Two-Face watches the Joker make his move in their card game. "A key mold huh? You know they've upgraded most parts of this place since you were last here. Pretty soon keys will be a thing of the past here. They use key cards now."

The Joker scoffs. "Thanks for the warning Harv but I know what I'm doing. Can you get it or not?"

"Of course I can," says Two-Face with some offence taken from the clown's questioning of his ability to obtain something so simple.

"When will I have it?"

Two-Face takes a moment to calculate the length of time that the process of hand-offs and bribes would take before the item could be in his possession. "A week from today, I'd say."

The Joker abruptly slams his hand of cards down on the table causing Two-Face to flinch at the unexpected rough movement. The clown prince leans back in his chair, arms crossed, and surveys his surroundings. His eyes scan the room, taking note of each face that he sees. "So how are things in here Harv? You been here long?"

With a heavy sigh, Two-Face drops his hand of cards and gathers the scattered mess on the table together. "I've been in here for eight months now." The Joker rests his hands behind his head, crosses one foot over the other, and reclines further back into his seat while releasing a long high pitched -wow- whistle. Two-Face scoffs at his counterpart's casualness. "Tell me about it… I'm ready to get the fuck out. I've seen too much shit happen here."

The Joker watches his feet rock back and forth on his heel. "Anything interesting I should know?"

During his stay at the asylum, Two-Face had seen a lot of whack-jobs lose their shit. He spectated each and every one hoping that the scenes would cause a big enough of a distraction for him to slip out unnoticed. But of course, an incident that big hasn't yet occurred. He was about to shrug his shoulders and answer when a caramel skinned woman in a white coat caught his eye. It wasn't the presence of this doctor that made Two-Face stop in his tracks, it was the person who always seemed to follow close behind her, as of late. "Well…" Two-Face nodded to the Joker in their direction. "There's her. She's been pretty interesting…"

The Joker's eyes followed the direction that Two-Face had pointed out, until they rested on the doctor talking to what he assumed was her patient. The doctor's back was to them and neither of them had a clear visual of who she was speaking to. Whoever she was conversing with was sitting down while the doctor stood before the patient, blocking their view with her back. The Joker watched for a minute out of curiosity as to who Two-Face was referring to. He knew the patient was the one he was talking about because doctors were never interesting people; They're all so boring.

When the doctor finally moved to exit the room, leaving her patient to enjoy the social hour, the Joker could finally see her. It was a ghostly pale girl with long blonde hair. She sat alone at her own table on the other side of the room. She looked like a lost little lamb in a den of wolves. Nothing about her seemed interesting at all. But of course, something about her had to be; simply because of the fact that she was in this room right now. Arkham Asylum has only one rec room for its patients. That means that its inhabitants of all wards had to share this single room in rotations. Right now, only the patients from maximum security who were behaving well enough were allowed in the room at this time. And as far as the Joker knew, Poison Ivy was the only female patient being held in maximum security and they usually don't let her out because she loved to rebel against authority. He found it interesting that this woman was crazy enough to be held in Arkham's toughest ward but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why she deserved to be there. He raised his eyebrows at Two-Face, waiting for an explanation as to why she was pretty interesting.

Two-Face catches the Joker's questioning look. "You haven't heard about her? They shipped her in from some joint down in Louisiana- she and these two other guys. They keep her in this cage that they made just for her- right smack-dab in the middle of the west wing. I can get a good look at her from my cell; anyone can from that part of maximum. She's been here for maybe three months now, and let me tell ya- that girl is a fuckin psycho. At first, I didn't get why they bothered to lock her up with the rest of us, but it became pretty clear, real quick. She kills anyone who talks to her; anyone who walks into her cage doesn't walk out alive. It was only until about a month ago that she started playing it cool and now they're letting her up here."

The Joker looked back at the girl and tried to imagine her killing anyone. He couldn't picture it. From here, nothing about her looked dangerous, so he decided that he needed to get a closer look. Two-Face watched as the Joker rose from his seat. "J, what're you doing?"

The Joker turned to him before leaving. "I wanna see what all the fuss is about," he grinned wickedly.

"Trust me J, you don't wanna do that," warned Two-Face, unsurprised by the Joker's indifference towards his warning.

He strode confidently up to her table and plopped himself down in the empty seat right next to her. The blonde girl shot him an immediate annoyed look but remained silent. The Joker took it upon himself to speak first. "Hello doll face. I couldn't help but notice you from across the room." Her look of annoyance turned into one of disgust. She was in no mood to be hit on by some freak with green hair. But of course, her sour face wasn't bothering the Joker at all. He continued as if she wanted to hear him speak more. "You know; I've never seen you here before. Do you come to places like this often? I do." The Joker grinned darkly and she responded only with a roll of her eyes. "What's the matter sweetheart? Do you not speak English or are you just hard of hearing?"

The girl folded her arms over the table and looked away from him, muttering something quietly to herself that the Joker assumed was a cuss. "Well, whichever it is, it's alright with me kiddo. I'm not a man of words anyway, I'm a man of action; and I appreciate anyone else who can walk the walk. So tell me, what did you do that got you into a place like this?"

The blonde woman releases an exasperated sigh while leaning her head into her thumb and index finger placed against the top of the bridge of her nose. She closes her eyes for the briefest of moments before opening them abruptly and turning to her unwanted companion wearing a wide dazzling smile. "Listen; I'm real flattered by all of this attention- really I am." She stretches her arm out and rests her hand atop one of the Joker's which was resting comfortably over the table. "And I'm sure that you're a real great guy." She patted his hand in time with her pronunciation of the last three syllables. "But… if you keep talkin' to me…" Suddenly her nails begin digging into the flesh of his hand and her smile has completely vanished. "…then I will rip your tongue right out of your mouth and shove it where the sun don't shine."

The Joker instantly erupts into a fit of laughter. His loud, booming hysteria resonates perfectly about the room, demanding the attention of everyone who heard it. His laughter was startling and sheer panic soon enveloped the atmosphere. Two orderlies quickly scurried over to the table to determine why the Joker was laughing so furiously because they -just as everyone else- knew that his laughter was never the product of anything good. However, when they asked what was going on, the Joker was unable to respond; he was too busy howling to even notice them.

He could not believe that he was just threatened by this blonde little girl. She looked him dead in the eyes and threatened him. The audacity! She was too hilarious; the Joker couldn't contain himself. Did she have any idea who she was dealing with? If she did, then she must not have meant for her threat to be taken seriously. This had to have been a joke right from the start. There is no way that this little lamb has the spine to threaten someone like him.

The Joker tried calming down enough to compliment her on her joke but he was too beside himself with giggles that he didn't have the power to stop himself. The orderlies looked to the girl for an explanation but she didn't have one. She was accustomed to people shrinking away in fear of her threats, not laughing at them. If anything, she was the one who laughed when people threatened her; it has never been the other way around. She took immediate offense to his giddiness and could no longer tolerate his presence. "He's bothering me. Can you guys get him out of here?" She said to the orderlies. They gave each other a look before agreeing to do so. The clown's laughter was ruining the laid-back therapeutic atmosphere that the patients needed, so removing him from the room seemed like the best thing to do anyway.

The two orderlies each grabbed him by either of his upper arms and lifted him off his seat. The Joker still hadn't regained control of himself so he threw his head back in a fit of howling laughter and allowed the two white scrubbed men to drag him away, back to his cell.

Once alone, the Joker finally mustered up the strength to calm himself down. His mind could not stop reeling back to the audacity of the blonde little girl. Two-Face was right. She is pretty interesting. Although she isn't very bright; threatening him like that as if there were no consequences to be paid. She's lucky she caught him in a very good mood because otherwise, things would have turned out much differently. The Joker did not appreciate hearing the same joke twice, so if she tried that again and expected the same outcome to result, then she has got another thing coming. He decided that because she got a great laugh out of him, he would let her go unpunished for her deed this time. After all, no one appreciated a good joke more than he did, and her's was beyond hilarious. He tipped his hat to her because no one has been able to get that big of a rise out of him in a very long time. As a matter of fact, now that he thought about it, the only other person who could make him laugh that hard was the Batman, and he hasn't seen him in a while.

This little lamb may prove to be a good distraction for him during his down time, and there was going to be a lot of it during the preparation of this escape. Getting the items he needed was going to take some time. He didn't see himself leaving the asylum until at least a month or two later. Maybe even three. So, he welcomed the existence of his new little toy. She could help make the waiting time easier on him by keeping him in good humor. He certainly was looking forward to speaking to her again tomorrow. The thought never occurred to him that she was in no way interested in conversing with him again. He didn't care whether she wanted to see him again or not; he was going to start talking to her anyway, whether she liked it or not.

The Joker sat up on his mattress and leaned against the stone wall, staring at the door that kept him confined in this tiny space. He couldn't wait to be freed from this nuthouse. He didn't belong here. He wasn't crazy. He preferred to think of himself as eccentric; and there was no crime in that, so why did he deserve to be in this place? Granted he knew that he was a criminal, so shouldn't they hold him at Blackgate Prison instead? To be honest, the Joker preferred staying at Arkham Asylum. The people here were more interesting. His blonde little toy was proof of that. The Joker had more connections at the asylum but making new ones at Blackgate wouldn't be difficult at all. The inmates at Blackgate were all driven by lust and greed and manipulating them into doing his bidding was mere child's play. At least at the asylum most of the patients could not be won over easily by promises of money and freedom. The Joker really had to analyze different characters and find the right buttons to push. He appreciated the different variety of criminals that were here who helped sharpen his charismatic and manipulative abilities. So he supposed that he shouldn't complain about being confined at Arkham because in a way, it was helping him in the long run.

The Joker looked away from the door and laid down flat on his back, his eyes to the ceiling. He moved his hands to rest behind his head when he felt a dull aching pain on his right hand that was protesting against the weight of his head. He removed his hand to examine what was wrong. He found five little red half-moon crevices imprinted on his skin. Four were on one side of the back of his palm, while one was on the other side. The skin around the wounds was blushed a soft pink and was swelling slightly. The sight of his mild injury sent him into yet another fit of hysteria. So far, this woman has been one good laugh after another. She may just be one of the best toys he's ever had; second to Batman of course. He couldn't wait until he had the chance to play with her again.

AN: Hello everyone! Thank you for taking the time to read the first chapter of this story. I actually have another story published and still in progress right now but I was too excited to write this story that I couldn't wait until I finished the other to post this one. I'm not going to abandon the other story; I'm just going to work on writing both simultaneously.

This story was purposefully written in a completely different writing style because I wanted to exercise my writing abilities and give this story a completely different vibe than my other one has. For the most part, this story will be told from the Joker's perspective and I'm really looking forward to writing his interactions with Harley Quinn. As much as I love Harley Quinn origin stories, I decided that this one had to be different. In this story Harleen Quinzel had already transformed into the almighty villain that she is, and the Joker took no part in her transformation, which actually creates a great level of intrigue and mystery that draws him to her. This story is going to be so much fun to write and I can't wait to hear what you guys think, so please review! Lemme know if this is worth continuing.

Peace. :)