-The Joker
Friday finally arrived, fifteen minutes into the last session of the week, and still not a word from the Joker.
Dr Quinzel was flustered. The desperation wore it's presence beneath the dark circles of her eyes. She didn't bother concealing it. She didn't need to. The Joker hadn't so much as glared in her direction.
The Joker kept his violet sullen eyes hidden from her, fixated upon one square, pale green, linoleum tile upon the floor. There was nothing distinct about this particular tile, yet he continued to rest his eyes on upon it. He hardly blinked. In fact, he didn't appear to be staring at the floor at all. He appeared to be looking through the floor, entranced in a self induced silent meditation.
He had not offered any explanation for his silence. He simply shut himself off in the middle of the third session of the week. Perhaps it was a game of some sort, but it was unlike even the Joker to play such a cruel game on Dr Quinzel. They had a rapport. At least she thought they did, or were starting to build one. She realized that once the last therapy session of the week was recorded, the fruitless weekly report would be due. As soon as Dr. Arkham reviewed the nearly empty therapy pages, Dr Quinzel could be reassigned to another case. The mere thought of starting over with some second rate criminal brought Dr Quinzel to tears the night before.
"Mr. Joker, you've made it quite clear that you are upset with me, yet you refuse to tell me why. I have given this behavior considerable thought and what I've concluded is that you simply don't trust me. Regardless of the reason why you feel I have wronged or betrayed you, if you trusted me, you would at least tell me what it was you think I have done or haven't done".
The Joker didn't blink. He didn't make a sound, but his ears were sharply tuned in. They were tuned in to everything she said, every sound she made, every sigh, every change in pitch, every scratch of her pen. He heard the despair in her voice and it troubled him.
The Joker was a master of emotional control. He en-slaved his every desire and put out every fire within himself that he did not will to burn on its own. He conquered his fears to the point where he was no longer afraid of anything. But he couldn't look at her. He refused to. Her warm blue eyes were beginning to speak to him in a language he longed to understand. He looked forward to the way he felt her visually embrace him, whenever he smiled. He was hardly playing pranks anymore. He wasn't telling fanciful yarns, or dancing on any of his usual stages. His thoughts were one dimensional. His thoughts were simple, and so was his conversation before sealing himself off. Even though he knew he could hide his mounting desire for Dr Quinzel, he couldn't hide if from himself, and so he kept his eyes and anything they might betray focused only on the floor.
"But I can understand why you don't trust me Mr. Joker. I mean, here you are in a straight jacket, strapped to that chair, and here I am within arm's reach of the panic alarm if you so much as maliciously leer at me. "
Without another word, Dr. Quinzel stood up, walked over, and began to untie the straps of the Joker's straight jacket and chair.
The Joker remained still and quiet, but his mind was screaming at him to react. How dare she? His heart was racing, skipping some beats and doubling others. Half of him wanted to kill her the moment his arms were freed just to show her that he was still as ruthless and dangerous as ever. But the other, larger half of him was stunned and peeked with curiosity to see where his beautiful doctor was going with all of this. Was she insane?
"There now, Mr. Joker. I think that about does it."
Once the last strap was untied, she pulled the straight jacket off and threw it on the floor right atop the very tile he was pretending to look at.
"If this is going to be our last therapy session together, if I have proven myself completely useless to you, then at least know that I trusted you. I'm sure I am the first doctor you've ever had, or ever will have that has dared allow you to be yourself around them."
She was right. No one else would have dared.
"And now Mr. Joker, I have nothing more to say to you. We have 45 minutes left together, and I prefer to spend it in silent reflection of why I ever chose this career and why I wasted my time and energy on a clown like you". She turned away to stare at her Doctorate degree that stood behind a pretty black frame etched in red matting above her desk. She wondered what good it was to her now.
The Joker stared at his straight jacket, crumpled on the floor. He let his arms slowly sink down to his sides. His arms ached to move away from the unnatural position they were just freed from. He would have let out a moan if he wasn't still lost in the ritual effort to remain completely silent.
He looked up at Dr Quinzel with a soft wrinkle in his brow that settled into a look of longing and compassion. She was gorgeous, more so now than ever. It was as if when his arms were freed he was allowed to see her in full view for the first time, in sharper clarity. For nearly 30 seconds she didn't realize that he was staring at her. She had given up any hope that he would react at all, and then she turned towards him.
She had a small well of tears in her eyes that blurred her vision until she blinked them away. She saw in his eyes that she had nothing to fear, no retaliatory rage of any kind. But she already knew that. Then she saw something else in his eyes, something new. She saw what he was hiding. He wanted her to see it, he wanted her to know. Her heart wound up in rapid beats until she could feel it rising to her throat. His heart felt as if it just starting beating the moment the last strap was unfastened. Neither of them spoke. They only regarded each other. They stared deep into each other's souls until it felt as if they had already started making love.
The Joker smiled, and Dr Quinzel blushed, but she didn't look away. He stood up from his chair, walked over, and picked his straight jacket up from the floor. He began to put it back on, and then sat back into his chair.
"A little help here Doc?"
She walked over and fastened the straps behind his back. She fastened them slowly and sensually. He felt her fingers brush against his skin through the thin fabric of his under shirt and he audibly sighed. He could smell her perfume. It was rapture. He inhaled her so deeply that the very motion almost lifted him back up from his seat.
She walked back over to her chair, sat down, crossed her sleek sexy legs, and confidently grabbed her pen and therapy report.
The Joker smiled on queue. "Did I ever tell you how I got these scars Doc?"
"Actually, I think you did Mr. J., but tell me again, and this time I'll write it down"