Chapter 2: Tingles


With only a cool, metal table to separate them, Harleen felt exceedingly vulnerable alone in the presence of Arkham Inmate 0801. She wasn't certain whether it was his presence that invited this feeling of helplessness or her own nerves at treating her first patient. Surely it couldn't be him; he was after all restrained in a strait jacket. And despite his supposed violent "Joker" profile, he made no attempt to struggle in his restraints.

Harleen had resolved before their first session that she would not refer to him as the "Joker" but seeing him up close, she could understand where the nickname came from. And yet there was something oddly enticing about his clownish appearance; something she would never admit to her co-workers. His eyes studied her in a way that should have made her uncomfortable but left her feeling strangely flattered instead.

"Hello," she spoke, mentally chiding herself for how tiny her voice sounded. "I'm Dr Harleen Quinzel."

He didn't respond and Harleen found herself wishing he would smile again. Her lips twitched in nervousness as she tried to offer him a smile of her own but his face remained impassive.

"I read your profile," she continued, her voice stronger now. "You've had many doctors. Did none of them appeal to you?" Still he remained silent, unblinking as he continued his analysis of her. She decided to try another approach.

"What should I call you?" She waited to see if he would take insult from such a question, inviting him to speak even if only to reprimand her. Reddman had mentioned to her privately that he took great pride in his carefully constructed image of the "Joker". She expected he might feel slighted if she feigned ignorance of his criminal persona.

There.

It was subtle but it was there; a brief flicker of annoyance crossed his features and Harleen felt a swell of triumph. He may choose not speak with her but she could discern enough from his expressions if she kept at it. "You know, it's only polite you tell me your name, seeing as how I've told you who I am."

"Why do you need a name?" he asked suddenly. "You know who I am. Everyone does."

He had surprised her by answering and Harleen found herself intrigued by the sound of his voice. She had expected it to sound more comical, perhaps even a bit delirious. Instead it resembled a deep, throaty purr but not unpleasant by any means. The sound caused an abrupt shiver to ripple down her spine.

"Then what's the harm?" she pressed, ignoring the peculiar feeling. "Come on, tell me your name."

"How about this? You tell me who you are and I'll let you give me a name."

Harleen frowned in confusion. "You- you want me to give you a name?"

"Once you tell me who you are," he reiterated.

"I already told you my name is Harleen Quinzel," she said, puzzled.

He clucked his tongue at her. "I thought doctors were supposed to be smart," he chided. "Your name isn't who you are. I want to know the woman behind Dr Harleen Quinzel. What makes her tick."

Her lips parted slightly but no sound came out. She blinked at him, unable to formulate a response.

His eyes lit up with a perverted realisation. "Unless you don't know who she is?"

Harleen immediately felt herself withdraw. She would not be sucked into this; she would not play this chess match with him. "Or I could just give you a name regardless," she said firmly, ignoring his jibe.

His smirk faded slightly as he seemed to consider her. "Yes, I suppose you could," he said thoughtfully.

His expression turned gleeful again and Harleen suspected she would soon get whiplash from his mood changes. "Well, Dr Quinzel?" He grinned, taunting her. "Whatcha gonna call me?"

"Well…" She bit her lip, shifting under the scrutiny of his intense blue eyes. None of the other doctors had even gotten this far, that much she knew. She decided to humour him despite the fact that her mind was drawing a blank under pressure. Yet he seemed to be in no hurry as she weighed her options. She considered addressing him by something unassuming or generic, but this seemed just as insulting as referring to him by his inmate number. She thought about how he had addressed her by her title of Dr, following the rules of social etiquette, and this gave her an idea. She followed his example.

"How about… Mister J?" she proposed uncertainly. She had offered the "J" as an obscure link to his "Joker" persona, hoping this would please him. The Mister was to be polite.

"Ohhhhhhhhh, I like it," he purred. "I do, Dr Quinzel."

His voice sent odd tingles down her spine again. "Good," she responded, clearing her throat as she shook off the intrusive shudder. "I'm glad."

Mister J grinned at her. "Do I make you nervous Dr?"

Harleen sat a little straighter. "No," she said stubbornly and his grin widened. "It's just that… you're my first."

"First?" he murmured, eyes widening in delight.

Harleen felt her cheeks heat up. "First patient," she stammered, blushing furiously. "Of course not my first…"

She promptly shut her mouth and stared at the clipboard in front of her so she wouldn't have to see his smirk.

"Lucky me." He chuckled at her evident embarrassment then grimaced slightly as he shifted in his chair.

Harleen frowned, her previous humiliation forgotten. "Are you alright, Mister J?"

"These restraints," he said, rolling his neck uncomfortably. "Make a person feel all… itchy."

She stared at the vest which kept his arms pinned to his body and subconsciously rotated her own wrists in a guilty gesture.

It did look rather uncomfortable.

"Maybe," she began, pursing her lips in contemplation. "Maybe after a few sessions, I can see about having those removed."

"Ya sure know how to sweet talk a guy," he said appreciatively. "Mmmm maybe then all these pesky tingles can stop."

Harleen stared at him, mouth agape. "Tingles?" she gulped.

His eyes twinkled mischievously… knowingly. "You wanna know something?" he murmured softly, leaning toward her.

"Yes?" Harleen unconsciously mimicked his motions and leaned closer, curious as to what he wanted to share with her.

His face split into that same predatory smile from when they had first locked eyes. She tingled everywhere.

"I think I've found a doctor who appeals to me," he whispered.

God help her.