Chapter two

"Ah… Mm… Jack, oh my god…"

Jack Kerr groaned as his hips thrust between the soft thighs of his lover, his synapses imploding with every squeeze of her muscles, her nails digging into the thick flesh of his back. The couch in his office had seen more action than any other piece of furniture he'd ever known. Every day (or sometimes every few hours) a coy glance or a brush of fingers would evolve into a passionate, sweaty tryst of love making in one of their offices. Sometimes Harley would have her mouth wrapped around him under his desk, even as his boss came in to talk about patient updates.

She was so wet and hot around him that it hardly took him ten minutes to finish, but he always made sure that she came first in a ridiculous display of eye rolling and convulsing. She was on her way there now. "That's it, baby," He panted, shaking the sweat from his hairline. His fingers rapidly massaged the sensitive flesh of her clitoris and her leg kicked against his backside like a dog when he hit that one spot. "Come for Daddy…"

"I'm s— so close… Ohh!" He felt her soak him and it made his head fall forward in overwhelming pleasure. A few more thrusts and he would be done for. He slammed three… four…. Five more times into her twitching sex before he released his satisfaction deep inside. She whimpered, her dainty hands curling into his thick dark hair. He grunted, his eyes rolling back and shutting slowly as he shook and then collapsed on top of her. He was breathing hard into her ear, his chest swelling with every gasp. She felt so good that he couldn't bring himself to leave her.

A knock on the door broke him from his reverie and he cursed quietly, slowly propping himself up on the armrest and withdrawing from her. She exhaled as he pulled out, the pleasure still slowly ebbing. He reached down quickly and pulled his slacks up, buckling the belt as he shouted, "One moment!" He turned to Harley who was adjusting her own skirt and grabbing her underwear from the floor. "Behind the couch," He whispered. She nodded and ducked behind the back, kneeling down until she was smaller than it. Jack flipped the lock and opened the door after wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Jeremiah," He said pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"

"The meeting got rescheduled for 1:00. Do you have any appointments then or will you be able to attend?" Jack scratched the back of his neck and looked off into the distance before replying.

"My session with Mr. Wayne is around then…" The doctor released a small sigh and muttered, "I suppose Dr. Quinzel could cover for me. I'll just get into contact with her first." Behind the couch, Harley's mouth stretched into a wide grin and she bit her lip to keep from releasing her excitement.

Jeremiah smiled. "Wonderful. I'll see you in half an hour."

"Of course, Doctor." Jack waited for him to leave before shutting the door and then cleared his throat. Harley jumped up from behind the couch with a squeal. "I suppose you're excited?"

"I wasn't expecting you to allow me back in there this early," She said. "Thank you so much! I promise I won't disappoint you."

"No decisions are to be made while I'm not present. Just talk to him, don't infuriate the man, take notes and get out of there. I'm putting my trust in you, Harl."

"I know!" She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "You're the greatest. I'll do a great job, I swear!" She grabbed her jacket and flashed him a smile before leaving the office. Harley skipped her way down the hallway towards her own office, a giant smile on her face the whole time. It wasn't until she was halfway there that she heard the shouting. Immediately, her smile vanished into a look of concern and she pursed her lips. Not now… Not when she's in a good mood! It saddened her even further to know the truth of things. It was most likely Bruce. It always was. He was the worst patient in the asylum, his mind so warped from years and years of depression, anxiety, PTSD… She felt sorry for him but she also couldn't help but sigh in irritation. She quickly turned on her heel and headed towards the sounds. It seemed they were coming from the medical center and Harley hurriedly ran in to see, to no surprise, Bruce strapped to a gurney as Dr. Isley and Dr. Crane stood over him. He was practically foaming at the mouth, his eyes rabid and feral, and it saddened her to see because he was such a handsome man, or at least he could have been.

"Mr. Wayne! Miss Isley has to give you your medication or else you'll suffer from withdraw. Do you not remember what happened last week? All the vomiting?" Jonathan Crane said in his low, soothing voice. Bruce was having none of it.

"As long as your poison isn't in my system, I don't care what happens to me!"

"Just do it, Pamela," Jonathan muttered.

"I can't just do it, when he's squirming around like this! His vein is already hard enough to find, I'm not just going to stab him, Crane!"

"Let me do it," He ushered, holding out a hand.

"Don't you —"

"Hey!" Harley shouted. "What's going on?"

Both of the doctors looked up to meet eyes with Harley and she shrugged at them, asking them once more with her hands what the hell was happening. Even Bruce stopped struggling and looked at Harley, his tongue wiping some of the drool from his bottom lip. Pamela's eyes flickered down to Bruce and when she saw how still he had gotten, she eyed his skin and then pop! The needle was in. Bruce began to writhe and curse as she pressed down on the plunger and Harley sighed. "We're just giving Bruce his medication."

"No pills today?"

"He won't take them. We had to resort to other options."

"I understand. Bruce, how we doin' today?" Harley asked as she approached him. Isley was busy putting a cotton ball and tape over the small hole in his inner elbow.

"How do you think it's going?" He growled, his voice lowering to a husky pitch. She recognized this voice. It was the one he used when he was getting into character. Months ago, when he had first came to the asylum, Bruce had quickly developed the notion that all the doctors, the staff, everyone… Were all vicious criminals. In response to his hopeless feelings about the whole situation, he developed a persona. A persona that he believed could destroy all the criminals, and restore justice to Gotham city. He called himself… The Batman.

It was a strange concept that he had created but she had to give him marks for creativity. After all, all of their criminal aliases made perfect sense. Her, Harleen, was titled Harley Quinn, the harlequin girlfriend of the infamous clown prince of crime… Dr. Jack Kerr. The Joker. Dr. Pamela Isley, the botanist who had decided to use her skills to develop medications for mental health was known as Poison Ivy, a flora kinetic activist with the dream to destroy humanity. The other doctor, Dr. Jonathan Crane was a crazed scientist that played with the minds of the patients, inducing fear in them with his chemical solutions. The list went on and on. So far, the only person here who he had come to be comfortable with was another patient. Her name was Selina Kyle, a kleptomaniac who, in court, had been sentenced to rehabilitation at Arkham, versus jail. Bruce was only calm around Selina, referring to her as his Catwoman. Sometimes she even played along with him. Occasionally when Bruce was having his worse days, Jack would consult Selina's psychiatrist to let them sit in the recreation lounge together.

"Come on, Bruce. Let's go for a walk."

"I would rather die."

"Come on!" She said, raising her hands and saying, "Up, up, up!"

Bruce reluctantly stood up and allowed Harley to guide him out of the room and down the hallway. He shuffled uncomfortably because of the chains around his ankles but eventually they made their way down to the grounds. "You're going to have to give up this charade one day. You know that, don't you?"

"Mr. Wayne, it isn't a charade. I truly do want to help you. Now… There are some people here who don't care about you, but I promise that everything I have ever said and done is for your benefit. I want to rehabilitate you, and return you to your home. I know you must miss your… What is Alfred to you?"

Bruce gritted his teeth angrily. "My butler."

"I doubt that's all."

"If you hurt one hair on his head…"

"I don't want to hurt him, or you, or anyone for that matter. Would you like to go to the gardens or just walk outside?"

"Outside."

"Sure thing," Harley said and swiped her security badge by the door. Harley looped her arm with Bruce's as they strolled out into the warm spring day. The isolation of Arkham Island from the rest of Gotham City made it actually peaceful for once, allowing them to look past the pollution, the homeless, the crime. Harley did enjoy it here. She sighed quietly. "You know, Gotham would be such a beautiful place if it could be cleaned up. It would just take so —"

Bruce tightened his arm around Harley's bicep and yanked her around, slamming her into the bench beside them. They were currently behind a small patch of trees, hidden from sight, so even as Harley writhed, no one saw a thing. His head slammed down hard on her forehead and she groaned, her hairline swelling on impact and throbbing. She felt blood trickle down towards her eye and she squinted, throwing a hand up to claw at him. He was too quick. One more slam to the head and Harley collapsed, her head falling onto her shoulder and she closed her eyes in sleep.