After two long days of following Arkham's rules to the letter and a bit of charm and subtle manipulation worked on his doctor (the poor fool was almost as malleable as Harleen Quinzel had been), the Joker was free of the isolation unit. It was dinner time, and he was absent-mindedly playing with the unappealing brown slop on the plate in front of him, watching the other inmates queue up for their food.

Harvey was flipping that coin of his to decide on potatoes or rice. Harley was stood at the back of the queue, chewing gum and scanning the room. She briefly caught his eye, and he gave her a grin and a little wave. She looked away quickly, and turned around slightly to avoid looking at him again. Joker's lips remained frozen in his ghastly grin, but really he was asking himself, What is Harley so afraid of?

Harley didn't seem to notice as people pushed in front of her. She just kept looking at the entrance with hopeful eyes, until at last a wide smile stretched across her face. It was Pam, of course. Joker's eyes narrowed as he watched her sidle up to Harley; their hands briefly closed around each other and Pam flashed him a smug smile, before kissing her cheek. His grin was now a sneer, and he found that his shaking fists had been clenched so tight he had bent his cutlery.

He rose from his seat, the uneaten meal still sitting on his tray. Harvey was sitting a couple of tables down from him. His coin had favoured potatoes this time, but he was clearly not enjoying them. Joker sat down opposite him.

"Hello, Harv," he said, his voice low. "I must thank you for getting those letters for me, but I'm afraid your work isn't quite over yet."

Harvey didn't even look at him as he replied, "We made a deal. I don't owe you a thing."

"Well..." Joker pretended to consider Harvey's words. "Deals can change, I'm afraid. If you don't help me, I'll make sure that if you ever get out of here, you'll wish you'd come out in a box. You know how much influence I have on the outside... Surely at least half of you is sensible enough to do as I ask?"

"You're lucky that half of me wants to get out early for good behaviour, because you're pushing your god-damn luck, Joker," snarled Harvey. "What do you want this time?"

"All I need is you to deliver a couple of letters for me. That's all." He grinned. "See now, Harv? It's barely a favour at all... Especially considering what you have to lose."

Harvey grunted his agreement, before picking up his tray and leaving the table before the Joker could provoke him any further.

Joker chuckled to himself loudly. Half the inmates turned to look at him, but he didn't notice. All he could think about was getting Harley away from Pammie's pheromones and back into his arms.

After acquiring some paper and a pen in his leisure hours, Joker returned early to his cell to make sure he had plenty of time to write. He had spent hours and hours in isolation studying Harley's script and style, and was confident in his ability to forge it. There were two hours before lights out in which to get to work; he sat on his bed, and knew immediately how to start.

Hey Red,

I've been doing a lot of thinking tonight... I've been awake the whole time actually. Tossing, turning and tossing and turning some more. It's enough to drive a gal crazy, and you know what's causing it? Seeing you around Arkham all the time. It's just too painful.

He paused to admire his work.

"No, no, that's not enough..."

He put the pen back to paper, fighting to keep a steady hand while he laughed.

I guess there's something else I've been wanting to talk about too. I still have feelings for my Puddin'. There, I said it. Every time I see him across the room looking all sad, my heart breaks a little bit more, and I feel guilty. I don't think anyone will ever love me like my Mistah J...

"I never knew how much fun this would be!"

Joker was reading and re-reading the letter in the same mocking voice he'd used to read Harley's real letter, but his own cruel words gave him far more satisfaction.

I'm sorry, Ivy, but I just don't think I can do this any more. I'll stay out of your way for a while if you'll stay out of mine.

Harley.

"Perfect! If only I could be there to see Pammie's face when she reads it..."

He folded the note carefully and hid it under his pillow. The next letter would present more of a challenge, but he knew from experience that Harley was a "throw a fit first, ask questions later" kind of girl. The poor bimbo probably wouldn't notice the handwriting was off until it was too late. Still, he thought he'd better keep it short and sweet.

Harley,

I don't think this is going to work any more. As lonely as it is in Arkham, I think we're better off spending some time apart.

Ivy.

He put this note with the other, ready to pass to Harvey tomorrow, and hid the pen and paper under his mattress. He rubbed his hands together with an excited grin and climbed into bed. Tomorrow, Harley... Tomorrow you're mine again.

Dinner time the following day had been just perfect, Joker thought as he got into bed for the night. It was everything he could have hoped for and then some. Harley had caused such a scene she was down in isolation. Silly girl should have known better than to throw her weight around like that, but it meant that she wouldn't see or talk to Pam again until he'd arranged their glorious escape. If Harley ever figured out who really wrote those letters, she'd be too far gone, twisted around his little finger, to leave. It was perfect.

Joker had made sure he was in the dining hall promptly, and chose a seat in the back corner, where he could see as much as possible. Harley was chewing gum again as she queued up, but her usual cheerfulness was gone. Her eyes were a little red and her eyebrows furrowed. She quietly got on with getting her tray of pasta, avoiding catching anyone's eye. Joker chuckled.

"Oh dear, Harley-girl, did someone make you mad?" he muttered under his breath.

She took her tray and placed it at the opposite side of the room, near the entrance, with her back to the Joker. She was mumbling to herself and moving the food around on her plate, but very little of it made it to her mouth.

Poison Ivy walked coolly past Harley's table to join the queue, and within seconds Harley's tray was clattering on the floor after bouncing off Ivy's head.

"Get away from me!"

Harley was yelling, and two guards rushed to restrain her.

Ivy blinked. "I should have known this would happen," she said with a sneer. She pushed her way back out of the dining hall and was escorted back to her cell.

Joker caught Harley's eye from across the room, and gave her a sly smile. She seemed to calm down for a moment, but then she tried to rip her arms free and the guards struggled to keep her contained. She struggled and kicked and even tried to bite one of them as they dragged her away to the isolation unit.

Joker threw his head back and cackled. Perfect, perfect, perfect!