Authors Note: I know this chapter doesn't have enough Joker in it, but don't worry Mistah J will be the main focus next chapter. PLEASE REVIEW, it's what motivates me to keep writing.

Harley froze, the phrase The Joker had just uttered echoing in her head. 'Why did you bring me a hooker?' Did he seriously just say that?

"Hey, don't-" Doctor Leland began to say, her usually stoic face flushed with embarrassment and shock, but Harley stopped her. The shock had worn off, she really should have expected The Joker to say something like this; he wasn't exactly known for being polite after all.

"No, I am not a prostitute Mr. Joker; I'm a new psychiatrist working for Arkham. Nice to meet you." She said, looking at him straight on, trying to hide her embarrassment and nervousness.

The Joker stood up and walked over to her, bringing his face close to hers, then he smiled.

"Oops." He said, shrugging and laughing a little. Harley felt his laugh travel down her spine and it made her shiver.

"No problem." She said, her voice steady, despite the way her hands were shaking. He didn't miss her shivers, and he licked his lips.

"But I must say you are quite beautiful, you remind me of my mother." He said reaching up a gloved hand to touch her face. He was surprised when she didn't shy away from it; she just let him touch her, her blue eyes growing wide.

"What was she like?" she asked, her throat dry and her heart beating out of her chest. This was her chance, she had to let him get close so that he would trust her, maybe he would tell her something.

"Oh she was just like you," he murmured, licking his lips, "She cried a lot, sometimes she would just walk into the closet, lock it up behind her and start to scream. She would pretend that she wasn't sad to the neighbors and the family, but I knew," He paused, running his hand over Harley's cheek down to the corner of her mouth, "I didn't ever want to see that frown on her face again; I just wanted everyone to smile. So I went to the bathroom and grabbed a razor and I made these scars," he said running his other hand over the knotted scars on his face, "then, still bleeding, I went into her room where she was sleeping and gave her some matching ones. 'See now you'll always smile!' I said and she screamed and screamed. She killed herself after that; I guess she just couldn't live with a smile."

The joker had watched carefully the expressions that passed over the young woman's face, first came shock, then pity, then sadness, then shock again. For a shrink she was ridiculously easy to mess with. How fun.

After he finished his story he heard her gasp and he giggled, removing his hand from her face.

"Now now, don't be sad, she just didn't get the joke." He said, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her face. She felt drawn in by his eyes, by his voice. He knows something, she thought, something that nobody else does. How can he be so happy?

"That's quite enough Joker, Ms. Quinzel is a busy woman, she can't spend all day listening to your ramblings." Doctor Leland cut in, breaking the spell that the Joker had put her under.

"Um, right. Goodbye Mr. Joker." Harley said, taking a step back. The Joker looked at her, tilting his head to the side.

"Well aren't you going to at least tell me your name after I just told you something so personal," he said.

"What?" Harley said, blinking at him. She really hadn't told him her name? It had really slipped her mind, she had been so caught up in him, and she couldn't begin to think about herself.

"Oh, um, Harleen Quinzel. My name is Harleen Quinzel," she paused for a moment, looking down, away from his sharp eyes, "But you can call me Harley Quinn if you want."

There was silence, and then the Joker began to laugh. She had never heard anything like it; it was frightening and comforting at the same time and she got the feeling that it was the first honest laugh she had ever head. This was the first time she had ever heard someone laugh because they really found something funny. It was strangely intoxicating.

"You're a strange one, Harley Quinn. Come visit me sometime." He said, through his laughter.

Joan Leland grabbed her by the shoulder and said, "Come on Harley, let's go."

Harley reluctantly left, the Joker's laughter following her.

It was only after she arrived home that the full meaning of what the Joker had said hit her. How did he know that she cried all the time? How did he know that the stress ate her up sometimes and she would just go into the closet and scream? How did he know that almost all her smiles were fake?

She sunk into her couch and began to shiver, but no matter how many blankets she covered herself with the cold wouldn't go away, it penetrated her and laughed at her, making her shake and whimper with the stark honesty of it. How did he know? How did he know what nobody else could?

With a shaky hand she reached her hand up to cover her eyes, but in the darkness behind her eyes she saw his laughing face again. He was happy. He was free.

She shook her head violently, what was she talking about? He was crazy! He was just playing games with her; he just wanted to make her confused. She was the doctor and he was the patientand she would be the one to fix him, then she would publish a book and she'd have everything she ever wanted. Money, fame, a stable life.

But do you really want those things? A voice inside her whispered.

"Yes." She said out loud, trying to keep her voice steady, "Yes, I want that more than anything!"

She threw the covers off of her and stood up, running to the bathroom and leaning forward into the mirror to stare into the eyes of her reflection.

"He thinks he can play games with me, but I won't let him. I'll win! I always win!"

The next day Harley walked into Doctor Leland's office with new resolve. She would be the Joker's psychiatrist, his only psychiatrist.

"Is there something wrong Harely?" Joan said, looking up from her paper work to see the young Doctor standing in front of her desk.

"I would like to take on the Joker. Full time." She said.

Doctor Leland stared at her in shock. After the episode yesterday she didn't think that Harley would want to see the Joker again, she should've realized how incapable she is to deal with that kind of psychotic criminal. But Harley seemed even surer of herself than she was yesterday.

"I don't really think you're ready to take on the Joker ,"Joan replied carefully.

"How can I prove that I'm ready?" Harley said, ideas racing through her mind on how she could make this work in as short amount of time as possible.

"Well, if you can prove that you have a thorough knowledge of the patient himself, and if you can prove your worth as a therapist in your own right then I suppose there would be no problem with you becoming his psychiatrist." She said, but the longer she talked the less of a good idea it seemed for Harley to go anywhere near the Joker. But what can I do? Doctor Leland thought, she's already made up her mind.

"Thank you Joan. I'll prove my worth to you within the month, I promise."

With that said she left the older woman's office and went back to her own, but when she arrived she gasped at what she saw there.

Sitting on her desk was a bouquet of green roses with red stems. She slowly walked over to them, her heart beating fast and her palms growing sweaty.

She picked them up and smelled them. They smelled like normal roses, except for the strong scent of paint. Why are they painted this way? She wondered, and as she looked at them she noticed a small card attached, and with shaking hands and the butterflies from the day before fluttering in her stomach she read it.

'To the Ditz in fake glasses,

Not everything has to make sense. Life=chaos. Fix me if you can.

-J'

"How the hell did he know these were fake!?"