Chapter 2

The Pleasant Way of Cheating

He woke with his cheek pressed to the cold floor. He felt stiff and sore all over and his tongue had this metallic taste of blood. A shadow was there, bending over him, shielding the bright electric lights which threatened to blind him.

"You know" the Joker spat, his voice hoarse and shaken by a raspy cough. "You've been cheating! You were not an expected hindrance in that game! You cannot just run around blocking the treats for people who are in a paper chase! That would put out all the fun!"

He then felt strong hands on his throat, he was pulled up and his laughter was caught off as the Batman's arms easily lifted him from the ground. He was hardly standing anymore, only his tiptoes were still touching the floor and there he was, face to face with those masked eyes, his nose almost touching Batman's. He felt like he was about to vomit.

"Now I am asking you once again," the Batman barked, "You've been there! You must have had a reason for your acts! Tell me what you did, tell me why, tell me your motives!"

The Joker pulled his lips into a slimy grin. "Motives?" He cocked his head to the side and his tongue flicked over his red-traced scars. "I thought I already told you," he continued, "I never have reasons or plans… I'm just always on a quest – on a quest for fun."

The Batman let out a furious groan before freeing the Joker from his tight grip. He threw him hard against the wall like a toy that hadn't kept its promises.

"We are not done yet" he hissed before disappearing and leaving the Joker behind in his bitter cell.

The Joker squinted his eyes. The bright light had caused tears to form and he desired to shield his eyes with his palms more than anything else. He only then realised that he wasn't able to move. He could barely sit upright. His arms were tightly crossed to his chest and tied together at his back. Straitjacket, no doubt. Goddamn straitjacket. Why did they put him in a f***ing straitjacket?! No matter why, he didn't like it. Not one bit. It smelled of old leather, of anaesthetic, of germicide and all that terrible stuff he unintentionally related to doctors and therapists and hospitals and psychiatry – and he didn't like it, no he did not just don't like it, he completely hated it and he clenched his teeth and wriggled and winded but it was hopeless. So he finally stopped wriggling and winding. He would only crunch his shirt.

He let out an exasperated sigh. The tight leather belts cut his back whenever he moved and everything whirled around him as if he was sitting in a very fast carrousel. He felt dizzy, out of balance, out of control. His arms were pinching his ribs and he felt like he couldn't breathe properly. And the longer he tried to even his breathing the harder it seemed to get.

The Joker staggered to his feet and he had a hard time trying to keep the room from wildly racing around right before his eyes. He felt so sick. He tripped and he almost fell. Only then he became aware of how helpless, how defenceless the straitjacket made him. Hell, anyone could knock him over and he would fall like a pawn in a chess game! And he couldn't even catch himself for his hands were tied back. Anyone could slap him and he couldn't slap back. Anyone could shoot him and he couldn't prevent it. He couldn't even kick properly for if he made one wrong move, he would lose his balance. He had been turned into a nothing.

The door creaked open and he could hear agitated voices floating in, interrupting and over-shouting each other, so that it was hardly possible to understand what they were fussing about. Didn't matter anyway. Eventually, a broad-shouldered officer stepped in, his shadow covering the Joker as he came nearer.

"Mr. Joker, your psychiatrist wishes to see you" he announced while taking his step backwards again in exactly the same way. His psychiatrist? Since when did he have something like that? And since when did they care to send him one? Didn't matter either.

But instead of the tall doctor he had expected to see, a lady stepped in, dressed in a red-stained laboratory coat (probably she had spilled some chemistries on it) carrying a clipboard. For some reason she wore dark shaded glasses and her hair was tied up in a messy blonde knot.

"Officers, please leave us for a moment" she claimed, her melodic voice was almost sounding strict.

The officers obeyed without a question. The Joker faced her as she stepped nearer, his face a blank white mask; without emotion, without reaction. Still, he stretched his legs and he rolled his dark eyes, seemingly alarmed. Something in a pocket of her coat jingled like a Christmas bell as she came to a halt just a few inches in front of him. As the Joker perked up, he could read her nametag. Hermione Lancaster. What an odd name. Odd and at the same time, it was so simple that it made his lips spread into a grin.

Then suddenly, the lady fell to her knees and reached out to touch him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Oh Puddin'!" she sniffed.

His hands were twitching. He was bonded. Bonded again and this time he couldn't free himself on his own. For this time he was even bonded and encagedand surrounded by unpleasant walls – all at once.

The Joker shoved her back with a growl but it seemed she wouldn't let him distract her. Giggling she pressed a kiss to his forehead and before he could smash his head against hers, she backed away again, squealing with obvious excitement.

"It's alright Mr. J, it's me!"

She snatched her shaded glasses from her face to reveal the mask she had traced around her eyes, pulling her red lips into a proud smile.

"Harley?"

She nodded. "Didn't I promise I'd come for you?"

The Joker's lips trembled with confusion. His mouth opened and closed, he clenched his fists even though they were still tied to his back in the straitjacket. Yes, she did promise him. She did promise him a lot of things.

"Oh Mr. J," she grimaced a pout, "Why didn't you listen to me? You could have spared yourself so much trouble."

"I am an agent of chaos, dear. I live for trouble!"

Harley shook her head. Blonde locks sprung in her eye corners and she shook them away again. She took the Joker's shoulders and her gaze was almost stern as she locked her blinking sapphires with his glimmering obsidians.

"But there you see where your path of chaos has brought you!" she wildly gesticulated around the room and when she met the Joker's look again, he had pursed his lips and his forehead was crinkled with bitter folds. She boldly kissed the wrinkles and squeezed his shoulders.

"Oh come on, Mr. J!" she teased and she gave him a soft punch.

The Joker lifted his brow. He escaped Harley's sapphires but rather let his eyes peek at the door. He could hear the voices from outside again, whispering suspicious. He could hear hands gripping the door handle, he could hear keys rattling.

"We better go…" Harley adjusted the glasses back on her face, she fumbled at one of her coat pockets and there the Joker could hear that bell-jingle again. "I already made sure that your escape will be calm and without further hindrances." She winced, only that the Joker didn't notice it. He was still facing the door, his eyelids were twitching as if he had difficulties to keep his concentration upright. Harley grabbed him by the shoulders and he let her pull him to his feet, still in this almost creepy silence. Without a word he let her put her arm around him, let her lead him towards the door.

Outside were officers. These smug faces, hair tied back neatly, some had moustaches, some were ridiculously well-shaved – it was nearly cliché. They were only staring, some were absentmindedly gripping their guns as if in fear the Joker could somehow rip his hands free of his straitjacket and snatch them away. He clenched his fists and he pulled a frown, returning their stares with a deadly glance.

"I will take the Joker to my office" Harley assigned, giving her voice the darkest tremolo she could manage. She pressed her clipboard to her chest and she lifted her head in an authoritative way. And finally, they let her pass. Some nodded, some just grumbled and stepped out of Miss Lancaster's way. It was easy. Almost too easy.

Together they passed through doors and halls and everyone else they had to pass, stepped out of their way and kept a certain distance, even though the Joker's hands were safely trapped in his straitjacket. It seemed they just wanted to make sure. The Joker liked that. He liked the shock in their eyes and he liked how they stepped out of his way. He just had to pull them a sneer and there they went, wetting their pants in fear. He giggled.

"What's so funny, Mr. J?" Harley finally asked, her voice was only a whisper. The Joker didn't respond. He kept staring people down and he kept walking beside Harley, letting her lead the way, letting her hold his arm and help him keep his balance. His steps were still unsteady and insecure and the white walls were still fading and stretching before his eyes. But the pale faces which stared at him in sheer terror were clear and they were all he needed to see – and they made him smile.

"We are almost out, Puddin'…" She held her clipboard high and she still greeted all the people they passed matter-of-factly with a short nod. The Joker just gave her a "Hmm" in return. "I told you I'd keep it quick and pleasant, didn't I?" She proudly pressed her face to the Joker's arm as they walked around another corner. Harley let her eyes trace the bright corridors and every now and then they passed someone who still got Harley's nod as a greeting. Doctors rushed by in their white overalls, some were carrying clipboards as Harley did.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't come earlier, Mr. J…," Harley muttered, her voice carried melancholy. "It must have been terrible for you with all those doctor-people…"

Harley furrowed her brows and pulled another pout. She sighed but she walked on. The Joker had never been the utterly overenthusiastic type. At some point she should really be used to his lacking reactions.

Eventually they reached the door. And this time, nobody was there to stop them. They would just slip outside, unnoticed. This time, it was the Joker's turn. This time, he was the lucky guy. And as they stepped out, he felt like this time, he had won the game.