"i'll stay here with my secrets.
until it fades to dust."

-hybrid, "choke"


She whistles sharply as she strolls back to her office, another successful session with the Joker. Her mannerisms are starting to mimmick his, he whistles classic rock. Today it was Paint It Black, she knew that one. And he smiled at her when she named it.

Her heart had been fluttering since then. Even when she reaches her office and notices the door is slightly ajar. Thinking nothing of it Harley slips inside her office and that's when it happens.

Her body has been forced against the hard oak, hand around her throat she makes a small peep, she shouldn't have done that because he's clamping down on her delicate little throat, cutting off her air. She can't breathe, and she's panicking.

"...Jo...ker?" She chokes, this isn't his kind of game. She kicks at the figure whose choking her. As she struggles he comes closer, frame against hers. Its not her Pudding. He's stringier then Joker, he's also shorter then him. Whatever composure Harley had is gone and she's fighting as hard as she can.

"Dr. Quinzel if you don't calm down I'm going to have to sedate you. You don't want that do you?" Lights flickering on she saw him and she was growling when she saw him. Crane. Harley again started fighting, kicking at whatever she could find. She kicked him in the legs and tried for the groin, but the lack of oxygen was too much.

" I must admit Dr. Quinzel, I hate what you've done to the place. Red and Black? The colors of anarchy. Are you an anarchist Harleen?"

She stared at him, even if her lips were turning blue. Now she looked at him like he was talking a different language. Harleen, she wasn't Harleen, she was Harley.

"Tell me what you're afraid of . . .Harley." Crane was laughing now, skeletal in body he was scaring her, at this moment she was afraid of him. But she didn't speak, she knew he was talking to her now, he was talking to Harley. He knew that Joker called her Harley.

She refuses to answer him though, she can't breathe, she feels herself starting to pass out, she feels it start to go black. Is he going to choke her to death? She can't tell, she can't let it happen. She tries to remain calm, and it seems like some kind of reprieve, Crane releases her throat and she pants, she breathes.

It was a mistake, as she breathed in the fear toxin is brought into her lungs, and she's once again not breathing. She's overtaken with fear, her visions haunting her. Its goes dark again, and she can't breathe.

----

"Where is Harley..." He croaks, he doesn't like the doctor sitting in front of him. Female, it was almost like someone thought that if they threw a pair of tits in front of him he'd respond like he does for Harley.

"Dr. Quinzel is on medical leave."

The stale doctor doesn't even flinch when she tells Joker that Harley is gone. Medical leave, that term is used for something like...he gets it now. There's been rumors that a doctor had been attacked. Of course he'd been blamed for it in the rec room gossip, but for once, he's actually innocent. He had figured that he'd squeeze the details out of his little Harlequin. But there was no Harley.

Just then the realization hits, and he flies off the handle. "Who was it?" He growls, voice oozing with venom in that low glutteral tone. "Who attacked her?"

He knows he's right, because the stale doctor isn't so stale anymore, she's staring at her, scared. She's faced with a conflict of interest, and she's trying to hide it. Joker knows her, yes, he knows her. She's Leland, Joan Leland. Harley's friend, she got Harley her job here. She's refusing to talk, if she's Harley's friend then she'd tell him. And now he knows, it was Crane.

Leland sits there, sits where Harley sits. But she's not staring at him sweetly, no adoring look, no pretty blue eyes. She's not Harley and he doesn't like that. His mind is bogged now, deep in making new plans.

Pushing himself up from the chair he stands, towering over her like he does over almost everyone. "We're done here. I only talk to my doctor."

"Patient John Doe!"

Leland starts and now he growls, he hates that name. He's Joker, Harley would know that. "Liiiisten here Joanie." He quirks a brow, he knows who she is and that scares her. "I want my doctor and if she's not here next week, then there will another doctor on medical leave. Got it?"

---

The threat against Leland hadn't gone unnoticed, but Joker did little to care, the look in his eyes showed he was a rouge beast. A wild animal. Harley is his ticket out of here, a golden ticket. And he'll be sure to keep her safe and sound until she's ready to let the clown out of the box.

Sitting in his cell he hears the almost giddy laughter of an insane man. Of Crane. The mess streaks of blonde and brown hide Joker's face, the green is almost gone completely. The curled geasy mess hides him. It hides the menacing and planning. It also hides the intense stare he's giving Crane.

Crane, he seems content to make Harley's life a living hell. Which he doesn't like, not because he has any real feelings for the blonde ditz but because she's Joker's ticket out of here. He needs to protect her, he needs her to not be victim to Crane's fear toxin. He needs her here. He's growling again, feral, he's a lone wolf again.

"Craanne." He whines, almost like he's in pain, he wants the doctors attention. A part of him is still amazed that they haven't moved him. Of course why would they? The Joker doesn't care about anything. His doctor getting attacked shouldn't have frazzled him as much has it had.

The frail former doctor stands walking closer to him, he grins, he knows his little adventure has upset Joker. But he can't figure out why, could this killer actually have feelings for that little blonde hussy?

"Craaaane. My doctor is on medical leave, wanna be my doctor for tonight?" He licks at bare lips that used to be red with lipstick, sometimes his, sometimes Harley's. He knows that Crane wouldn't miss a chance to analyze the Joker. Who wouldn't? He's aware of his celebrity status.

"Why don't you ask me what I'm afraid of?"

"Oh, you'd like the same treatment your little Harlequin got? Well if you insist."

Joker feels a pang of something against his gut, and his face pushes against the bars, a wave of emotion as Crane stands. Joker not looking at him as he speaks, almost as if he's ashamed, but he's drawing him in.

"Tell me Joker what are you afraid of?" Crane asks and Joker knows the dust is coming, taking in a breath of clean air, he huffs as Crane blows, forcing it to enter in Crane's lungs. Joker saids nothing as Scarecrow screams, Joker's just stares at him, a demented clown how haunting Crane's dreams.

---

Next week Joker is lead into the room that he and Harley often share, where he tells her stories that make her giggle and laugh. He knows that Harley isn't going to be here, not today. It'll be another doctor, maybe even Arkham self. The fat bastard.

Handcuff the Guards don't say much to him, don't bate him like they normally do. In their minds it was some kind of sick justice Joker took on Crane, Arkham's employees think of themselves as family. Or maybe they're just scared because they didn't protect Harley, they didn't catch that Crane was missing. "Be good Clown.", is the only thing they say to him, as they open the door and shove him forward.

There is already someone in the room and this person does little to care about the violence they show him. Joker stares, muddy brown eyes staring trying to find the face of the person he'll soon be sitting across from. "Who are you?" He asks, nasally tone worst then normal, he puffs up trying to scare the new doctor away.

"Hi Puddin'."

That's when he sees her, big baby blue eyes staring up at him, puppy dogish. Harley. She looks lifeless, drained, weak, he knows she shouldn't be here. He can feel that same pang in his gut, the same one that showed itself as he attacked Scarecrow. He doesn't say anything, he simply sits down on the chair across from her. Blonde hair looks limp and not as tuggable as it once was, she looks fragile, for the first time he understands just how breakable she is physically.

That tongue lashes against his lips, nervous habit, and that's what he is nervous. Afraid that his plan is gonna fall to pieces at any moment. This kind of thing is the stuff that gets you transferred to Metropolis, since he blew up Gotham General. He breathes in deeply trying to find the familiar smell he's grown to love. Cotton Candy, what kind of woman wears Cotton Candy body lotion? He asked one night, another late night session, his Harlequin did, his little doll. But he doesn't smell it, she smells sterile, he breathes in a hospital smell.

"So what did you see?" He asks her, it was a mistake because Harley flinches visibly but doesn't move her sight from him. She was depersate to look at him. She doesn't speak she just stares at him. And he knows not to say anything, if anyone is going to damage Harley's mind, he'll be him. Not Scarecrow.

---

It'd been months since the pair had broken out from Arkham, now it was a return visit. Harley dressed in the same stuffy doctors outfit they broke out in, but her face painted, her face is now the true face. Joker completing her transformation.

Arkham was now his Kingdom, having broken out patients and forcing the doctors to go into hiding. He sits in the same room they always sat in, in his normal spot. Harley on the otherside of him, no longer a doctor but his right hand in all this chaos.

He's done everything to her at this point. Warped and twisted her little mind, she worshipped him now, and he was quite fond of his portable hostage, his little errand girl, his doll.

"It was you." She speaks, she normally only speaks to him in private, and this is as private as they're going to get.

He stares at her, sure it was him for a lot of things but it was random outbrust, and he can't piece it together.

"When Scarecrow attacked me. You asked me what I saw." She pauses biting down on her ebon lip. "It wasn't what I saw, but what I didn't see, I didn't see you. I lost you."

Again he feels that pang of something in his stomach, in his chest. It makes him want to grab his knife and stab it out of himself. He knows how, what it is. Standing he breathes her in, cotton candy filling his nostroils as he speaks. "Harley ---- Harley --- Harleey. You know I'll be the last thing you ever see. Isn't that right Doll?"

He means it, if he has his way, it'll be his hand that does in his Harlequin. Its meant as a threat, and even he's amazed when Harley starts smiling.