Author's Note:

So, I had a ton of extra time today! I decided to post three chapters today; originally it was going to be one solid, long one, but I decided to do a different route. If you couldn't tell; I write a ton, and it's my favorite hobby. This specific chapter is a little rocky on structure, but I promise the next two are very smooth and built well.

*Chapter Two*

"I'm Not in Love"

10cc

I'm not in love

So don't forget it

It's just a silly phase I'm going through

Harley tossed and turned in her bed. She was refusing the fact she was in love with J. She knew she was, deep down in her heart, but her? A physiatrist? And an insane, gangster, criminal? No; not possible. What happened during that appointment – it was a one-time thing. Yeah, she won't let that happen again. She turned so she was laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers adorned the plain white paint, put there by her friend Candace's daughter, before they moved all the way to Michigan. The blonde sighed, and shut her eyes. Memories of just hours ago replayed in her mind…

"I can be a good boy, Doc." He purred, leaning closer towards her. She could feel his warm breath on her face, bringing heat to her cold skin. He took his handcuffs off, Harleen didn't know how, but, quite frankly, she didn't care one bit.

"Your name just, it isn't right for such a beautiful creature like yourself. Harley Quinn sounds much, much better… so much more fitting for you," he tugged her hair, and leaned closer to her ear, and bit it lightly, his breath making butterflies flutter in her stomach. She let out a moan, "You'll be my little Harlequin."

…she shook her head, I have to stop, she thought, I don't love him, right? No; not possible. I don't even know the guy that well, love at first sight isn't a thing. She shut her eyes, a tear running down her face, as half of her doubted the feelings in her heart, and the other half realized she didn't have a chance with him anyway. Why try if he's just gonna use her as a bitch, and then throw her to the curb? She rolled her eyes at the thought. She wanted him, and she was going to have him...eventually.

J sat in the middle of his solitary cell, which he liked to call a dungeon, in a strait jacket. He was counting down the hours until he got to see Harley again. Not because he wanted to; no, he just wants to observe her, right? He's never had strong feelings for anyone, so why now? He jerked around, moving his arms in the little room he had in the tight jacket just to get a bit more comfortable. He decided he wanted to bring out the other side in Harleen, the one he deemed as Harley, the one he brought out in their first appointment, just to toy with it. See how she operated. He looked over, through the tiny glass window, and saw Geoffrey, a guy on his payroll.

"Boss," Geoffrey said in a really deep voice, "I've got the files on Harleen Quinzel that you asked for." He held up the orange folder to the window. J grunted.

"How do you expect me to go through them? I've got no access to my hands, dumbass. Give 'em to me once I get out of this jacket."

"Yes, sir." Geoffrey walked away, putting the file into his jacket. J rolled his eyes, and went back to thinking about Harleen. He reimagined her, wondering what she'd look like once his plans were completed. He laughed, a scary, loud laugh. A few minutes went by, and he decided to fall asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Get up, you pathetic excuse for a man," Joker opened his eyes, glaring at the person speaking to him. It was Penelope Abernathy, the secretary of Arkham Asylum, "It's been 24 hours. We'll get you out of this jacket, and then you'll have your appointment with Miss. Quinzel."

"Miss. Quinn." He murmured, silently correcting Penelope.

"Excuse me?" she said, as guards grabbed J by his arms. J was suddenly knocked out, everything shutting down.

About an hour later, J woke up. He was dizzy and confused, vision blurred. As he slowly returned to normal, he could make out a blonde woman at a desk typing on a laptop. He smiled, My little pumpkin – what a great thing to wake up to. His vision returned, and he looked around – it was her office, of course, but he glanced down to the table. A notepad and red pen sat on her side, waiting for her to write notes, and on his side, he was handcuffed to the table. He growled and rolled his eyes at the fact. "Oh, Harleeyyy…" he purred, his speech slurred as aftermath of the drugs he was given. She slowly closed the laptop and slid it into a drawer.

"Hello, Mr. Joker." She said in a firm voice. He put on a puzzled face, and his smile faded. She walked over and took a seat in her chair.

"What's with the sudden formalities, Doc?" He said softly, hiding a disappointed and angry tone.

"What happened during our last appointment was not appropriate. For now on, you'll address me as Dr. Quinzel, or Doc, and I will address you as Mr. J." She frowned.

"Whatever." He murmured, "I thought we had something Harleen."

"So, tell me, what drove you into crime?" she had totally ignored his remark.

"Don't ignore me Harleen." He growled, using a firm voice. She looked into his eyes; they were full of anger, and disappointment. He was disappointed that she'd try to just dismiss him, act as if he was just another patient.

"Answer the question."

"You bitch," he slid out of the cuffs, with his normal trick – one he's never told anyone – and walked over to her. He spun her chair to face her, and she shut her eyes and turned away. He slapped her, hard, on her cheek.

"P-Please just sit down and b-behave…" she cried out, desperate. She didn't realize until she saw the absolute fury in his eyes that she had fucked up, big time.

"What makes you think you're so fucking entitled to order me around?" he squeezed her thighs, digging his nails into her skin. He drew blood, not on purpose, but he did. The warm, red liquid caught on his fingers. She started sobbing.

"I-I'll call t-the..augh…" she winced, as he grabbed her chin, "…the guards…"

"You wouldn't dare." He growled, and he started choking her. She gasped for air, trying to pry his hand off her small neck. Unfortunately, she was too petite to fight him. Her vision was starting to blur, and her face was turning to a purple color. He let her go, and she was panting, sobbing, and trying to crawl away into a corner. He slowly walked over to her once she had curled up in the back corner of the office.

"P-Please Mistah J… I'm sorry…" she begged for forgiveness, she didn't want to die. Not here, not now. She was only 25, she had such a life ahead of her. He scooped her up, and then laid her flat down on the floor. He leaned down on top of her, their faces only inches apart. He grabbed her wrists and moved her arms above her head.

"It's fine." He purred. He was still filled with rage, but didn't want to hurt her more than he already had. Why do I feel bad? I shouldn't feel bad for her; I hurt people all the time, and I never show remorse… He shook off the confusing thought, and started kissing her neck, where bruises were appearing from his tight grip. He bit her lightly, his cold grill touching her warm skin. She arched her back and moaned, he had forgiven Harley so easily, she was so thankful; still sad, and confused, but thankful, happy from his touch. He loved her moans, they were music to his ears. He moved to the other bruise, and manipulated his tongue, she let out an even deeper, louder moan. Normally, Harley wouldn't react like this, but there was something special about this man, this gangster, this criminal.

He suddenly pulled away, planted a kiss on her forehead, and walked over to put his cuffs back on. He sat back down, watching Harley. She slowly got up, she had a fire going on down below; she wanted him so bad, it was physically painful. She sat down across from him. As soon as she sat down, a timer went off. Their appointment was over. Her door slammed open, and Buck gathered up Joker. He turned and smiled at Harley.

"What just happened?"