Dr. Quinzel double checks herself in the mirror for the fifth and final time before heading out the door of her office. She makes sure her bun is tight and neatly pulled back, leaving only a few strands hanging around her face. Her eye liner is in a perfectly pointed wing and her lashes are curled just right. Her lips are painted a vibrant red, just the way he liked them. She pulls her jacket down, showing off just the right amount of cleavage to catch his attention, but not too much to violate dress code. Her skirt falls just above her knees and slowly creeps upward as she walks. She stumbles slightly in the heels she's wearing because she's never worn heels in her life until now.

The closer she gets to his door the more the excitement grows inside of her. She tells herself over and over that she's making a breakthrough with this patient. A few more sessions and she'll have completely removed his shell and he'll be an open book. Just a few more sessions.

She shows her name badge to the security guard at the door and takes a deep breath as he opens the door. Sitting there in front of her is her patient; The Joker. A smile spreads on his face as she approaches him and only grows once the door is closed and secured behind her.

"Afternoon, Mr. J," she greets him.

"Harleey," he purrs. "always a pleasure." She takes her spot across from him and over looks his face quickly, avoiding making eye contact. He has another cut on his cheek which she figures is from repeatedly hitting his head against the cement wall of his cell.

"How are you today, Mr. J?" she asks, opening the file in front of her to distract her from the oasis that is his eyes.

"I'm a little blue, doctor," he begins. "with a touch of green. Splashed with some red and orange with a few purple poka dots." He cackles.

"And what does that mean?" she sighs.

"I don't know, you're the doctor." She opens her mouth to speak again but is cut off by him. "I'm bored of this game; can't we play another?"

"This isn't a game, Mr. J."

"Oh why so serious, Harley?" she looks up at him as her name rolls off his tongue. She's caught by his eyes as he stares at her. "Life is a game, you know."

"Mr. J," she begins but loses her train of thought as he leans over the table towards her.

"Do me a favor, doll," he smiles sweetly at her and her heart is pounding so hard she thinks it might fly out of her chest.

"Yes, Mr. J?"

"Help me out of this jacket, would ya?" he fidgets a little in his seat, pulling against the restraints.

"You know I can't do that."

"I promise I won't bite… hard," he winks at her. Suddenly a light bulb turns on in her head as an idea sparks. She smiles and gets up, moving slowly around the table to him. His eyes are on her, every inch of her, moving from her face to her toes and back again.

"Alright, Mr. J," she begins, "ya wanna play a game?" His eyes widen in excitement.

"Oh, Harley, don't tease."

"Here's the deal, Mr. J," she says confidently as she stands behind him now. There are six buckles on his straitjacket. "I'll ask you a question, and for each one you answer honestly I'll undo one buckle." He chuckles in front of her and she worries for a moment that he will reject the idea.

"Well played, Doctor. Ask away." She hesitates for a moment, mostly because she didn't expect him to comply.

"Why do you kill people?" she asks. It's one of the first questions to pop into her head and honestly it seemed like a reasonable one. Far better than 'why are you so handsome for a mad man?'

"Oh, dollface, you're gonna have to ask better questions than that," he replies. "I'm insane, remember?" He had a point.

"Fine. What do you feel when you kill people?"

"Oh, Doctor. You've forgotten something." She sighs and undoes the bottom buckle of his jacket.

"I feel excitement. Like a junkie on a high or a dog in heat," he says slowly. "I feel…Alive." She's stunned momentarily by his honestly and remains silent. "That answer has got to be worth two buckles," he says.

"That's not the rule, Mr. J," she stands her ground and unclasps the next one.

"Why do you hate the Batman so much?" He giggles.

"Hate him?! Oh no, my dear! He's part of the game. One of the most important parts. I need a challenge. What is a chess game without black and white pieces?" A fair answer. Third buckle undone. She waits, her mind reeling with a thousand questions but she needs to narrow it down to three.

"The clock is ticking, Doctor," he says, "our session won't last forever." He is right, doesn't have time to overthink.

"Why haven't you killed me?" she finally asks.

"Hmm?"

"You've killed or seriously injured every doctor you've ever had. Every time you've been to Arkham you've broken out within the first week. Well we're on week three and I'm still breathing. Why?" She's moved to the side of him now to watch the amusement flash across his face.

"You amuse me, Doctor," he replies, a devilish grin spreading over him. "The way you try so hard to get me to talk, the way you've started doing your makeup, the shorter your skirts get every day. Yes, I've noticed, Harley. I notice everything," They remain still, neither speaking as they stare at each other.

"Don't forget the buckles, doctor," he speaks barely above a whisper. She lets out the breath she was holding for what seemed like an eternity and moves behind him. She's aware she's flirting with death as she undoes one, two, three buckles. The straitjacket slides from his shoulders as she moves in front of him again.

"Are you gonna kill me, Mr. J?" In a flash he stands, throwing his jacket away from him. He places his hands on the table on either side of her, pinning her between him and it. Their faces are inches apart and she stares anxiously at him. He seems to hesitate; he looks as though he's fighting some internal demons. She doesn't give him anymore time. She leans forward and crushes her lips to his.

He responds instantly with equal force. His hands find her hips and grip them hard enough to leave bruises as she slides slowly back onto the table. One of her hands finds it way around his neck and pulls him into her while the other tangles itself into his bright green hair. He is leaning completely over her now, feet still shackled to the floor and she's completely on top of the table, legs wrapped around his slender waist. One of his hands finds its way under her skirt as the other holds her chest steady against his.

A pounding on the door breaks them apart.

"Ten minutes, Doc!" the security guard shouts. With eyes wide she looks at the clock on the wall. How had two hours flown by so quickly? Suddenly the Joker is off of her, putting as much distance between the two of him as his chains will allow.

"Mr. J…" she doesn't know what to say. She watches him as he grips his hair in his hands and turns away from her. His shoulders move up and down as he steadies out his breathing. She slowly climbs from the table, pulling her skirt down to its proper place.

"No," he says, so quietly she almost doesn't hear him. He smooths out his hair and turns back to her, his usual grin gracing his face once more. "I ain't gonna kill ya, but I need ya to do me a favor."

"What is it, Mr. J?" she asks, her voice shaky. She doesn't even care what he asks her to do. In that moment she realizes she's screwed. She's screwed because she would do anything for this insane man. She was undeniably, irrevocably, insanely in love with him.

"Help me get out of here."

A/N: Hey everyone. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think. I was trying to make this almost a continuation off of the previous chapter and I was a little worried about being out of character so I'd appreciate the feedback. Thank you! Love.