Harleen knew before entering the therapy room that he would have something to say about their last session. There would be questions and teasing while he tried to wear her down and reveal details of her personal life.
She had been largely successful in warding off the Joker's prying words and eyes as he tried to glimpse the woman behind her therapist façade. With him it was more difficult than any other patient she had worked with. To some extent a therapist will engage small details of their lives to relate with their patients to demonstrate that they had empathy toward them in a way to instill trust.
Trust is integral to the therapeutic process. If a patient can not trust their doctor, then they will resist treatment and progress will never be made.
With the Joker, Harleen had read, anyone who tried to engage the man was subjected to mind games and manipulation. More people had dropped the man as a patient before he could get too far, unlike the four unfortunate souls who had become his victims.
He was waiting with a smug look on his face, as usual, when she entered the room. His hazel eyes were lit with mischief and told Harleen that he had come up with another clever icebreaker.
"Ever notice how 'therapist' easily becomes 'the rapist'? Why do you suppose that is, Harley? Is that what you do, rape people's minds? You dig and penetrate to find that vulnerable piece and exploit it, asserting power over the victim (coughs) patient at hand." He said narrowing his eyes at her as he leaned back in his seat. It was a position he took when he thought he was in control of the situation.
"Jack had problems before he became the Joker." Edwards had told her six days before in his office. Harleen had not returned to Gotham empty-handed.
"By your definition you would make an excellent therapist." Harleen replied deadpan and then set her clipboard on the table as she sat down.
Joker narrowed his eyes and seemed to be gauging her reaction. Unhappy with her response he would invariably attack from a different point. Such were his rules of engagement.
"Did you enjoy your little trip?" He asked leering at her.
Leland had already told Harleen that the Joker knew she'd gone to Chicago. He'd prodded guards and orderlies at the first sign of her absence. She was sure it was because he was unhappy that she wasn't there after their last session. He'd probably been looking forward to further tormenting her while her wounds were still fresh. When he learned she wasn't at Arkham, Leland said he'd seemed deflated. Like a child whose favorite toy had been taken from him for reasons he did not understand. When he'd found out that she'd gone to Chicago, he'd beaten the guard's head into the wall fracturing his face in four places.
She blinked at him and then unclipped a college 'blue-book' from her board and slid it toward him.
"What is this?" He said in a low tone, not looking at her. He leaned forward and picked the thin booklet up and glanced at the front page before flipping through it, disinterested.
"A souvenir I picked up for you, I hope you like it," she fixed a mischievous smile on her face.
He looked up at her and his eyes penetrated her with a menacing glare. He slammed the book back down on the table and moved to stand. Harleen got to her feet and poised her hand over the 'panic button.' The mood was tense and the two stared at each other across the table waiting for the other to make a move. Jokers' eyes softened and he smiled in a way he thought was pleasant.
"Well thank you Harley. Why don't you come over here and I'll show you how much I appreciate it." He said mockingly. He snatched the booklet up from the table and it crunched up in his hand.
Harleen felt caught in his gaze like a deer in the headlights. She had known that his response to her 'gift' wouldn't be one of gratitude but she didn't know what to do next. She could push the button and the guards would come for him and he'd spend a week in solitary. Or she could step away and hope that he didn't kill her.
She took a settling breath and made her decision.
Her fingers curled into her palm and she moved her hand to her side as tears welled in her eyes. She forced a smile that was more like a wince and walked around the table toward him.
He remained still, his dark eyes following her around the table until she stood before him. Fear clenched like a fist in her stomach, she was still afraid of him. Like most citizens of Gotham, she had been stricken with fear by his actions a year before. She had been terrified with what had happened at Gotham General, something that had taken her a long time to work through. She'd been scared when he'd attacked her during their first session, but that had happened so quickly, it was over before she'd even been able to process what had happened. Her animal reflexes had taken hold and within minutes he'd been dragged from the room.
Even without his make-up, the expression he bore was terrifying. He was Joker and like an idiot she was walking right into his reach.
He laughed and dropped the booklet as he grabbed her and shoved her against the table. The edge caught her lower back with a sharp pain and she gasped as he shoved her down upon it and struck her across the face.
Then he placed both of his hands around her throat and began choking her.
He smiled without mirth as he did his work and moved with her movements to keep himself in her line of sight.
"Look at me!" He growled a few times as she tried to tear away his hands by gripping his wrists. Her legs flailed uselessly as he stood between them. Her struggle became less so and finally she just lay there as he relaxed his grip and she gasped.
Just like their first time.
Tears spilled out of Harleen's eyes as she raised a limp hand toward the Joker's face. He drew away slightly and then allowed her to touch him. She traced the scars on his face slightly before letting her hand drop back to her side.
"I wanted to know what they felt like." She said in a quiet voice and then she closed her eyes. Joker stood over her for a moment before grabbing her by her white lab coat and shoving her to the floor where she rolled to her knees and touched her throat.
Joker kicked her in the side and she collapsed to the ground, now crying. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to her feet as he pushed her back and then slammed her into the wall. Her head bounced violently and she cried out. He leaned close to her, shushing her before speaking to her in a low voice, murmuring in her ear.
"You've gone and opened Pandora's Box, Harley." He said quietly. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, her throat hurt.
"I closed it just as quickly," she whimpered as fresh tears spilled from her eyes. "You said I could never understand life as you knew it, that I wasn't smart enough. So I tried to find someone who was."
His breath was hot on her skin and she sank against the wall, out of his grip and he let her fall to the ground like a crumpled doll. She opened her eyes and looked up at him as he stared down, an amused expression changing his features. He began to laugh and this time it wasn't the angry growl it had been before.
He knelt and slid his arms around her and lifted her to her feet, holding her so that she couldn't quite stand. His hold tightened around her and her breath caught in her chest as if he would squeeze the life from her. There was no use in begging him off, she knew better.
"Did you find him, Harley?" He asked teasingly.
She slid her arms up his and around his neck, pulling herself up and easing some of his constriction. His eyes still shone with the kind of thrill he derived from causing pain in others. She pulled her arms tighter and laid her head against his shoulder.
Anyone walking in on them at that moment would have seen a lover's embrace. A man and a woman holding one another, gazing into each others eyes as they were drawn into a kiss.
This was not their reality.
"I found some words in a notebook and that card," she replied breathlessly tilting her head toward the table.
He turned his head and then carried her to the table and set her upon it, releasing her. She slumped over; her arms limp at her sides as she drew deep breaths. He grabbed her clipboard and pulled the playing card out from beneath the clasp.
The same card she'd seen him next to in the old photograph, before he ever had those scars.
A Joker card with the words "The Chaos Variable" scrawled across it.
"You were right," she said quietly. She looked up at his face and met his eyes. "Who you were isn't important because that man is never coming back." She stood gingerly and pulled the card from his fingers and held it up.
"This is what you are now. I get the joke." She said and forced a smiled and a laugh as she picked up the booklet and her clipboard. She looked back at him and at his expression, she began to really laugh.
She kept laughing as she left the room.