Thanks so much to SlytherinofGreenWellSprings, SunshinetheDinosaur, and Shyskyme for their reviews of the last chapter, and for everyone who favorited and followed the story. Hope you like this one :)


Harley arrived at work that morning feeling more positive than she had in a long time. The tongue in a box had been long forgotten, and all she could feel was excitement about her next session with Joker. Would he let her ask any actual questions this time? Would his 'game' change? The anticipation was killing her, and she actually arrived at work early for the first time since she started, deciding to try and write some notes in her office before the interview began. It couldn't hurt to be a little better prepared this time, right?

Harley was on her way to her office, when she heard her name. She paused, where had it come from? The door to her left, the one leading to the employee lounge, was ajar. Had it come from in there? She didn't want to eavesdrop, but she was sure she'd heard her name. Shamefully, Harley moved closer to the door, trying to hear the conversation inside. It seemed to be between two men. She thought she recognised one of the voices as a Doctor, Doctor Ford was it? The other voice was one she didn't know, so it must've been a guard.

"No, she's not dealing with him any more, she's Joker's primary now." Doctor Ford said.

"She is? Well shit!" The guard replied, sounding shocked. "She's braver than she looks, I thought she'd be out of this place in a month. Got that whole deer in the headlights feel about her."

"I know what you mean, from what I hear, she only just made the grade."

"Really? To be chosen as the clown's primary, you'd think she must really know her stuff?"

"I don't know. Working with him's like a punishment: no Doctor worth their title has ever got anything concrete out of him. Maybe they're just giving her the lost causes. Plus she's got a pretty face, you know Sharp's a sucker for that."

The guard chuckled. "You think that's why Joker chose her? When do you think was the last time he got any tail?"

"That guy? He's a freak, probably never even touched a woman."

"He must be a fuckin' tripod being up close with Quinzel every day. I know I would be!"

Both men laughed raucously. Harley couldn't bare to listen anymore. She stomped to her office and slammed the door behind her.

She didn't know what she was more mad about. Being spoken about as if she was a thing, or the way the two guards had insulted Joker. She knew she shouldn't care about that, it's not like he was her friend…

No, but he's my patient, and I have a professional interest in him. They don't know his case, they have no right. He's a good looking man, I bet he's been with plenty…And that's not the point, I'm not even mad about it, I'm just angry they were talking about me like that.

However, Harley couldn't clear the thoughts from her mind, and they were still buzzing around as she sat down at the table opposite Joker and hour later. There was a heavy storm forecast, and the heavy rain hammering down on the small window was the only sound in the room as Harley once again looked at a blank page of notes. She couldn't focus today, couldn't wing it like she did last time.

Joker was staring at her with a curious look on his face. "Very quiet today, Doctor Quinzel. Anything you'd like to talk about?"

Harley shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you. We should probably talk about you."

Joker rolled his eyes. "Me again? I'm flattered. But I'd like to learn more about you."

"You did me last time," Harley muttered.

"I should be so lucky," Joker grinned. Harley wanted to smile, but then her mind flickered back to the doctor and the guard, and what they had said. Was that all she was to Joker? A woman to amuse and excite him?

"Don't say things like that," she snapped. Joker looked momentarily confused, but before he could reply, Bowles and another guard came into the room. Harley stood up, "Mr Bowles, we're in the middle of a confidential therapy sess-"

"Sorry Doc," Bowles interrupted. "Warden's orders: all treatments cancelled today. This storm is getting worse, and all patients are going into lockdown." He grabbed Joker's straight jacket and roughly pulled him to his feet. "Come on handsome," he muttered. Joker said nothing, still regarding Harley intensely with his cold eyes. Harley broke his gaze, looking at her feet. She was embarrassed about how she had snapped at him, yet she still couldn't stop thinking about what those men had said.


Joker was wheeled away, and Harley headed back to her office. On the way she ran into he Warden. "Doctor Quinzel!" He sounded relieved to see her.

"Yes sir, is there something wrong?"

"This storm is getting worse by the minute, and almost half my staff have failed to come into work. I was wondering if you could oversea the lockdown of maximum security?"

"Me?" Harley was surprised, what, if anything, could she bring to the table here?

"It's just standard procedure to have a doctor present when we lockdown in case of an emergency," Sharp hurriedly explained, already walking her towards the doors. "There will be guards with you at all times. We don't foresee any problems. Thank you." And with that she was out of the doors of the mansion and standing in the pouring rain. Harley scowled at the closed doors. "My pleasure sir!" She groaned, her voice drowned out by the rumble of thunder. She looked at the penitentiary building, right across the grounds, braced herself, and ran as quickly as she could.


Harley arrived only moments later, but already soaked to the skin. Her heels were covered in mud, which had also spattered up her legs and onto her black pencil skirt. Her hair had escaped it's bun, and hung in wet tendrils down her back. She was sure her makeup would be smeared all over her face, but at that moment all she cared about was getting out of the rain.

She hurried along the corridor, quickly plaiting her hair and attempting to pat her face dry. She got through the first two checkpoints, and arrived at the final one leading into maximum security. Frank Bowles and another two male guards were standing by the doors.

"Doctor Quinzel?" Bowels sounded confused.

"The warden sent me," Harley explained. "Said you needed a doctor for lockdown?"

Bowles looked her up and down, as if he was still unsure whether or not she was a doctor. "Shall we get on?" Harley pressed, uncomfortably aware that her wet blouse was sticking to her skin.

"If you say so," Bowles sighed. He reached behind him, picking up a small handgun. He held it out to Harley. "Here."

Harley held her hands up. "Why would I need that?"

Bowles looked confused, "Hasn't Sharp explained the risks here?" When Harley shook her head he sighed. "We gotta lockdown max, that means going in and manually locking all the doors. Usually we rely on electrical locking systems, but if the storm cuts the power all the crazies get free. Trouble is, if the power's cut before we lock all the doors, and we're still down there…Let's just say we all need to be armed."

Harley swallowed, still not taking the weapon. "I've never fired a gun in my life."

"It's easy," Bowles shrugged. "Just point and shoot." He pressed the gun into her hand. "Just stay close to us. Sharp'll expect you to give each prisoner a quick once over, just check em' out through the glass while we lock the doors, make sure they're not likely to die unexpectedly before lockdown ends."

Harley nodded. Bowles unlocked the door to maximum security, and Harley followed the three men into the dingy corridor, holding the gun uncomfortably at her side.


Lockdown took longer than expected. The electronic locks were simple and efficient. To lock the doors manually involved three different keys in five different locks for each door. It didn't help that the guards had one set of keys between them, on a keychain containing at least twelve others. It took forever. Harley finished her first two patient assessments before the guards had even finished locking the cells, so she continued on down the hallway alone, eager to be done and out of there.

The next cell she reached belonged to Victor Zsasz, the patient Sarah had been treating. He had his back to her, and was muttering to himself in the corner. He wore his orange maximum security patient pants, but no shirt, and Harley could see the countless scars over his body: one for each person he'd killed.

"Hello Victor," Harley began. No response. "How are you feeling today?"

Still no response, but his muttering was getting louder. Harley stepped closer to the glass, trying to decipher the words.
"Sarah Cassidy Sarah Cassidy SarahCassidySarahCassidySarahCassidy-"

His speech became faster and faster, the words blending together. But she knew what he was saying now. "Doctor Cassidy isn't here right now," Harley said sternly. "I'm just checking in before the lockdown."

"They took her away from me."

"Doctor Cassidy didn't belong to you," Harley continued, noticing the hint of anger in her own voice. "And she hasn't been taken away, she simply has a few days off. I'm sure she will resume your treatment when she returns."

"She can't leave. I didn't get to transform her. Not yet. But I will. SarahCassidySarahCassi-"

Harley stepped back from the glass, shivering. No wonder Sarah was so afraid. Harley had spent less than two minutes with this man and already she wanted to escape.

He's fine. I don't need to talk to him anymore, she told herself. Continuing on down the hall. Joker was at the end, but she had a few more cells to go before she reached him. She was strangely looking forward to seeing him. After all, their session had been cut short, and he was far more enjoyable to talk to than the other patients down here.

She checked a few more patients, none of whom would speak to her coherently, but were well enough for her to feel comfortable moving on. The next cell of note belonged to
Jonathan Crane, or Scarecrow as she had come to discover he was also called. She knew the name, he had attempted to release a fear gas in Gotham City, and was only foiled at the last moment by the Batman.

"Mr Crane," Harley began when she'd reached his cell. He was sitting at his desk once again. He looked up at her, an expression of mild irritation on his face. "Doctor Crane."

"I apologise, my mistake. I'm just checking in on you before the lockdown. Are you alright?"

But Crane's answer was interrupted by a crack of thunder, and all the lights turning off at once. Harley might've screamed, or it might've been someone in a cell behind her, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that it was pitch black. Then there was the sound of bolts sliding across metal, and Harley knew the electronic locks had opened. She heard the sound of cell doors opening all around her, rusted metal scraping across the concrete floor. Suddenly the hall was lit with a dim red glow as the emergency lights came on, and Harley could see that Crane was no longer in his cell.

"Perhaps, Doctor Quinzel, you should be asking yourself that question?" The voice came from behind her. Harley spun around. Crane was grinning widely, stepping slowly towards her. "Don't be frightened Doctor. Not yet, anyway."

Gunfire and noise from down the hall. Harley looked over, and could see Bowles and the other two guards fighting to hold back some of the patients who had crowded around them. One of the guards had fired his gun into the air, and the three of them were backing up towards the doors, the prisoners moving closer too.

Harley wanted to cry out, to tell them she was still down here. But she was too afraid she might draw the other patients closer. How did she end up so far away? Then Bowles caught her eye, just as he and the other guards reached the door. Harley felt relief rush over her.

Until he did nothing.

The guards stepped through the door, hastily slamming it behind them. Several of the patients threw themselves against the doors, trying to get out. But now the others had noticed her, and she was trapped, alone, with the most dangerous patients in the whole facility.

"Now, my dear," came Crane's silky voice. "Now, is the time to feel afraid."

Harley turned, ready to run in the opposite direction, when she found herself face to face with Zzasz. He was grinning. "I'm going to peel your flesh from your bones," he whispered.

Harley's mouth was dry. Her heart was in her throat. What the Hell was she going to do?

Then it came to her, the gun!

Harley held up the weapon. "Don't come any closer!" She stammered, trying to sound like she wasn't afraid. She wasn't fooling anyone, and now more and more prisoners were approaching.

"I mean it!" Harley backed away, the gun shaking in her hands.

Zsasz was smiling, right at the front of the crowd. Crane stood back, just watching. Actually it looked like he was taking notes. A prisoner to her left was salivating heavily, watching her with bared teeth.

Harley stumbled back, trying to keep her eyes on all of them.

That's when she felt someone behind her. She spun around, raising the gun. She had walked right into Joker! There was a moment of relief, after all, she had spent hours in a room with this man. He was familiar to her, safe even?

But something was different. Without his straight jacket, without being sat down, without being strapped into a chair, he wasn't the same. Joker was tall, strong, and stared at her without even a trace of his usual grin. His eyes flicked from her, to the crowd of patients. Harley looked back at them. They were close, but had all stopped, and were watching Joker with seemingly the same apprehension she herself regarded him with.

Only Zsasz stepped forward. "Let me cut her, oh let me bite her. I need to taste her flesh."

Joker regarded her for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. As if he was contemplating this request. Harley pleaded with her eyes, begging him silently not to hand her over, even though she wasn't sure the alternative would be any safer. Finally he grabbed Harley roughly by the arm. "No." He said firmly. "This one's mine."

He pulled Harley away from the crowd, tossing her into his cell. She fell onto the cold floor, and crawled to the furthest corner from the door. She still had her gun, and she pointed it at the Joker as she sat with her back to the wall. He stood in the open doorway, watching her hungrily, then pulled it shut behind him.

None of the other patients tried to get in, despite Zsasz's howls of disappointment. It was just Joker and Harley in the small cell. Joker slid down, his back against the door.

He was grinning now.

"So, Doc, what do you want to talk about today?"