Harleen snorted loudly and flailed her extremities, causing her to fling herself from the couch and onto the hard carpet with a thud. The noise that had woken her went silent for a moment only to twitter brightly again as the cell phone vibrated loudly and lit up on the kitchen table. The coat that had been laid over her, keeping her warm, now slipped onto the floor next to her and the chill of the room sent goosebumps spreading over her naked body. The ringing ceased then started again. She hazily stood up and scratched her head while she yawned and walked over to it, shivering slightly. The name 'Simon' danced on the screen of the smart phone and she picked it up to slide the green bar across face.
"Simon, hey" she answered.
"Hey, Harleen. Did I wake you up?"
"Uh, yeah, but it's ok" she replied, scooping the purple suit coat up from the floor and pulling it on. The fabric on the inside was a green silk that felt nice against her skin. She could smell him in it and wrapped it snuggly around her, grinning sleepily.
"I was just on my way to work. Do you still want me to pick you up so you can get your car?" he asked.
She glanced back into her bedroom to find an empty bed before answering, "Uh, yeah sure, that would be great. I'll just need a minute to…change." She had almost given away too much information, "I'll meet you downstairs."
"OK, I'll be there in about five."
She thanked him and slid the red bar to end the call as she searched the apartment; he was gone. She returned to the living room to retrieve the clothes she had worn the day before, picking up her white blouse to inspect the place where the buttons had once been.
"Guess I'm not wearing this", she smirked.
Last night had been even more passionate than their first and he had gotten frustrated with the buttons as he kissed her, finally ripping her shirt apart in the heat of the moment like one would read a trashy romance novel. It had made both of them laugh, but she had still scolded him for his impatience since new clothes were not a luxury she could afford to buy each time he lost his cool. She tossed the torn garment into the corner and walked over to the door in the short hallway between her bedroom and living room. She had always thought it was a ridiculous place for a walk-in closet, but that was the design of the apartment. She took down the first shirt she saw and pulled it over her head before grabbing a hoodie and doing the same. After throwing on some comfortable sweatpants she slipped her shoes on quickly and grabbed her keys and purse. She unlocked the front door and stepped out, turning back to lock it again when she suddenly realized she had the purple coat hanging over her forearm and jumped quickly back inside.
'Shit! Mind your surroundings you foolish girl!', her subconscious scolded, 'What if someone had seen? Not everyone runs around with a purple and green suit coat, ya know?'
She walked back and placed it on her bed, spreading it out meticulously and flattening the wrinkles with her palm. She stroked the silk lining with her fingertips and made sure the collar was turned under on its crease perfectly. She stood there for another moment staring down at it, but a knock at the door broke her mindless trance and she shook her head.
"Hey, sorry to rush you, but I don't wanna be late", Simon apologized after she opened the front door, "I saw you come out, but you went back inside. Did you forget something?"
"Oh, yeah I got it", she lied.
"What the hell happened to your eye?" he asked, grabbing her chin and turning her face into the sunlight.
"Oh, I uh, I think I must have banged it when I collapsed yesterday."
Fibs were definitely not her specialty, but perhaps her technique was improving; Simon seemed to have bought it. The drive to the Asylum was another silent and awkward one. Their brief relationship had been the same way. So had the sex; quiet, polite, and awkward. They had absolutely nothing in common besides the place they worked. Harleen sighed and pressed her folded hands between her knees.
"Sucks you have to work on a Saturday" she mentioned.
She hated small talk but the silence was deafening.
"It's not so bad", he responded, "Especially now that The Freak is missing. Not that I'm glad he's out there, and we have no idea where."
Her nostrils flared; there was that word again. She picked her cell phone up from her lap and pressed the display button. Her mind began to wander into a slew of questions: Where did he go when he left her apartment? And how did he manage not to be seen? And how the hell did he keep getting in and out of her place when it was locked up? He had always had a knack for that, it seemed; his cell, her office, her apartment, a high security prison…where was he? She looked at her phone again, not sure what she was looking for. She thought about the time he had called her at home to relay some bad news, or rub it in rather.
She had been sitting at her kitchen table, reading case notes and unable to sleep. The phone startled her when it rang noisily from her purse next to the door.
"Who the hell?" she asked out loud; it was almost midnight.
She fished for the phone and finally retrieved it from the messy bag, but the number was unknown. Normally she would refuse to answer, but she figured it would be too late for telemarketers and feared it might be an emergency.
"Quinzel", she answered in a professional tone.
"Miss me?" asked the low male voice on the other end, "My nose was itching…or is it that my ears were burning? I can never remember how the old saying goes."
Her heart began to beat wildly.
"Mr. Joker?" she whispered.
"I just wanted to call and see how you were taking the news", he sounded as though he was trying not to be heard.
"Mr. Joker, you promised", she reprimanded in a half whine.
"I'm still in my cell, never left. I'm a man of my word, Baby."
"Then how are you calling me? And how did you get my number?"
She was very aggravated with him. These games were not funny, but she knew he found them hilarious.
"Ms. Vale has some news for you", he remarked, avoiding her questions.
Her mind raced in slight panic.
'What has he done?'
She hurried over to her television and turned it on, changing the channel to the GCNN. Harleen's heart sank as she read the caption of the story that the anchorwoman was reporting:
Six Dead in Gruesome Murder-Suicide
The picture in the top right corner was a mug shot of her former patient, Clancy Steerman. The sound was muted, but the caption was all she needed. She lowered herself slowly onto the couch and stared at the screen in horror, still holding the phone to her ear.
She heard The Joker sigh before saying in feigned sympathy, "I hate to say 'I told you so', I really do. Now, technically he can't come back to the Asylum, having blown his brains all over the inside of that family's home after he murdered them, but I still feel like the terms we established constitute a win on my end, don't you?"
She couldn't speak. She couldn't think.
"I'll be looking forward to our next session, Dr. Quinzel", was the last thing she heard before the connection was cut.
"So, did you sleep alright?", Simon's voice broke through her thoughts.
Harleen looked up from her phone, "Huh? Oh, yeah."
They were pulling up toward the security gates where Simon slowed to a halt and flashed his I.D. badge to Cash.
"Hey, man", Simon greeted him.
"Mornin', Sy" he responded, leaning down to look across the car at Harleen, "Doctor." He gave Simon one of those secret male telepathic looks that suggested she had been with him all night, "Ya'll have a good day, now", he said and Simon drove through the gates as they opened.
'Perfect.'
The guard parked his car in the spot next to Harleen's and opened the door for her.
"Thanks again", she smiled at him and searched her purse for her keys, blowing her disheveled hair from her face as pieces fell into her vision.
"Harleen", he sounded nervous, "I really wanna talk to you about something."
"Yeah?" she asked without looking up.
He took the hand that was digging in her bag and held it in both of his. She knew instantly what was coming and suddenly wished she had never picked up the phone that morning.
"Can we just try again? I know how hard you work and I respect that. I don't care that you have to spend more time focusing on your career than hanging out with me, I just...I just wanna be with you. I've really missed you."
She looked up at him and he pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. She wanted to crawl under the car. How was it that the gentle touch of this amazingly sweet and incredibly handsome guy made her feel completely nothing, when the rough touch of a blood lusting criminal had made her entire body convulse with sheer pleasure only a few hours ago?
"Simon", she sighed, but she didn't know what to say to him.
He placed the hand that had brushed her hair onto her cheek, "Come on, Harleen. This place does something to people, it gets in their head. Don't you think that makes us connected in some way?"
She fought the look she wanted to give him; like he was an idiot.
'So, we need to be together because we're just two big ol' head cases?'
He placed his lips gently on hers, but she pulled away and he looked hurt.
"Harleen, this is silly, we're so compatible. Don't you remember all the fun we use to have?"
'No.'
She remembered being bored out of her mind and feared they would end up like one of those dull looking couples that silently hold each other's hand in line at the movies.
"And don't tell me you've forgotten…the other stuff, I know I haven't", he suggested slyly and tried to kiss her again.
"Simon, I just don't think I can handle intimacy right now. I'm sorry, I don't want to be mean or hurt your feelings, but I just…can't…right now."
'Shit. Don't end with that, it gives him hope.'
He looked so disappointed and she really did feel terrible. He removed his hand in defeat and looked at the ground.
"I really am sorry", she admitted.
"Sure. Yeah. Ok", he sounded aggravated.
"Now don't be like that, come on. I thought you said you were ok with just being friends for a while-"
"-Yeah, well, I guess I'm not" he cut her off angrily. She had never seen him angry. They stood in another awkward silence for a moment; seemed to be a common theme with him.
"I gotta go, I'm late", he muttered looking at his watch, "See you around, Dr. Quinzel."
He turned and walked with long angry strides to the front security doors while she stood and watched him enter the building.
"Well, that's just great", she said out loud to herself.
Harleen made a mental to-do list on the way home, number one being to get to the grocery store. She would need to check her account and make sure she had enough since payday wasn't until next week. She was getting really tired of living paycheck to paycheck. Luckily, her little blue Prius didn't use much gas and she lived close to work. She pulled it into her parking lot at the apartment and took a look in the mirror before getting out. There was a much defined black and blue bump on her left cheek bone and she winced as she poked at it. It was going to be an irritating task to lie to everyone at work for the next week. She turned the key in the lock to her front door and opened it, half expecting to see a grinning face staring back at her, but the room was empty. She threw her purse on the kitchen table and walked back to her bedroom, think how much she would love a nice hot shower. When she entered the room, she found that the neatly placed coat had been taken from her bed and replaced with a single red rose. She stared at it in disapproval for a moment, but finally gave into the temptation to grin and lift it to her face, closing her eyes…nice guys like Simon had never gotten her roses.
