It had been a week since Harley's interview at Arkham. The Joker was set to be released from solitary after murdering two guards and critically injuring a third. He would need a psych evaluation upon his release and Harley was already on her way to the therapy room for their first visit.
The sound of her black heels echoed down the silent halls only accompanied by the shuffle of the guard who escorted her.
"There'll be an armed guard with ya in the room, doc. Two more will be standing outside the door if anything goes wrong. But they got 'im wrapped up nice and tight for ya. He won't be givin' ya much trouble today.", the chubby guard assured her. She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye and spotted a dollop of jelly from a previously eaten donut in the corner of his mouth and identical jelly spots sprinkled all over his pale blue shirt. He slowed down as they approached the therapy room door sandwiched between two serious looking guards who were armed with pistols in their holsters.
"Watch yer self in there, doc. He tries ta get inside yer brain.", he said as he spun his index finger in a circle near his temple.
One of the guards typed in a code on the keypad above the door handle and she was allowed to enter.
The room was bright with fluorescent lighting and not at all welcoming. The walls were a yellowed white cinderblock. There were no windows. There was a wooden table in the middle of the room and two chairs on either side, both of which were bolted to the floor. Harley of course only noticed these things after she saw him. There he sat, chained to the chair. He wore a dirty straight jacket that was so tight, she was sure made it hard for him to breathe. However, she was most concerned with the leather muzzle covering his mouth. There were holes poked across allowing him to take breaths and speak, but it covered most of his face except for his brown eyes.
Harley swallowed thickly and gave a nod to the third armed guard in the corner of the room behind The Joker.
Although she couldn't see his mouth, she could see he was smiling by the way his eyes creased. She felt a shiver start at her shoulders and quickly work its way down her core. She pursed her lips and took a seat across the table from her husband. She placed her clipboard on her lap and felt the blood rush back to her fingertips after her grip was released.
The Joker sat silent, but eyed her up and down. The smile never left his eyes. All she could hear was his heavy breathing which was amplified by the cover over his mouth.
After giving herself one more moment to compose herself, she spoke. "Good afternoon, Mister Doe. I am your new psychiatrist, Doctor Quinzel. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The smile left his eyes and the sound of his breathing ceased. "You're my new doctor?", he asked, but it sounded more like a statement.
"I am."
He made a sound which could only be described as a purr and he relaxed as much as he was able under his restraints.
"Doctor, Doctor, give me the news...", he trailed off. "Well, you know the rest.", he shrugged.
She cleared her throat and knitted her eyebrows. After picking up her clipboard she pretended to read the questions she was supposed to ask during their evaluation, but her brain refused to read the words.
"I believe the first question is that you ask me my name.", he offered.
She blinked and met his stare. "Right, would you like to let me know your name, Mister Doe? Your real name?"
"Bob."
The guard in the corner frowned as he listened carefully.
"Bob?", she asked. This was ridiculous. If he was going to play games with her, she was going to have a very difficult time getting through to Jack.
"There a problem? I'm the sixth in a long history of Bobs, doctor. I don't see what's so funny."
She hadn't realized that she had begun to smile and was on the verge of giggles. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and looked back to her clipboard.
He smiled again. "Why don't you just call me what everyone else calls me?"
"I'm not calling you that. I'll call you Bob before I ever call you by that name."
"What do you want to, uh, call me, doc?"
He knew exactly what she wanted to call him. It was a name she knew she couldn't speak, at least not here with people around. He was teasing her.
"How about, J?", she said with a smug grin.
"How about Mister J, and you got yourself a deal."
She nearly snorted at the ridiculous notion of calling him something so formal.
"So what are you really doing here, Doctor Quinzel? Why are you here?", he asked with narrowed eyes.
"Well, I'm here to treat you, of course, Mister J. I think that there may be more to you than this persona. I think that there may have been a rational man under this exterior of mayhem and grease paint at some point."
He barked a laugh and tilted his head back. "That's an, uh, interesting theory, Doc, but not very original. Besides, what you see here has always been who I am."
Harley frowned. He couldn't really think that. She knew it wasn't true or else she would have never have been with him in the first place.
"I don't believe that." She shook her head and shifted in her seat.
He narrowed his eyes on her once more and leaned forward. "A predator does what it needs to gain the trust of its prey. It may lure its victims into a false sense of security, but in the end, a snake is still a snake and it's always been a snake, even if it seemed to be harmless at one point. It's all a part of the game."
The door's buzzer made an awful sound as it opened and a guard was suddenly next to Harley, offering a hand to escort her out. "Times up", the guard stated. She turned her gaze to the the man in uniform and took his hand as she stood from the chair. The moment their hands touched, The Joker growled and jolted quickly against his chains and three guns were instantly aimed at him. Harley quickly turned to face him again with shock painted across her face to see The Joker with anger pulsating from his body. The guard encouraged her to leave, but as she did, she couldn't resist looking back at her patient who she realized was still jealous over her even after all these years.