Carlo's twenty-first birthday was just what Jack had expected: loud with people pretending to like each other, and Carlo's inebriated buddies shoving bottles of beer down the birthday boy's throat. Jack stayed planted on the seat of his adoptive aunt's sofa, his glass of soda now warm as he clutched it tightly. He stared at it as the condensation on the glass left a perfect circle on his dark jeans.

Carlo was a different person around his friends. He never paid any attention to the latchkey kid that was brought into the family. At home, he and Carlo would stay awake and talk, mostly of whatever girl Carlo was interested in that week.

"Man..." he would whisper as he lay with his hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling. "Annette's jugs are outta this world! You should see 'em, Jacky...they're like watermelons!"

Jack would try to suppress a loud chuckle, replying, "They can't be that great then...how the hell can she stand up if they're that big?"

Carlo would snicker. "She doesn't need to stand up for me..."

Jack would suddenly guffaw, making Carlo follow suit. "Shh!" Jack warned. "You're gonna wake Ma."

"I can't wait to be outta here. The restaurant ain't no place for me. I'm gonna go to Metropolis...gonna go to business school..."

"What kinda business?" asked Jack, turning onto his side to look at his brother from across the room.

Carlo turned as well. "I don't know yet. Maybe I'll figure it out along the way." He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "What about you, Jack? What are you gonna do?"

Jack shrugged. "Ma wants me to go to college."

"I asked what you wanted, man...forget Ma. What does Jack wanna do?"

Jack came out of his memory and returned his attention to the party when his aunt took a seat next to him. "You're gonna miss your brother, huh, kiddo?" she asked, patting a comforting hand on his knee.

He grinned. "Yeah, I guess," he mumbled, setting his warm drink on the coffee table and wiped off the mark on his jeans.

"Then go outside and tell him that," she insisted.

Jack rubbed his neck. "I don't know, Aunt Gina. I don't think he wants me around right now."

"Oh, you're such a downer! Now, get up!" Before he could protest, Jack was suddenly hoisted off the sofa by her forceful hand. "They're out on the lanai. Just pop out there and try to mingle!"

Jack sneered, but forced himself to step past the sliding glass door and out of his aunt's death grip. He closed the door and stared out into the dark backyard, a single fire burning from a large pit in the far corner of the yard. He gulped and made his way toward the steps that led onto the grass, but stopped on the last one and sat down. He watched the silhouettes of Carlo and his friends as they laughed heartily and chugged cheap beer.

He leaned onto his knees and sighed as he scraped the step with his shoe. He knew they were already drunk, so if he were to go over there and try to talk to Carlo he would be blocked by his bands of Stooges. So he just cracked his knuckles and gazed into the night, until Carlo noticed him.

"Hey!" he yelled, rather loudly. "Hey, Jacky Man! Get your ass over here and join the party!"

Jack grinned and nervously walked over to the fire where Carlo's friends began the customary staring. He was used to their eyes on him, or anyone else's, for that matter. He had accepted that he couldn't hide his damaged side like everyone else, and he allowed the eyes of strangers and even family to look at him.

"Where you been, Jack?" Carlo asked, his voice slurred.

"Nowhere," Jack mumbled.

"Then have a beer, Nowhere Man," said Barry, one of Carlo's friends. He tossed a can to Jack, but Carlo took it from him.

"No way, Bare!" he demanded. "Jacky's gotta be our D.D." This announcement made his friends leer and chuckle slyly, but Jack was confused.

"Your...D.D.?" he asked his brother.

Carlo chuckled as he took a swig of beer. "Our Designated...Driver..."

"Dude! I'm not taking you guys anywhere!" Jack instantly protested.

"Come on, Jack," Carlo said. "We all got dates...we gotta go see 'em...I'll getcha one, too, bro."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "A date? Where?"

Carlo chuckled again and whispered in Jack's ear. "Babe's Cabaret..." His friends leered again as Jack's eyes grew wide.

"Ma's gonna be lookin' for us, man," he warned.

"I'll handle Ma...you go warm up the car..."

The Joker awoke late in the night to his right hand shaking once again. "Shit..." he whispered to himself as he raised up and walked to the sink. He splashed cold water on his face as he took deep breaths. "Come on, come on, man...get a grip...get a fucking grip!" he growled, his voice echoing off the glass of his cell.

His medicine was brought to him an hour later than usual, maybe that was why this was hitting him so hard. Then again, maybe the medicine wasn't working, just like he had told Dr. Quinzel.

He laughed. The good doctor had been acting strangely today, as if something spooked her and made her more cautious than usual. However, she did get up some kind of nerve to sit beside him...even touch him.

That was something he couldn't figure out. What was she playing?

Still, he had to admit...the move impressed him...and the impression moved him.

His hand began to pulse harshly when he realized that she had revealed a hint of her true self to him. Her professional intonation was just that...professional. Suddenly, a part of him wanted to dig up that hidden treasure again, that higher pitch of voice and that inner city drawl of her tongue.

That stiletto really hurt, though. His stomach was still sore, but the pain was now pleasurable to him as he smiled, remembering her quick reflex to his attack. He hadn't planned on hurting her...not too much anyway. Just enough to remind her that he, too, had boundaries that needn't be crossed, much like that pathetic yellow line in front of her couch.

Of course, in his experience, some women didn't reciprocate that understanding. She had kept pressing him about his father, but he was to blame for that, as well. He wanted to hear her stories, too, but it meant that he had to tell stories of his own, and he didn't care if she didn't believe him or not.

The Joker groaned louder as he dropped to his knees as he felt sharp tingles going up and down his arm. He gripped his right hand as he felt beads of sweat emerge onto his brow.

"Fuckin' women..." he panted as he tried to keep the sick in his throat from escaping.

Jack had indeed driven Carlo and his friends to the cabaret bar, and the thumping bass in the club was pulsating in his neck, just like the nervous rhythm of his heartbeat as he watched the girl on the stage, Carlo's arm around him. He had sneaked a few beers to Jack and he was now gripping his fourth bottle tightly, the cold of it moving through his arm and to the pit of his gut.

He licked his lips as his bleary eyes watched the girl dancing topless in front of him. He had seen nude women before in the magazines that Carlo hid in their room, and he was guilty of taking pleasure in those images. But this was the real deal...he knew that Carlo's friends wanted to give their pal a good send-off, and Babe's was the way to go.

Barry and Ted raised their glasses of beer high above their heads as the woman suddenly knelt down in front of Carlo and ruffled his hair with her fingers. The birthday boy laughed as Jack smiled, amusedly. He had to admit that he was having a good time, but he would turn his face away if the woman came too close.

Carlo noticed this and, as soon as the girl walked away, said over the music, "You wanna meet her?"

Jack's wide eyes met his brother's sneaky grin and he bit his lip as he shook his head.

"What are you? A queer?" asked Ted brashly through his alcohol.

"No way, man!" Jack insisted. "I just...I..."

"Hey!" Carlo said. "These girls get paid to do anything...to anyone...capisce?"

Jack smirked and looked up at the girl and said, "You know her?"

"Nah...but I know the owner of the club, man! Come on!" Carlo helped Jack out of his chair, also using his little brother's arm as leverage for himself. He led him toward a curtain by the stage door where they met a large bouncer. "Hey! Hey, pally!" Carlo said to the disgruntled bouncer. "I wanna see Dante!"

"You got an appointment, kid?" the bounce yelled back over the music.

"No, but...my baby brother here does...come on! Dante knows I'm here; just go get him, huh?"

The bouncer hesitated but went behind the curtain. Minutes later, a man in a black three piece suit emerged, smiling and smoking a cigar. "Hey there, birthday boy!" he said as he fervently shook Carlo's hand.

Jack didn't show his shock, but he recognized this well-manicured owner: Dante Azzarello. He was head of a growing family of drug smugglers and gambling racketeers. He glimpsed at Jack and his smile faded. "Jesus, kid. What happened to you?"

"Dante...this is my brother...Jack..." Carlo said with intoxicated pride that Jack couldn't quite read.

Azzarello's smile reappeared. "Hey, yeah! How you doin', kid? Carlo's told me about you..."

Jack grinned and replied, sarcastically, "He obviously didn't tell you everything, huh?"

Azzarello caught the tone and nodded at the boy, saying, "You got balls, kid. I like that. So, what can I do for you, Carlo?"

The loud pounding of an intrusive fist reverberated against the glass of The Joker's cell. "Hey, clown!" came Bobby's voice. "You okay in there?"

The Joker was now lying flat on his back, grimacing at the ceiling as he still gripped his hand. Bobby could see the twitching in his arm and motioned for Sly to join his side. "Hey...Joker! Answer me, huh?"

The Joker could hear them perfectly, but he felt that if he spoke to them that the sick would leave his throat and have his esophagus burning for the rest of the night. All he could do was moan as the throbbing in his arm now traveled to his shoulder.

Sly nervously looked at Bobby. "Should we...take him to the med ward?"

Bobby hesitated. "I don't know...he might be fakin' it..."

"What's going on?" came a meek voice beside them. They turned and saw Harleen standing with her raincoat over her arm and her valise at her side. "Is something so interesting that you have to..." She walked over to the glass and dropped her belongings when she saw her patient groaning on the floor. "Oh my God! What's happening?"

She turned to them for answers, but they had none, which made her even angrier. "Well, don't just stand there! Get him! He may be having a seizure!"

The sudden shriek in her voice made the orderlies jump to comply and The Joker's eyes opened wide when he heard that sultry drawl that his doctor had let slip earlier that day. He closed them again as he tried to smile, but a string of saliva crept out of the scarred corner of his mouth.

"Oh my God..." he heard her fretful voice say as he was carefully lifted to his feet. "Mr. Joker? Can you hear me?"

He felt her small hands once again touch his face, this time cupping his jaw to get him to look at her. "Mr. Joker? Please look at me..."

The 'please' that she spoke was the sweetest he had heard. Her voice emphasized the vowels of the word, drawing it out and making it seem that she desperately needed his gaze.

"Mr. Joker?" she spoke again, but he kept his eyes closed. "Please..."

There it was again, and he could feel his stomach pull inward as he took a deep breath, inhaling a hint of the flowery fragrance she was wearing. His heart beat faster as one of her hands moved from his jaw and behind his neck, making her fingernails lightly trace his skin.

He growled and shook his head briskly, making her jump back.

Don't cross the yellow line, Doc, he thought to himself.

However, her fearless hands found him again, but this time on his tingling arm. "Come on...we're taking you to the medical ward. You may be dehydrated..."

As soon as she said that, The Joker saw blackness creep over his consciousness and the sick finally escaped, barely missing Harleen's stilettos. She casually stepped over it and kept a tight grip on his arm. "Yeah...I was right..." she said as she followed the orderlies with her patient.

Jack had gotten his date and he sat nervously in her dressing room, waiting with hazy eyes and a tapping foot.

How the hell did he end up here? He knew Carlo had lied to Rhonda, probably telling her that they were going to a bar, making sure that Little Jacky wouldn't drink.

He frowned. He was always known as Little Jacky. He sometimes hated it.

Jack jumped slightly as the door opened and the dancer entered, still dressed in nothing but her six inch pumps and black thong bikini. She was wearing a white feathered boa around her neck and when she turned, she unconsciously let out a startled squeak when she saw her date's appearance.

He quickly jumped up at her sound and eyed her suspiciously. She had to have known what she was going to see. Carlo had assured him that he would prepare her for that.

His stance was beginning to falter as she cautiously walked over to him. "Jack?'

He slowly nodded as he looked at her chest, her pert breasts glistening with glitter and sweat underneath the white feathers.

She grinned cautiously, saying, "I'm Mandy..."

He scoffed, not amused. "That your real name?" he slurred.

Mandy furrowed her brow. "Does it matter?" she asked rather hotly.

Her tone of voice made Jack glare darkly at her and his ears began to burn with a growing anger. "I'd watch my tongue...sweetheart...I know people..." he threatened, though it was empty.

She spotted it. "Your creep of a brother knows people. Dante can cut your fucking balls off if you so much as -"

Jack suddenly snatched off her feathered boa, making her jump in surprise. He chuckled deeply as he felt his mind begin to reel back into focus. The smell of her sweat was beginning to irritate him. "I love it when you talk dirty..." he growled.

Mandy had seen that look before, and even though he was just a kid, she wasn't going to take any chances. "Don't come any closer, Jack..." she warned. "I mean it...if I scream, you're dead."

She squealed again as he pushed her against the door and pinned her hands against it. "Correction," he whispered. "If you scream...then you're makin' me cum...want me to prove it?"

She pushed him off her. "Your brother said you were shy..." she mumbled cynically.

"You just pushed all the right buttons, doll face..." He couldn't understand the pounding in his ears, but he soon blamed it on the sudden tightness in the crotch of his jeans as he advanced toward her again. "He told me that you girls will do anything...with anyone..."

Mandy saw the hungry look in his eyes again and no longer saw some drunk teenager...and this began to frighten her as his gaze grew darker. "Get out..."

Jack bit his lip as he grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him and biting her neck hard. "Ow! Stop it! Get off me!" she screamed. He took one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and pinched it hard, making her screams louder. She escaped his grasp again and inched to the door. "Get outta my room, you...you...freak!"

Jack suddenly saw red as he grabbed the girl's hair and pulled back her head, letting go of it only to slam her face first into the wood of the door. Her blood stained the paint as she dropped to the floor, tears now traveling down her cheeks as Jack straddled her.

She put her hands up to keep him off but he bounced her head against the cement tile making her next scream catch in her throat.

As she gasped for air, Jack gazed down at her bloody face and gaping mouth. He shook his head to try to set the pounding within it free, but he soon found that his hands were now unzipping his pants. He soon put himself in her mouth, keeping her head pressed against him as she gagged.

"Come on...you get paid for this stuff, don't ya?" he shouted at her.

The sound of her sobs mixed with her struggling breaths suddenly woke him up, and he jumped away from her, making her turn onto her side to inhale deeply and cry freely.

What was happening? Had he really just done that to her? And now, looking at the bloody heap in front of him, there was no doubt that she would tell Azzarello...and he couldn't have that.

Another blackness fell over his eyes, but his focus became keener. He wiped his mouth, zipped up his jeans, and shuffled back to her. He grabbed her face and reached into his pocket. Mandy tried to whimper, expecting a knife or a gun, but instead he pulled out a wad of one dollar bills and forced them into her mouth.

"There," he said. "That wasn't so bad...was it?"

Mandy just lay there, sobbing harder as she felt her white feathered boa loop around her neck, and her eyes bulged as her date tightened it. The last thing she saw was Jack's wide grin as she blacked out and slipped into nothing.

The Joker eyes fluttered open and he found that he was on a hospital bed, his arm now still but feeling a new sensation. He slowly raised his head and saw the IV needle in his forearm with a tube connecting him to a drip bag. He sighed as he put his head down again and gazed at the ceiling. Soon, however, the flowers came back again, and he turned his head to the smell.

There was his doctor, sitting by his bed, her chin resting in her hand as she dozed.

Why was she here? More importantly...why did she care? He was just another file in her office, yet she had stayed late...and if she hadn't, then she wouldn't have pleaded for his eyes to look at her or keep watch over him as he was asleep.

"Doc..." he said. He didn't know why he called out to her in a hushed voice, but he was relieved that she heard him and walked to his side.

The Joker gazed into her clear, blue eyes as blonde tendrils of her hair fell over them. "How do you feel, Mr. Joker?" she whispered back.

He grinned. "Like...I have a needle in my arm." Her smile made his grin wider. "What happened?"

Harleen looked at him, regretfully. "You must have had...a bad reaction to your medication..."

"I took my usual dose of three..." he told her.

"Three?" she asked. "No, no...you're supposed to take one."

He shook his head. "I can read, Doc. It says 'three'..."

Harleen gave him a surprised look and whispered, mostly to herself, "He changed your script...that son-of-a-bitch..."

"Ah, don't be upset at your boss, Doc. Honest mistake..."

She scoffed. "Honest? Hmm...you have no clue..."

He raised his eyebrow to her and licked his dry lips. "So...how did gymnastics go for you?"

Harleen sighed, knowing what he was doing, but she answered, "It went pretty well...considering I went to college on a gymnastics scholarship."

"Oh?" he said, smiling. "So...your dream was to be an acrobat...not a doctor..."

She giggled. "No, not really. I used the scholarship wisely. I competed in many state competitions...and then, as my classes went on...suddenly found that psychology gave me a lot more than what a few somersaults and parallel bars could."

"I see..." The Joker mumbled. They were quiet a moment, only the soft drip of the IV pattering between them. "I lied to you, Doc."

Harleen stepped closer. "About what?"

"When I said I had raped that dancer..."

She looked down at her fingernails that she had been fidgeting with and said, "You didn't then?"

He shook his head. "No...so props to you for being right...again..." He grinned at her as she tried to hide her satisfied smile. "She was my first, though..."

"First? Your first sexual encounter, then?"

"No...my first...kill..."

Harleen's eyes widened and her mouth dropped. "Oh...okay..."

After a slightly uncomfortable pause, The Joker said, "That doesn't interest the studious psychology student that waited up for her patient all night?"

Harleen could feel her cheeks begin to flush so she turned away from him. "Well, it's just that...it's late...we can talk about it in our next session..."

"Suit yourself," The Joker said as he closed his eyes.

"I will ask this, though," she said. "When did...I mean...how old were you?"

He opened his eyes again and sighed as he licked his lips again. "Eighteen..."

Harleen turned to him again. At last, his adolescence! She knew that a turning point would be lurking in his teenage past. It must have been that moment!

"Was it -" she started.

"Was it, what?" he asked, turning his head to her.

"Was that kill...the kill...?"

"Ah..." he realized, smiling. "My breaking point, so to speak?" He paused and looked at her body that was now tense with anticipation.

He knew what she was digging for and he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.

His smile grew wider as he stated, "It's late, Doc...we can talk about it...in our next session..."