"So they took off? And kept the car?" One of his henchman asked, as Joker stomped around the apartment. He couldn't sit still, he had to move.
"Yes, they kept the car." Joker murmured, taking a few deep breaths. He hadn't even realized that they were hijacking his car when he got out.
"But that was our car!" The man continued, indignant. Joker rolled his eyes and shot him, still pacing around. "But that was our car!" He mimicked the man in a high pitched voice, stepping over his dying body as if he weren't there.
"I'm going to get her back. She won't get away with this..." He whispered.
Time passed.
Harleen started her life with Pamela, who now went by the name 'Poison Ivy' in the criminal circles she had to move herself in. She couldn't go back to Arkham after shooting all those guards but she needed an income, after all. They had to get a new place, since going back home wasn't an option. It would be the first place the police would come and check out. Harleen had to admit that she wasn't completely happy. With her girlfriend being a criminal, it felt exactly like her life with Arthur. Ivy had to come and go at strange hours, they couldn't be seen out together and Harleen still had to stick to living with a schedule, since she was a working girl. Ivy asked her to quit her job, but truth was that Harleen didn't want to spend all that time with her. The sex had been great, at first, but she missed something. Was it the abuse? Was it the vanilla element that she didn't like? It was good, Ivy was a very giving lover and when they made love they were equals...but maybe that's what Harleen didn't like about it. Or didn't know how to handle. Mulling all of this over, she sipped from her coffee and nodded politely when Vicky entered the room.
"What's wrong?" She asked, when she saw that the woman was upset. Her observance shocked Vicky a bit and she blinked rapidly before answering.
"Nothing! I spent a great weekend with Jasper!" She said in a high voice. Harleen frowned. "Did you?"
"Yes! He took us to his country house and we spent time with his parents." She barked, pouring herself coffee as well.
"Sounds like you had a lot of fun!" Harleen remarked, sounding rather sarcastic. She got up and finished her coffee, rinsing the mug in the sink. "I have a patient to get to." She said with a wink and picked up the file from her desk, reading it over as she walked to the therapy room.
"Melvin Reipan. Murder, arson, abuse of spouse, rape. Damn." Harleen mumbled to herself as she read the file. An orderly joined her, to enter the therapy room with her. She frowned. She hadn't seen him before and he seemed familiar somehow. Of course they hired a whole group of new people, after Ivy's shooting.
"Good morning, doctor. I'm Bret. I'm new." He explained, when caught her staring. Harleen cleared her throat, a little embarrassed that he saw that. "Doctor Harleen Quinzel, nice to meet you."
She sat down at the table and waited, until Bret brought in the patient. She started to jot a few things down as Bret sat the patient down, not looking up right away. Truth was, she was a bit nervous to give therapy to someone so severe.
"Dr. Quinzel. What an honor." A familiar voice said. Harleen's head shot up and she stared into Arthur's face, giving her a smug grin.
"Arthur? What...the file said 'Melvin'!" She gasped and stood up, looking at Bret for help. But Bret wasn't going to help. He was holding a gun and held one of his fingers near his lips, indicating that she shouldn't call for help. He pointed at her chair and she sat back down, looking at Arthur again.
"Melvin huh? Must have been a mistake." He said with a shrug. Now Harleen knew where she knew Bret from. He was one of Arthur's men. She saw him without his mask once or twice. It dawned on her that Arthur had time to prepare, this time. He probably sent his men to get jobs here, to infiltrate her work. One of the administration clerks must have messed up the file on purpose, so she wouldn't be able to decline coming in here. While Harleen was pondering over this, Bret had lit a cigarette for Arthur and handed it to him. He took a long drag from it and blew out the smoke. It lingered around him, as if the smoke wanted to stick to him instead of evaporate. Harleen noticed that he was shackled, but he wasn't secured to his seat. He could attack her at any given moment, despite his angelic look wearing his white clothes and the green dye washed out of his hair.
"Very well. You want therapy? I'll give you therapy. Why do you think you're so keen in hurting the ones you love?" Harleen asked, picking up her pen.
Arthur scoffed and chuckled some, shaking his head. "You're just like 'em. At least you try to be. You actually think you're able to help me. But that's not why you're here, is it? You're here because you couldn't help yourself. Dysfunctional family, am I right?"
He was taunting her.
"You know an awful lot about that. Dysfunctional families. Does it hurt you that you don't have one anymore?" Harleen shot back and reveled in the glare that Arthur shot her."That little apartment...it had one bedroom, right? Did you make your mother sleep on the couch?" She continued, frowning.
"No! I always took care of my mother!" Arthur growled, pointing at her with his cigarette.
Harleen smirked. A weak point. Good. "And yet she's dead. Was that a result of you taking care of her?"
"Ivy doesn't take care of your needs, does she?" Arthur fired back. Harleen stammered a bit, not expecting the switch. She also hadn't expected him to be right. Now it was his time to smirk at her, by her shocked response he could see that he was right.
"That's too bad, isn't it? We both know how you crave to be fucked. Used. Lemme guess...she treats you equal in bed and not like the slut you are." Harleen slapped him across the face and he let out a high-pitched laugh. "That made you a little wet, didn't it? You love it when I remind you." He taunted, taking another drag from his cigarette.
"So you let yourself get caught just to mess with me, is that it? How idiotic is that?" Harleen told him through gritted teeth.
"It's a perfectly good reason, actually. I gave you plenty of time to come back to me. And you didn't. You didn't come back, Harley." Arthur replied, narrowing his eyes at her as he finished his cigarette.
An unnerving feeling came over Harley, as she witnessed him here in front of her. He had all the power. Who knew what other arrangements he made, before coming here today.
"What do you want from me, Arthur? Why are you here?" She asked him, trying to sound calm. But the tremble in her voice did not go unheard by him. He smirked to himself.
"I want nothing from you. Just your time. You're getting paid for this, so I don't know why you're complaining. You didn't come back to me. You're mine. You didn't come back." He rambled, the focus leaving his eyes.
At this point, Harley wasn't even sure that he was aware of her presence anymore. She wasn't even sure if she was still aware of her presence. She always felt like she lost herself a little, when she was in a room with him. Like she didn't really exist next to him. But she did exist, she had to hold on to that.
"Arthur, I couldn't come back. You understand that, right? Why I couldn't come back? You hurt me. I couldn't risk you hurting me anymore. If it wasn't for Ivy's potion, she would have been dead. You took it too far." Harleen calmly explained, after she regathered herself, after a few deep breaths.
"I only hurt you when you deserved it, when you didn't listen to my rules. We went through those rules together, remember? I stuck my cock down your throat after every rule. I figured I'd have to make you feel like a slut, to get your attention. You think with your cunt, after all." He replied to the accusations, casually. "I'd like some water." He then added, nodding at the water cooler against the wall.
Harleen got up, flustered by his choice of words just now. Also because she began to doubt herself. He did go over the rules with her and she did agree to them. Was this her own fault? Was she to blame for everything that happened?
"Plus you cheated on me. I'd never cheat on you. That was despicable." He continued, staring at a spot on the wall, refusing to look at her.
Harley bowed her head. This was true, she did cheat on him. She could have ended things between them and then kiss Pamela, then maybe things would have been different.
She grabbed a foam cup and pushed the button on the machine, causing the apparatus to spit out a stream of water. Catching the stream with the cup, she filled it with the crisp and clear liquid, walking back to him once she was done. Her heels made click-clack sounds on the tiles, which was the only sound in the room in this moment. It was more unnerving than when he spoke, the pregnant silence. The threat of something about to happen, split decisions that needed to be made in the heat of the moment.
Arthur stubbornly kept holding the edge of his seat, making clear that he wasn't about to reach up and accept the cup from her. Patients were supposed to be shackled to their chairs, for safety, after all.
Harley rolled her eyes and sighed, holding the cup against his lips. Locking gazes with her, he stared at her intently while slurping the liquid from the cup with loud and dirty sounds. As he swallowed, he softly moaned and gazed at her with mirth in his eyes. Again she felt herself get wet for him, as he knew precisely how to push her buttons. With a disgusted sound, she put the cup on the table and sat back down, picking up her pen again to make some notes.
"Are you going to say you are sorry?" Arthur asked, cocking a brow at her.
Harley glared at him and her jaw dropped. "Excuse me? Say sorry to you? Are you going to say sorry to -me-? You've beaten me, humiliated me, used me, tossed me away like trash and tried to kill my..." She listed but then hesitated, not knowing how to call Ivy.
"Your what? The whore you used to cheat on me with?" He asked her darkly, snapping his fingers. At first Harley didn't understand what the snap was for, but then Bret stepped forward and lighted another cigarette for him.
After taking a drag, he held the arm with the cigarette near his mouth, the smoke again making circles around his head.
"I...I am sorry for that. I should have told you about my feelings for her." Harley admitted, nodding solemnly.
"You shouldn't have fallen for her in the first place, you are mine!" He shouted, slamming his fist on the table in anger. He glared at her intently and started to drag and blow out smoke rapidly, trying to calm himself down.
"You fucked up, dollface." He added, once he finally calmed down a bit, his strained breathing more under control.
Harley noticed the change. The fact that he didn't call her 'Harley', but 'dollface'. She had seen it the other way around, she had seen Joker turn back to Arthur. Noticed the softness behind his eyes and the change of his tone. But she never saw this. She never saw Arthur turn into Joker in front of her. His look was harsh, full of hate and carelessness. His mouth formed an angered sneer and the tone in his voice betrayed the lack of tenderness and the need to hurt her.
"Do you know what you get...when you cross a naive psychiatrist with a psychopath that gets off on seeing her in pain?" He suddenly asked, tilting his head at her.
"W-What?" Harley asked, her voice not more than a whisper. As soon as the word left her mouth, Harley knew that she made a mistake.
"You get what you fucking deserve!" He growled, his hands shooting forwards, toward her neck.