A/N: Woah thank you so much to pranksterganster83 and all the guest reviewers! Your positive feedback is just amazing to read!

17.

Gotham's streets and buildings were coated in a crisp layer of frost, another sign that winter was fast approaching. Unsurprisingly, Arkham's session rooms weren't properly insulated and Harley shivered as she sat huddled in her chair, the chill strong enough to seep through her lab coat and kiss her skin. She folded her arms firmly across her chest, hoping to keep some of the heat in as she waited.

The minutes stretched by, making her regret arriving so early. She'd thought it would give her time to prepare but instead she was just sitting here overthinking everything. This session, if you could even call it that, was a means to an end for her boss. It wasn't doctoring. It was gross. The longer she sat stewing, the worse she felt about it all.

Harley swallowed and smoothed her lab coat, fingers flattening the soft fabric against her thighs. God she was nervous. Who did she think she was, trying to manipulate the Joker? This was his turf, his area of expertise. What if he sniffed her out in seconds, realised she was leading him into a trap? What would he do to her?

She worried her bottom lip; maybe it was wise to leave the strait jacket on this time, except that would draw suspicion. No. She'd have to just pull this off, which she wouldn't be able to do if she couldn't fucking relax.

Crossing and uncrossing her legs, Harley tried to ease the tension in her posture, loosening her muscles and dropping her shoulders.

The great metal door swung inwards and two guards stepped in with her patient. She smiled at them as they pushed him into the spare metal chair, thinking I am a friendly, care-free doctor and hoping that it would project on to her face. The burly men nodded at her and left, the click of the lock behind them making Harley's heart thump a little faster.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, the Joker rose to his feet, waiting for her to come and untie him. Harley pushed her chair backwards and casually walked over, trying to emulate his calm body language as her feet landed too loudly on the floor.

She fiddled with the leather straps, acutely aware that they were only a foot apart, practically chest to chest. His body heat seeped into her fingertips, how had she never noticed that before? She blushed, trying to focus on what she was doing, but the feeling of his dark gaze trained on her face was hard to ignore. Carefully, she ran her hands over his broad shoulders, easing the jacket off him to reveal the baggy Arkham jumper underneath.

He sat down, still silent, and she disposed of the bundle of cloth under the table and took her seat as well, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as a strange tension from the encounter curled around her heart. The room suddenly didn't seem so cold.

'Have you ever had a girlfriend?' Harley asked quietly, flicking on the tape recorder.

His eyebrows shot up, a smirk curling the side of his mouth. 'Why, you offering?'

'Don't be absurd.' She snapped a little too quickly. 'I'm being serious.'

He tilted his head, shaggy green hair falling over his shoulder. 'Do you think I'm the kind of guy that does girlfriends?'

The non-answer didn't put her off, instead she arched a brow. 'How about a best friend then, a confidante?'

'You think you can just ask me anything and I'll uh, spill my guts?'

Thankfully his tone sounded more amused than anything else. That was relieving, she needed him in an agreeable mood or this conversation was going to go nowhere, something she really couldn't afford. 'If it were that easy you'd be sitting across from Kellerman right now.'

His tongue prodded the scars along his cheek as he paused. 'Then why bother at all hmm?'

Harley did her best to play it cool, trying not to let on to the guilt that was coursing through her veins. If the Joker sensed it, the game would end before it had even begun. She needed to keep her emotions in check, bottled up and stashed away so they couldn't interfere with her performance. The bait was in the water, now for the hook.

'I want to know if you're open to a little exchange? One piece of information about you, for something in return.'

That certainly got his attention. 'What are you offering Harleykins?'

'Anything…within reason.' She hastily added when his lip quirked upwards.

The Joker leaned back in his chair, regarding her with an unreadable expression as he considered her trade.

'That's a bold statement Doc, is it worth it?'

'I get one question, which you have to answer honestly and openly. You get something in return for your trouble. Sounds fair to me.'

'Nothing in life is fair.' The Joker murmured, and she swallowed, the glint in his eyes making her think she would be about to learn that the hard way. 'But I'm afraid there's a hole in your plan. You see, there's nothing I need from you, or care to learn… No deal.' The words were almost a purr.

'That's a shame, I would've thought you'd be more interesting than that.'

The man across from her smiled, yellow teeth on full display. 'Are you calling me boring Harley?'

'Your words, not mine.' She shrugged, examining her nails as she let the insult settle on him. Perhaps it'd been a cheap shot, but psychopaths had notoriously grandiose ideas about themselves. If there was anything that would provoke a reaction, this was the way to do it.

'Rules are boring. You wanna have some fun Harley? Open up the playing field, I want to be able to ask for anything, that's my condition.'

She mulled it over in silence, weighing up the options. It was a dangerous offer, accepting could have unforetold consequences, but to turn him down was to throw away a guaranteed way to complete Arkham's task. Frankly she didn't want to chance it. What if she never got another opportunity? She'd lose everything, including him…

'How do I know you're not going to fuck me over?'

'That's a risk we'll both have to take.'

'Not good enough.' She insisted. 'I want a contingency for if you fail to deliver.'

'Likewise…name your price.'

He was watching her so intensely now, making her skin prickle. She hesitated, brain working at a mile a minute.'I... no, this is ridiculous. I'm not doing this with you, forget it.' Harley growled for the benefit of the tape recorder. Getting caught making a deal like this would torpedo her career, this transaction had to fly under the radar.

She reached for the front page of her notes and swiftly flipped it over to the blank side. Pulling a black pen out of her pocket she scribbled I want you to write your real name down in the corner, then tear it off and crumple it up into a pellet. Shove it into a crack in the concrete somewhere. If you don't answer my question I'll read it, if you do, I'll burn it.

Harley slid the pen and paper across the table to him, half sure her request would go down like a lead balloon. His eyes scanned her writing and then shot up to hers, the surprise evident on his face. She held his gaze steadily, trying to show that she meant business.

'Your loss Doc.' He drawled as he picked up the pen and jotted down a reply. 'Most psychiatrists would kill for an opportunity like that.'

He pushed the page back to her. If you cheat and read it, I will know, and I will kill you.

Harley didn't doubt it for a second, the feral gleam in his eyes making her pulse spike. 'I'm not most psychiatrists.'

Got it.

'Thank god for that.' He pulled the paper back to his side of the table and she nodded at him. With a lazy slowness, he wrote out another sentence or two.

I want you to break me out of my cell tomorrow evening. Take me to the roof of the asylum, bring a packet of cigarettes and a phone.

She gasped. Tomorrow evening!? That was impossible, she didn't even know how to get to the roof, let alone have a way to sneak him up there!

'So tell me, have you been looking after yourself this week?' She bit out, thoughts reeling from his demand.

You can't possibly expect me to do that. I could be in so much trouble.

'I keep myself occupied.'

That's the idea Harls, no one will find out from me if you hold up your end.

'And are you trying to focus on the future like we discussed?'

I don't have enough time to organise something like that!

'I'm uh, planning to get out more.'

If you can't do it, you don't deserve to be part of my world. I won't answer your question, or any others you throw at me. Consider it the end of my doctor-patient cooperation.

What?! Harley's eyes snapped up to him. His jaw was set, mouth drawn into a serious line. Holy shit he actually meant it.

'Is that so?' She breathed. How on earth did she respond to that? If she said no, Arkham would fire her as soon as the silent treatment started. If she said yes, she risked even more. Breaking the Joker out, even for only a few hours, was no laughing matter. That kind of offense would warrant a hefty prison sentence at the least. How could he ask something like that of her? This was no longer the deal she'd set out to make, he'd given her an ultimatum.

Harley chewed her pen, deeply conflicted. This was a rock and a hard place if she'd ever heard of one. Somehow, the Joker had managed to back her into a bloody corner. She was supposed to be the one in control dammit. There was an important lesson here, she needed to be more alert going forwards.

Not seeing another option, Harley scrawled an answer.

You're on.

He shot her a devilishly handsome smile and her heart fluttered, please let this not be a mistake.

The Joker picked up the pen and tapped the space under his eyebrow, motioning for her to close her eyes. Breathing too fast to be considered calm, Harley screwed her eyes shut. She heard the biro scratching across the page. Then there was a ripping sound and his chair scraped back across the floor.

She hurriedly muttered, 'Give me a moment to tie my shoe,' hoping that anyone listening back to the recording would write it off.

He padded around the room so quietly, she jumped when his hands came down hard on her shoulders, thumbs stroking the space underneath her shoulder blades. Her eyes flew open, a squeak leaving her mouth in surprise as she heard a breathy laugh behind her ears.

Not appreciating the joke, Harley grumpily shrugged him off as silently as she could. He let her, clearly enjoying her annoyance, before his rough hand came up to her cheek. Palm resting on her jaw, he applied a gentle pressure, turning her head to the right.

Harley's eyes caught sight of a fleck of white in the uneven concrete, perhaps ten centimetres up from the floor. It was easy to miss if you didn't know what you were looking for. How strange it was to think that his real name was less than a metre away from her. There must be thousands of people who would love to be in this position, maybe even read the note regardless of the deal. And yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew she would never look at it, a deep feeling of resolve settling in her heart as she stared at the tiny bit of paper.

She blinked and looked back to him. He'd taken his seat opposite her and was watching her reaction, messy green hair tucked behind his ears. 'Thank you for your patience.' Harley whispered. 'Let's continue.'

They'd reached a mutual understanding. He was putting a huge amount of trust in her, and her in him. Somehow, she was positive that he'd written down his actual name, a feeling in her bones. He'd fulfilled her request, now it was her turn to deliver. If only it were that simple.

A/N: Well, well, well, what did you think of that?

Next time: Harley's plan takes shape...