Author's note:I know, I know, I promised this chapter way sooner but I ended up pushing the actual chapter 7 back and starting from scratch for this one, so there's definitely so typos and errors that I'll have to fix later…. I'm nervous about it and really hope you guys like it! Thanks for all the amazing support so far, you guys make me smile like an idiot. Enjoy. :)
Harleen had ended their third session together confessing that she had managed to convince Leland to allow the Joker to attend his next meeting together free of the straitjacket. Although, she had been been ineffective in unscrambling the expression on his stunning face after she delivered the news, and her hazy confusion was not alleviated when he was hauled from the therapy room, without any last word to her. However, she had high hopes that the news coupled with her painful confession had put her on a fast track to gaining his ever elusive trust. In the meantime, Harleen was convinced that she needed to keep herself busy, in an attempt to keep the previous session off her mind. She couldn't allow herself to be pulled back into the darkness that had already eaten up such a large portion of her limited time on Earth. Besides, her childhood trauma had lead to what was promptly becoming one of the best decisions of her life: switching to a psych major in her final year of college. 'I wouldn't have met him if I hadn't'. She was surprised by this admission, but did not look deeper into it. Instead, she aggressively throw herself into the paperwork that had been piling up on her desk for the last week or so.
Meanwhile, the Joker sat lost in thought deep down in the dark dungeon of Arkham Asylum. Though he was reluctant to admit it, he was vastly enjoying his sessions with Doctor Quinzel…not because they were actually helping him, he scoffed at such a notion. No, but because she was just too much damn fun. However, things were about to change drastically because while Harleen was fun, Harley was bound to be far, far more entertaining. Breaking her, would be his final show at Arkham, at least for the time being: he needed to get out, remind everyone just who the King of Gotham city is, remind them just what fear was. The real hitch in his plan was the blonde herself, she was just so convinced that fighting everything she could be was the solution. Luckily, he knew a few things about madness: it was like gravity. And all it really takes is a little push to get the ball rolling. He broke out into manic laughter, smiling like that madman he was at the thought of what was to come.
Their next session began like the others. Well, excluding the fact that the guards had paused, inquiring multiple times whether Harleen was sure about this. And for what felt like the hundredth time she replied "Yes, yes. I'm his Doctor, I know what's best." and "Of course I know how a panic button works." That retort was attached to a extreme roll of her sky toned eyes. 'I'm a Doctor dammit, not a child.' She would have laughed at her little joke if she weren't so exasperated with the dense meathead's before her. There was a sharp knock at the door before it was thrust open by several other guards hastily pushing the Joker into the small space. His brilliant emerald orbs made contact with her steely blue eyes and neither could look away. A small smile graced her pale lips as he sat down and the guards strapped him to the chair, before giving her one last desperate glance before exiting the room, a glance that she was oblivious to.
"How are you feeling today Mr. J?" She asked starting light.
He smirked, and Harleen was wonderstruck. "Liberated Doctor." She could see the laugh stuck in his throat at his own joke as he rolled his shoulders, indicating that he enjoyed the freedom from the tightly bond straitjacket. She was surprised he waited to laugh, and suddenly it occurred to her that he was waiting to see if she got the joke.
Letting out a soft giggle, she spoke. "Well, I suppose that's a step in the right direction."
"And what about you kitten?"
"What about me Mr. J?"
"Do you feel liberated?" He purred, his tongue sliding across his metallic grill in the most delicious way. He knew she would fight him with this. That the obvious answer was no because she still playing shy, acting like she was the one welding all the power, still playing Doctor perfect.
She tilted her head, long blonde hair spraying out across her slender shoulders. "Let's focus on you today, yeah?" She smiled softly and there was a sadness behind her eyes. "After all, it is your turn to give me a secret."
His smile widened drastically.
"And Mr. J. It better be a good one." She challenged, with a raise of her eyebrow.
He growled softly. "Whatever the lady wants..." His eyes connected with hers. "She gets."
"I don't know if I've ever told you this Doc, but I hated my Father." And suddenly the Joker is launched into an animated story. One that Harleen, was not prepared for. It pulled at every emotion she had ever felt, was so poetically tragic that she almost couldn't believe it. It gave her such vast insight to the man before her, or better the man he had been. Explained the source of his infinite humor, of the permanent mask he wore on his perfectly angled face. And Harleen found herself struggling immensely to not see herself within the subtext of the story: she felt as if she were one with him at that moment, with pasts so dissimilar, yet so incredibly alike. Could feel her frozen heart shatter into small icy daggers as she imaged a child just as frightened as she had been all those years ago. Scared of the very people he should have been able to trust the most. Harleen felt silent tears slide down her porcelain cheeks and she could not for the life of her determine whether they were tears for herself or for him. Maybe it was both.
Meanwhile Joker sat back with a smile threatening to spread across his dangerous lip. He admired his work, trying to ignore the sensation that rose in his throat at the sight of her perfect face clouded with tears. Her blue eyes somehow managed to be even more breathtaking when they were glistening and red. He had to admit though, it was some of his best work. To be fair, parts of the story were indeed true, he just couldn't exactly name what parts, everything from back then seemed to get a bit...fuzzy. And he'd always been one for a good story. It wasn't even truly his story to tell anymore: belonged to someone he had erased from existence so long, long ago.
"J…" She started, having no idea where the sentence would end. Her hand blindly reached out for him and it felt as though she were reaching out to the world, her world.
He made an attempt to wave his cuffed hands. "Dust in the wind Harls. Besides, it's your turn." He smiled that smile, and Harleen missed the angry spark behind his sinful eyes.
She wiped at her face, surprised by how quickly he wanted to move on, though she supposed she would have felt the same. 'He doesn't want your pity Harleen… or if he does he'll only use it against you.' She reasoned with herself, though she couldn't not look at him differently now: there was something behind the wide smile and manic laugh that no one else saw. She hadn't even managed to see it until now. Eventually she finds herself nodding in agreement, allowing him to steer the conversation. "What do you want to know?"
He pretended to ponder for a long moment, glancing up at the ceiling while smiling to himself. "Hmm." He sighed and glanced back down. "Tell me…just how was it dating Bruce Wayne?"
Harleen gulped, as she observes how his eyes turn several shades darker. "He wasn't all that grand." She started, trying to downplay anything she had felt during their short time together. "He's very serious, almost all the time." That much was true, and she decides to just go with honesty. "It was never going to work. I would have always been the blonde ditz on his arm, always second best, just some powerless wannabe."
'So the cat has some scratch after all.' The Joker found himself musing. "And since then you haven't seen anyone." He said it more like a statement than a question because he could not stand for her to think he cared, could not even fathom himself why it would bother him if she was with anyone. He convinced himself that it's simply because he doesn't want anyone else playing with his toys…with what was now all his. 'That is until the toy breaks.'
"Tisk, tisk Mr. J, you already got your secret. Now I get one."
"Harley." He warned, and his hands itch to make contact with something hard…'or perhaps soft.' He thinks, looking at her like a lion would a gazelle.
"Shhh I'm thinking." And her accent slips out, so he allowed her quip to slide like rain off a car window.
He lets out an animalistic growl as he waits. Never having been very patient.
Suddenly Harleen's eyes darkened and the Joker watched as she slide her delicate hand over the tape recorder switching it off.
'This should be interesting'. He muses to himself as he waits for the blonde beauty to continue her line of questions.
"What does it feel like to take someone's life?" She asks in a voice so soft that it sounds more like a breath.
The Joker closes his eyes quickly, and lets out a purring noise. Harleen feels a cold shiver run down her body at the sound, and she knows she should be afraid. Knows this was not the kind of question she iss suppose to be asking the most notorious psychopath of Gotham, but she wants to know. She needs to know.
Suddenly his eyes flash open and she is taken aback by the playfully dark look in his wicked gaze. "Why doctor Quinzel" He speaks in a menacing growl that turns Harleen's insides into hot coals. "That doesn't seem to be the kind of question they want you to be asking me."
Joker made a point of empathizing the they, in a way that made it clear that Harleen did not belong in the same category as the rest of the Arkham's employees. He expected for her to cower under his intense gaze, to take back her words, to stutter on her own tongue and change the subject quickly back to the basic questions that she was instructed to ask every patient; but her answer surprised them both.
"Tell me anyway." She begs in the same breathy tone as before.
A broad smile spreads across the Joker's white face at her responses, and he feels the sensation from the other day clenching inside his chest.
Harleen's breath quicken as she watchs his eyes become an even darker shade and a smile stretches across his sharp cut features.
"Like nothing you've ever felt before Doctor. Like you've got the whole damn world in the palm of your hand" Was all Joker said, knowing that this would only spur her on.
Harleen knew he was trying to encourage her and that, if she were wise she would stop, but she needed to know, there was a deep, dark, raw part of her that ached for him to continue: to tell her everything. She felt a giggle erupt from her throat as she whispered "I want to know…" however Harleen never finished her statement as she realized what she was going to say. Suddenly, she pushed her chair back, letting it scrape against the floor and broke the silence she had created.
Seeing the panic in her eyes the Joker couldn't stop a deep laugh from pushing it's way out of his chest. "It's just you and me Doc, why don't you let her out."
Harleen was confused to who he was referring to but before she had the chance to ask the pesky guards are swarming into the small room.
"Time's up Doctor Q." Says one of them, gesturing towards the clock on the wall. And then they are pulling the madman from the white room, as he laughs crazily.
"What got into him?" Someone murmurs.
The Joker finds himself in hysteria all the way back to his cell. 'Yes Harley definitely was going to be far, far more entertaining than he ever could have imagined.'
Author's note: Hope you guys liked it, your reviews are what inspired this so thank you all so so much. Chapter 8 is already in the reworks so it should be out very soon. Leave a review if you feel obliged. Also I have one question…. How do you guys feel about smut? (maybe that's a hint...I guess we'll see).