Author's note: Well hey guys, I missed you! It's been quite a while and I'm so super sorry about that, I've just been so so busy with starting college and all that. (I definitely signed up for too many clubs...haha). Well, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and it isn't too choppy or anything, I tried, I really did.

"Ahhh." the Joker purred out, not in pain however, but in a knowing way, that made Harleen feel as though he were looking right into her soul.

"We're not playing these games anymore Mr. J" she spoke out in a dark whisper.

"And just when I thought things were about to get really fun." He growled as her hand griped tighter on his hair.

"Oh, if you think this is fun than you're gonna get a hoot out of what I've planned next." Harleen tossed out.

The Joker's grin widened, and his wicked green eyes darkened. He already could guess what his pretty little Doctor had in mind. "I always love a good show, my dear." He challenged, pink tongue flicking out against his grill.

Harleen's blue eyes were instantly drawn to his crimson lips, and she felt her cheeks warm like a furnace. She quickly released his green locks, aggravated with her body's visible betrayal.

The Joker's mouth watered as he watched her pale cheeks become flushed, and as he thought of the red hot blood coursing through her now widened blood vessels. He watched as Harleen quickly retreated out of the small room, that had until recently felt like a quick taste of heaven. However, now they knew the truth, that young blonde had willingly signed herself up for regularly scheduled dates with the devil himself.

It did not take long for Harleen to come back into the glowing white room. And the Joker hadn't bothered to try and hear what she had been feverently whispering to the guards outside the door; he knew exactly the kind of thing she had planned for him, had seen it lurking behind her pretty sapphire eyes. And the words that floated out of her mouth next were confirmation enough.

"Clearly, this method of treatment is not working, and I've decided we need to take a more proactive measure…" Harleen spoke in a firm voice, trying and failing to not be completely awestruck by the the way his powerful shoulders tensed under the constricts of his white straightjacket.

"So you want to hurt me Doctor Quinzel?" he broke off, and laughed darkly. He knew the truth, that despite what the blonde before him wanted to believe, the world was a dark, dark, messy place: where people would hurt other people purely to an attempt to make things even. To make everyone around them just as damaged as themselves. That the whole damn place was one giant breeding ground for chaos and madness.

"I'm your Doctor Mr. J. I only want what's best for you." She reasoned, no longer sure who she was trying to convince of the statement. At one point it was true, she had wanted to help him not only because it would bring her recognition and fame, but because she didn't want anyone, even a murdering madman, to feel the way she had felt her entire life. But now, now things were complicated. He somehow wasn't what she had expected, he didn't want her help- didn't need it. Now, she wanted to convince herself that he was just as human as the rest. To hurt him the way he had managed to hurt her, and it seemed that emotional pain wouldn't do the trick.

"Your first session of ETC is scheduled in the next half hour. I've already contacted the anesthesiologist to let them know."

"Oh goodie." He scoffed. "Could you be a good little girl and mention that I prefer nitrous oxide?" He giggled at his own joke.

Harleen resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead motioned for the guards to bring him to next wing of the Asylum.

'She certainly is a hard nutcase to crack.' The Joker mused to himself as the guards violently tugged him down the hall.

The Joker tried not to see red as he waited, strapped down on the medical bed. He did not mind playing their game, in fact he currently lived for it: Arkham Asylum had been far too bland without her. However, the Joker was not a patient man, and the fact that the charming blonde had yet to make an appearance since the therapy room was really starting to make him...hmmm what was the word? Murderous. Being in a room full of half wit, foureyes was not helping to quell his rage either. He did, however, relish in the way they scurried around the small space, avoiding eye contact, perhaps convinced that that was the only way to appease the beast. To keep himself sufficiently distracted from the burning fire crackling inside himself, the Joker began to whistle an unfamiliar tune, which only added to the unease of the compact room.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Harleen was attempting to gather all the air she could fit into her lungs, before she finally was able to summon the courage to push open the weight door of electroconvulsive therapy room.

She had always found this section of the hospital immensely disturbing. Her first introduction to the barren place already felt like years ago, despite it only having been a few months prior. Still being a fresh blooded intern, she had been forced into sitting in on one of Doctor Leland's many therapy sessions. Harlene could still recall Leland's words before they had begun the day. "I just want you to get a feel for how things run around here, Doctor Quinzel." And if she were not the women she was, she would have left Arkham Asylum that day and never have come back.

It had been with a schizophrenic patient who had been in a catatonic state; he had been in a staring spell all morning, mimicking the random erratic movements of Leland. The anesthesia had kicked in quickly and Harleen had been fascinated by the way the patient's tireless gaze had clouded over, revealing the whites of his eyes before they fluttered shut. She had been transfixed by the way his stiff muscles had slackened as the drug raced through his thick, hot blood stream. Though, her sentiment towards the process had turned sour the moment her naive eyes had made contact with the part that had been most unsettling to her was just how small they were, how harmless they looked, yet they held so much power: they could heal the dark swirls of sickness within a patient's brain tissue within milliseconds, or they could cause a person to descend into new shades of blackness.

The sound had made her stomach turn, though it was over in seconds. She swore, even now, she could still hear the hum of the machine as the electricity had swam from the wicked apparatus and been carried through the wires, like millions on millions of small, angry wasps, before finally coming in contact with human flesh, and bone, and tissue. Her entire body turned cold whenever she recalled the way the man's face had contorted on the cold, padded table; of how in that moment she felt something greater than the disgust that had initially assaulted her in rough waves. That some cruel, sick part of her took pleasure in seeing how little control someone had in a moment like that. How pain made everything else disappear. She had felt sick because she enjoyed every second of it, felt sick because she was scared of what that could mean. And so, she had promised herself that she would never make another trip to the ECT therapy rooms. And she would have kept her promise, if it weren't for him.

Harleen was startled out of her daydreaming by a deep, rich growl that could only belong to one person. "I don't like to be kept waiting Doctor Quinzel." He said in a silky tone, and Harleen could practically feel the temperature of the room drop. All the other nurses in the room cast panicked glances in her direction, silently begging her to not agitate the monster before them. But Harleen refused to let him scare her.

"Sit back and relax Mr. J, this will be over before you know it." She said in a honey sweet voice. Technically, she was allowed to use electroconvulsive therapy at Arkham without needing the patient's consent. And while previously, the fact had annoyed her, she now felt little remorse. 'This is to help him. I'm just trying to help him.' Harlene chanted to herself as she watched the anesthesiologist place the mask over his face. She knew it was a lie, but it was easier to understand than the truth.

The Joker said nothing after that. And Harleen was annoyed by the satisfied smirk that had spread across his dark lips beneath the mask. Suddenly, it seemed that she was someone else entirely, consumed by her anger and hurt, even years from that moment she could not recall what had happened between the moment she saw his devilish smirk and the first shock that she had sent blazing through his brain. The only thing that had brought her back from her sleep like state was the way his body convulsed on the table that first time. She felt so incredibly sick watching his limbs shake, felt completely mortified by how little control he had. It suddenly felt as though she did not know the man before her at all, and that scared her the most. And she would have stopped right then if it were not for the giggly voice in her head screaming for her to stop.

'Stop talking!' Harleen almost scream aloud in frustration. And she signaled that she was going to continue. Deep down she was aware of why she was doing this. Some twisted part of her seemed to be connected to him, and maybe if she could cure him she could ride herself of it. 'Why would you want that?' A small voice itched at her consciousness.

After the third shock Harleen put the electrodes away, and in a voice that she barely recognized as her own demanded that everyone leave her to talk to the patient when he woke up. The nurses were more than grateful to get away from Gotham's most feared psychopath.

Once alone, the subtle beep of the monitor was the only thing that reminded Harleen that the man before her was indeed human. Pulling up a chair up next to the bed that the Joker was resting on, she watched, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest. It reminded her of waves on a calm day. He looked so utterly untroubled when his striking eyes were concealed behind his pale, pale lids and his cruel lips were not twisted upward in that delicious way. If Harleen were smart, she would have left the moment her mind began to wonder towards such thoughts, but she couldn't find the power to leave him. She was like a moth to a flame, and it seemed that she wanted the flame to consume her alive. On impulse, her small hand traveled across his perfect, and scarred face, enjoying the feeling of his smooth skin beneath her fingers again, reminding her of her second session with him, that already felt like a lifetime ago.

Eventually, Harleen soon found the adrenaline that had been coursing roughly through her veins wearing off, and the exhaustion created the night prior creeping upon her. Glancing around, just to be sure she was truly and completely alone, Harleen allowed herself to lay her head down on the Joker's pale arm and fall into a deep sleep.

Harleen let out a soft moan as she felt her head being jostled slightly and a very familiar voice whispering an even more familiar name to her. "Harley…Harley, wake up." Suddenly the voice became dark "Wake up Harley or I'll make sure those pretty blue eyes of yours never open again." Jolting upright Harleen saw a wicked smile spread across the Joker's crimson lips. Quickly she glanced down and relaxed when she saw that he was still strap to the table. His eyes sparked with anger when her blue orbs made contact with his viridescent ones.

"You know I hate it when we fight Harley." He growled and Harleen tried not to shrink back as she felt the rage seeping from his hot mouth.

She scoffed. "I beg to differ, in fact I think you get off on it."

Ignoring her, he continued. "Maybe if you listened to me, to her" He said, silently inclining his head towards Harleen's. "You would feel differently. I'm only trying to help you Harley."

"I think you're forgetting that you're the one with the cushy white room, forever stuck in a straight jacket." She challenged.

"Harley, Harley, Harley" He said in a singsong tone. "Physically I may be constrained, but mentally I'm free. Can you honestly tell me it's the same for you?"

Harleen sat in silence for a long moment. He'd ruined her, somewhere along the line that is. Because before she would have said yes: she was free; now though, everything was blurry, it was like she was toeing at an invisible line, suddenly everything she did, all the things that were expected of her felt forced and unnatural, like she was living as someone else entirely. She didn't want to fight him anymore because the more she did, the more she fought with herself. So she ignored his question, and settled for telling him the truth. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore J." She whispered. The Joker let out a primal purr, savoring in the way his name fell from her rosy lips.

Her face broke into a sad smile. "I've never…" She began, embarrassed by what she was about to admit. "I've never felt like this before. I've never felt lost."

His grin widened and Harleen had the sneaking suspicion that they were somehow destined to do this little dance forever, or at least until one of them dropped dead. And Harleen figured at this point she wouldn't be the last one standing.

The Joker clenched his constrained fists hard, he wanted to laugh at her misfortune, to scare the pretty little thing off forever but he couldn't. He hated her, in a deep and raw kind of way. He wasn't suppose to be feeling any of the things that he was. Why did his stomach feel so funny whenever she was in the room? Why was it so hard to watch her fall apart? All the Joker really knew was that he wanted to kill her for making him feel the way he felt. And he would, he would kill her, but first she needed to think he was her only lifeline.

"I can help you beautiful."

Her blue eyes fluttered up to his, but she said nothing.

"I've heard that communication is key Harley." He said in a suddenly playful manner.

"Don't baby me J, I know how relationships work, I know how to express myself." She said, irked by how fast his mood always changed.

The Joker's grin took her breath away as his brain swirled around the word relationship. "Well, I guess frying someone's brains is definitely a good start at expressing yourself." He smiled in a way that Harleen had never before seen, and his eyes seemed to see right through her.

"I didn't fry your brain...after all you seem fine to me." Harleen challenged narrowing her eyes at him.

"Au contraire beautiful, you have managed to singlehandedly turn my mind to pudding."

"I wasn't the only one in the room ya know?" She tried, her accent slipping in.

"All I could see was you before the lights went out."

"I'm sorry." She said softly, allowing her guilt to get the best of her.

"I can tell. You wouldn't still be here if you weren't." He said, in a knowing way.

She studied his flawless face for a long moment. Enjoying the way his emerald eyes contrasted with his ghostly face, and deep red lips. He seemed so open in that very moment, so strangely vast and undiscovered, she felt as if she could see the universe in all its perfect entirety right there in his sinful gaze. Or that simply breathing the same air as him gave her all the power in the world. Then without warning his eyes clouded over, and if looks could truly kill she would have become mummified in that exact moment.

"And Harley?" He growled and Harleen slide further away from him, completely startled by the swift change in his demeanor. "Don't you dare do something like this again."

Harleen was angry that he dared to think he had any right to threaten her, but she knew better than to voice her discontent, instead she chose to respond to his anger in the opposite manner, to treat him the way he treated her. "Okie dokie: I, Harleen Quinzel, solemnly swear to never again try to turn your brain to pudding, Puddin'." She held her right hand up in mockery, and bite her lip trying to hold back her giggles at the evident annoyance on his pale face.

"Good girl."

Author's note: I know, that definitely wasn't my best piece of writing, I'm just trying to get back into the swing of it all... I'm sorry if it was hard to follow. Anyhow, I really missed writing these two, I've just been crazy busy with school… and friends…and trying to decide if I have a crush or not... and just life in general. I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless! I'll try and have the next chapter out within the next week or so :)))) Also, I hope this chapter significantly covered how Harleen is really struggling between the person she was and the person she's becoming. I'm trying not to rush her and J's relationship so let me know if you think things are moving too fast, however, that being said I do have a direction for this story still and it's not all sunshine and love. Feel free to let me know what you think so far!