Author's note: Hello, hello. Long time no see...I've missed this, I've missed you guys, I've missed Harley and J. I don't know, I just randomly got some inspiration and started writing. The direction of the story has changed a little, but trust me it'll be good ;). Sorry it's been soooo freaking long, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. And without further ado….

Three days after the incident in the convulsive therapy room Harleen was requested in Doctor Arkham's office. It was a particularly dreary day, where freezing drops of rain tumbled from the grey, lifeless sky coating the cold, ominous exterior of Arkham Asylum. Though the bone chilling water did little to pull Harleen out from the haze she had entered into those short days before. Honestly, she did not know what was wrong with her, or at least she was too stubborn to acknowledge whatever it was that she was feeling. The weekend had done little to clear her mind, in fact she had spent the majority of it stuck in daydreams. Highly inappropriate daydreams, and the more she had tried not to think about a certain someone the more she thought of him. Everytime she had glanced into a mirror that perky laugh would bubble out from somewhere deep in her chest.

She had simply been grateful for the arrival of Monday and the chance to get straight back to work. And currently, Arkham's unexpected request for her presence was intervening with her limited amount of time allocated to Gotham's worst.

Harleen did not bother knocking before entering Arkham's office: wanting to get this meeting out of the way as quickly as possible.

"Doctor Arkham?" She spoke, spotting a slender man hunched over a bookshelf in the corner of the large room.

"Who is it?" The man said, without bothering to look up from the publications before him.

Harleen did not hold back an eyeroll at this. 'Typical...the man probably heard a female voice and couldn't even bother to look.' "Doctor Quinzel." She said, in a particularly bubbly voice that barely concealed her annoyance.

"Ahhh yes... Doctor Quinzel it is such a pleasure to finally meet you." He at last glanced up, before quickly retreated away from the books and sticking out a shaky hand, which Harleen shook hesitantly. He held on long enough to make it uncomfortable and her joints ached to pull out of his grip.

"Actually, we've met before Doctor Arkham." 'Three times.' Harleen thought bitterly.

"Oh excuse me, I apologize." He said in a tone that let Harleen know that he wasn't actually sorry at all. "Actually, you do seem familiar, after all...it would be hard to forget someone so…" Arkham's dull eyes traveled their way up Harleen's body lecherously, and Harleen felt heat rise one her pale cheeks. However, she it did not happen out of embarrassment like it normally would have. Instead she felt rage, pure red hot rage.

Shifting, Harleen sharply cleared her throat and Arkham's eyes were drawn away from her body and back up to her eyes. Smiling sweetly, Harleen asked. "Is there a reason you called me down her Doctor Arkham?" She wasn't sure where her sudden bravery was coming from or where the shy intern had gone, but luckily there was little time to ponder these questions as Arkham began speaking again.

"Uhh yes." He began, not used to being interrupted. "I simply wanted to congratulate you, young lady." He said, with a lewd curve of his lips.

Harleen tried not to roll her eyes at the end of the statement: she was more distracted by the first part at any rate. "Congratulate me? On what?"

"Harleen… I can call you that right?" Arkham pestered.

Harleen simply nodded, wanting him to just get to the point.

"Wonderful." He smiled again. "You can call me Jeremiah if you like."

Harleen clenched her fists. "Alright, Jeremiah." She smiled softly, playing along with his game. "What are you congratulating me on?"

"Well, the Joker of course."

"Oh." Harleen said softly, closing her eyes as the guilt she'd been consumed by deepened.

"Oh? My dear girl? That's all you have to say?" He challenged, unaware that he had struck a cord.

Harleen remained quiet for a long moment. "Thank you...I guess?"

"I'm just glad someone had the balls to do it." He laughed and it was sharp and disjointed.

"What do you mean?"

Arkham's laughing ceased. 'Damn the girl asked too many questions.' "I mean, for the past several years, hell since the Joker's first came to Arkham I've been trying to convince those...those book worms to do something like what you did."

"Well, why didn't you just do it then?" Harleen spoke, her voice harsh. Annoyed that she was being praised for what she had done to J.

Arkham stopped his rambling for a moment. "Well, I…" He began and in that moment Harleen understood. Everyone was scared of the Joker, even Arkham. All the Doctors in this goddamn place did nothing because they were cowards. And she should have been too.

"Thank you Doctor Arkham. I must be going." She said, merely as a means to silence her own thoughts. Swiftly, her heeled feet carried her out of Arkham's office, only to collide with Joan Leland.

"Doctor Quinzel." Joan said softly. "Are you alright?" She said, giving Harleen a perplexed look.

Harleen shook her head. "Wh-what? I mean yes, of course. I'm fine."

"Harleen." She tried again.

"What?" Harleen snapped, trying to get around Leland's small frame.

Leland looked stunned. "You just don't seem like yourself."

"Well, I'm fine." Harleen bite out, annoyed that this was the moment someone decided to pay attention to what she was feeling. Briskly, she pushed past Leland. "If you'll excuse me."

Leland turned and watched as the statuesque blonde briskly walked off down the white halls. Something was not right. She had never heard Harleen respond in such a harsh manner, and there was a strange look hidden inside her bright blue eyes, a look that Leland had only seen on one other person before. 'She's fine Joan, perfectly fine.' Leland reasoned with herself, pinching the bridge of her nose, before turning back to her own office.

There was panic rising in Harleen's chest. Of course, she had done what she did to J as a power move, but she had hoped it would stay quiet. 'If Arkham knows how many other people know too?' She didn't need this, she didn't. After all, it was easier for her to forget when less people knew. When it was a secret between the two of them and the several other nurses that happened to be in the room at that moment.

Harleen briskly retreated into the nearest restroom, wanting to avoid any prying eyes. Splashing cold water on her face, she barely had the time to glance at herself in the dull mirror before that perky, lethal laugh escaped from her lips. Quickly slapping a hand over her mouth Harleen closed her eyes, breathing softly while counting in her head as a means of gaining some sort of composure. '1...2...3…" Eventually she removed her hand from her mouth and found that the uncontrollable laughter had ceased. 'What's happening to me?' Harleen thought before glancing back up towards the mirror. She was taken aback by the person she saw: pale eyes wide and manic, beneath her thick glasses. Her pale skin, paler than ever before, contrasted immensely with the dark purple circles that had grown ever more darker since she had met him.

"I'm fine. Perfectly fine." Harleen tried, repeating the phrase softly towards the images reflecting back at her. She giggled before again covering her quivering lips. The worst part of it all was that, despite the panic, she felt better than she had ever felt before.

Sometime later Harleen emerged from the bathroom, simply finding motivation in the fact that it was almost time for his session. However, her composure was ruined quickly as she began walking down the more crowded hallways of the Asylum. By now, she had concluded that people were indeed talking, especially since it concerned the Joker, she had assumed though, that the pests wouldn't allow her to hear what they had to say. No, instead she heard each and every one of their fervent whispers when she passed by the other doctors in the hall.

"Did you hear what she did?"

"Poor thing's practically begging for her own murder."

"That Harleen, she's gut some major guts, basically signed her own death warrant."

"Stupid, stupid girl."

And it was only a few weeks prior that Harleen would have believed all of them. Hell, if it were someone else in her place, had she never encountered the man invoking all the fuss, never met that arrogant, psychotic... beautiful, genius of a man, she would have been nodding along with them. Would have been busy feeling sorry for the pathetic young, blonde that had thought she could escape his wrath. However, it was all too confusing now. It felt like she had fallen into an impossibly dark lake, and somehow, the solution was no longer to simply swim back to the surface. No, now the only option was to swim deeper into the blackness. Drowning was the only cure, and it made absolutely no sense whatsoever. 'I spent my whole goddamn life chasing after what made sense, but god...none of it makes any sense to me now.'

The truth was, he had ruined her. Completely and utterly destroyed her. Yet she couldn't find the energy to stop it, or even the energy to care. Perhaps, it was because some part of her was holding onto the hope that she had ruined him just as much. And maybe it was simply because she felt more alive than she had in her whole life. Somehow, he made it possible for her to see the sanity within the insanity of it all.

The clink of the metal door alerted the Joker of Harleen's presence, however, he chose to wait to speak until after her heard the heavy thud of the guards graceless feet leave through the open door. He rolled his neck in relief when he no longer had to hear the unsavory sound of their mouth breathing.

On the other hand, Harleen had meant to allow him the chance to speak first, but once she saw him, the notion disappeared like a puff of warm air in the dead of winter. "Good afternoon J." She said, the obvious delight in her voice making her cringe.

If the Joker had noticed, which she was sure he did because nothing escaped his notice, he chose not to acknowledge it. Instead answering in an equally engaging tone. "Hello beautiful. How are you on this marvelous Monday?"

Harleen's eyebrows scrunched together, a subconscious habit of hers that the Joker had become quite fond of for several reasons. First, she truly was the most stunning thing he had ever laid eyes on... well that and the glorious sight of destruction and blood and human carnage… but that was beside the point. Her little habit gave him so much power: no matter how uninterested she pretended to be during their sessions he knew better, it was an obvious human weakness, and oh did he love exploiting others weakness.

"I'm fine." Harleen said slowly. She was unsure of his current state, she hadn't seen him behaving so cordial in a while. She especially didn't expect this after what she had done to him just three days prior. 'Maybe it was too much for him.' She found herself panicking slightly, at the mere thought of having destroyed any part of his gloriously wicked mind. "How do you feel J?"

"Shockingly enough Harls" He paused, for a moment, letting the play on words sink in with a wicked glint in his olive eyes. "I feel superb." He smiled like a cat.

"About anything in particular?" She tried.

"What can I say Harley? I'm just passionate about life." He saw her confusion at this statement and it only served to please him more.

"J be serious." Harleen could not figure out what had gotten into him, he should be angry, or at least making the conversation more challenging to her. It scared her the most when he got into moods such as this because he was so completely unpredictable.

"I am kitten. Deadly." He barely contained the giggle that threatened to erupt from his throat.

"Please Puddin'." She said, hoping that his newly devised nickname would soften his resolve.

He smirked, amused by her use of the name. "I've never been very fond of seriousness."

"Fine, fine: we don't have to be serious, just tell me what's on your mind."

His eyes avoided her gaze for a long moment before returning to her. "You." He kept his face neutral, he could not lie that he was curious to see what her response would be.

"Oh?" she said, trying to conceal her pleasure.

His smile grew lethal.

"Anything specific." She asked, fighting with herself over putting an end to the conversation.

"Just how those lips would feel against mine."

She blushed deeply and it made a soft purring sound emit from his throat. "I'm your Doctor J, ya can't say stuff like that." Despite how pathetic it sounded, Harleen longed to comply with his statement. There was just something so completely magnetic about him. He was everything she wanted to be and hadn't even known until the moment their eyes had made contact in that small white room. His confidence, and ease was something she wanted so badly it made her ache. But she couldn't kiss him. She was his Doctor dammit. Where had her self control gone? She hated how much he affected her.

His velvety growl interrupted her thoughts. "I've always found life to be more fun if you don't over think things Doctor." He's silver grill flashed in the flourescent lights of the room.

"Well, I guess that's the difference between us."

"That isn't a no." The more he thought about, the more he did want to feel her pink lips against thought of all that life, all that blood, everything that was hidden behind the mask that was Harleen Quinzel made his mouth water. He just wanted to taste her. Maybe even just to prove to himself that his imagination was far better than the women before him. "Come on Harls, just one teeny little kiss. We can always do this the hard way."

"What's the hard way?" She breathed.

"I'll untie myself."

She didn't question his ability, she could hear the threat in his smooth voice, but she couldn't stop herself from challenging him. She truly was a masochist. "Okay. If you can untie yourself, you can have one teeny little kiss." She made sure to let the last part of the sentence curl up in a similar way to how he had said it.

The laugh that came from him next made Harleen's insides tingle, and his grin set her on fire.

The Joker, of course, made a scene out of escaping the straightjacket, pretending to struggle. And Harleen couldn't help but giggle over his antics, the man was crazy. And if she were honest with herself, she was more than slightly upset that he wouldn't be able to remove the straightjacket. Suddenly, though she was shocked to see his impossibly pale hand emerge from its confinements.

She wanted to be mad. She should have been mad. Or scared at the very least. He had tricked her, there was no other way he could have gotten out of the jacket on his own. But at that moment she couldn't care less. At that moment, she didn't feel like Doctor Harleen Quinzel, she felt like she was floating. Floating in a pool of desire, drowning in it and she needed his air to breath again.

"Would you look at that?" He said in an over dramatic tone.

"Would you look at that." She said gently, almost as a whisper. Harleen knew she was playing with fire at this point, but she didn't care. She loved the burn.

From there, it all occurred as if they were in slow motion, trapped in their very own moment of time. His hands were gently cradling her neck. And then he was leaning in. And before Harleen could really comprehend how they had gotten to this point her mind was shutting down. She couldn't even remember to breath, let alone form comprehensible thoughts. His lips were so close, getting even closer even. She felt his hot breath against her lips and soon realized that he was not the only one leaning in. 'Oh my god don't kiss him' Was the last thought she had before he growled gently and she threw all caution to the wind. She needed him, needed his lips to be against hers like she needed air to live. But suddenly she realized that his hands were squeezing harshly against her throat: stealing her breath away in a different way. 'He's going to kill you Harleen' Was the only conclusion that floated into her mind, yet she could not find the reason to care. Just as she was about to give up completely the door to the therapy room burst open, loudly banging against the white tiled walls.

Gasping for air, Harleen was startled to see that the Joker was already back in his seat, the straightjacket positioned around his shoulders once more.

"Hello boys." J greeted happily, looking far too smug.

"Shut up Clown." One of the guards spat, forcefully grabbing onto the Joker and ripping him from his chair.

The Joker merely laughed as they began dragging him from the room.

"Wait!" Harleen managed to say, louder than she thought would be possible. "It wasn't his fault!"

"Not his fault!?" Howled the same guard. "He murdered them Doctor Quinzel!"

"Wh-what?" Harleen stuttered out. 'What the hell is he talking about.'

"The nurses, Williams and Green!"

Harleen still struggled to understand. 'This isn't about him getting free?'

"The ones who helped with your little science experiment last Friday. He killed them." The guard said gruffly, annoyed with Harleen's evident confusion.

"No." She shook her head, blonde locks moving in disbelief. "You didn't J." She said slowly, allowing her pale blue eyes to study his beautiful face. "How do you know it was him?" She questioned.

"Believe me Doctor, only one man is sick enough to have done this. They were murdered in the conversion therapy room, their brains are completely fried."

Harleen's eyes drifted towards the Joker at the last part of the sentence as the realization dawned on her. Suddenly, his mood was explainable. And what a fool she had been, believing that he wouldn't hurt her. "J?" She whimpered.

"How could I have done it Doctor? My hands are tied." He said obviously relishing in the game he was playing. His statement rang as a definite challenge: he wanted her to tell the guards that he had escaped, that he had done it.

"Oh my god." Was all she could managed to whisper under her breath as her hand went to her mouth.

His broke into the breath taking smile and he began laughing. "Come on Harls, why so serious?"

Author's note: I hope you guys liked it...sorry about any spelling errors. Yeek I just wanted to get this chapter out because it's been so long...I'll try to get another chapter out this month, college life is just so busy. Trust me though, I've got a lot more story to write...and I might even write a few one shots. Well see, I want to get better at my smut writing (lol) especially because I plan on eventually getting this story there, so may as well improve before I have to write it here. Thank you sooo freaking much for all the reviews, favorites, and follows it means a lot to me, and I just love you you guys so much. Anyway, I hope you liked it, and I'm real excited to get the next chapter out, J and Harley need to actually have that kiss after all! Also who's POV would you like me to start out with next chapter?