Chapter 2 – Going Through a Stage

Harleen checked over her appearance in the mirror. She had to leave for work soon but she wanted to make sure she was dressed to perfection.

After that fateful day she'd gone home and researched from every angle all she could about the Joker. He seemed to have an affinity for purple so she'd chosen to wear a violet dress shirt today. Her pencil skirt was just the slightest bit shorter than normal; she wanted to see if her advantages were suited to a madman as well even though her better judgement said she should wear slacks. The black heels she wore were at least slightly shorter than usual. As determined to prove herself as she was she had taken Arkham's advice to be careful. Heels were hard to run in.

Satisfied she blew a kiss to the photo of her father and the one of her mother beside it asking them to wish her luck and then she was on her way. Nerves and excitement mixed inside her stomach, twisting it so much she skipped breakfast. Like a kid counting down the hours to Christmas morning, she watched the clock for ten thirty, the allotted time when she would start her first ever session, the beginning of her successful future. She hardly even paid attention to her other patients she was so distracted. Then the anointed hour arrived.

"Thanks Gregory. You always do such a good job of making sure I'm snug in my rug." Joker snarled in a breathy tone that implied aloofness. Really he was thinking of the best way to thank Greg when he inevitably got out. What was a poetic death for being bound too tightly? A torture wrack maybe? But that would be so hard to get and he was already having so much trouble contacting his people outside these castle walls.

He saw the look cross the security guard's eye that suggested he wanted to hit him but knew the coward wouldn't. At least not while Arkham was still in charge. The big boss didn't have a whole lot of tolerance for guards turning out to be just as bad as the cops he was 'saving' his patients from. But Joker had already cracked that egg; boss man would easily slip into violent habits given the right push. Everyone was capable of it.

Except maybe Batman. He was a weird exception. Okay, granted he did do the violence. But the no killing thing, that was weird. No matter how many times Joker tried to pin all the people he killed on Batman for showing him mercy the masked thug never seemed to want to beat his head in until he ceased to be, barring when he broke his teeth. But even then, he still hadn't killed him. What was up with that?

Joker's inner monologue was interrupted as his guards returned with his newest victim. Seemed old boss man never wanted to keep chatting with him for more than a few sessions. He was heartbroken.

But his aloof mental theatrics were disturbed when he saw the woman entering his interrogation cell, cause that's what this place was. Hell, they'd even strapped him to the chair and put cuffs on his ankles and wrists. What sort of therapist can't restrain their guest with words?

He rolled his eyes exaggeratedly at this one. Blonde hair in a neat bun, heels going click clack on the floor, the pencil skirt. It was revolting.

"Hello Joker. I'm your new psychiatrist." She greeted. She had an accent but he couldn't place it. She'd worked hard to hide it he noted but it was still there, just under the surface. How boring trying to assimilate. Deciding that he shouldn't scoff at a new toy, Joker broke into his widest grin. Every time he smiled Greg flinched so at least he had that but she sincerely smiled back. What a fool.

"And who is the latest journalist come to interrogate every bit of juicy gossip out of the star of the show?" He gestured as theatrically as his handcuffed hands allowed which considering the restraints strapping him to his chair, was a dip of his head as he raised his forearms as far as the chains would permit gesturing to her. For the ditsy blonde she clued on pretty quick as to what he meant. He saw the recognition in her eyes as she assessed his words. Not that dumb. He was vaguely impressed.

"My name's Doctor Quinzel. From what I hear the other journalists haven't gotten a peep out of you." She replied playing along with his joke. He bared his teeth in a snarl somewhere between amusement and irritation; she couldn't butt in on his punchline. Not to mention she had offered her hand with her name only to realise he couldn't reach out far enough to take it. It would have been a perfect opportunity to see how she scared. She seemed to come to realise the restraints were limiting him beyond attempts at violence and she turned to the other guy; Joker couldn't remember his name. He liked to call him blank slate because of his vague expression.

"Do we really need to do this much?" She asked implying that she wanted to remove at least some of the restrictions. Joker watched her exchange with the guards with a curious eye. This dumb bitch was sympathetic. He could work with that. Ohhh, this would be a good joke.

She almost stomped her foot when Greg formerly denied her request to at least unstrap his arms. A frown creased her pretty little face as she took a seat opposite him dropping a familiar and gleefully small folder in front of her. She kept a firm grip on her pen.

"I'll try and get you more freedom next session." She promised in a hushed tone like she was sharing some delightful secret with him. He leaned in conspiratorially letting his manic grin spread.

"Like a trip out these walls doc?" He asked letting his mouth gape open playfully. Quinzel sat back like she'd been slapped. Of course she didn't want to deny him, she was going for a best buddies approach and saying no wasn't a good start.

Ha…! Ha…! Haaa…!" Joker's maniacal laugh filled the room. He saw from his squinted eyes that Greg had shifted his hold on his gun as if to prepare himself. Quinzel looked uncomfortable, swallowing a little when he tilted his head to the side to look at her clearly again. What was she even doing here? What was Arkham thinking? Oh, but he shouldn't look his gift horse in her pretty little mouth.

"Come on doc, show me them pearly whites! It was a good joke." He begged raising his arms so they sat against his chest from their limited movement, emphasising with jazz hands since it was all he could do. She smiled but it was a polite one that annoyed him changing his grin to a sneer in a split second. She tried to look professional by shuffling the rather blank papers in front of her, hiding her apprehension at the difference.

"So Joker…what am I to call you? You're not going to give me a name like with the others are you?" She asked changing tact. He dusted his tongue along his lips sitting back in his chair and assessing her with a tilted head and an annoyed expression. She faltered, only slightly but he saw it. Was this actually a good joke or a bad one?

"How about star of the show? Trump card? Maybe Clown Prince?" He listed off several other titles biting his tongue slightly to hide his amusement when she raised her eyebrows and gave him the expression a mother gives a disobedient child who isn't being too naughty. Oh, she was going to be fun.

"Well, if you won't give me a name that I can tack Mr on the front of to be professional I'm going to have to call you Mr J." She declared scribbling something down on her blank slate in the folder. Joker kept a stoic expression though he felt annoyance bubble inside of him but also something close to humour. That was more irritating.

"Well that's hardly fair Quin-zel." He began emphasising his pronunciation of her name in a playful way. He stretched his mouth like an actor preparing to perform, chewing over the word and deciding if he liked it. She was patient through it all, even smiled a little. There we go, he was entertaining her. That was a start.

"I can't have you giving me a nickname without giving you one in return. But what can I do with Quin-zel. Quinz. Quinzy." Again he earned that patient adoring expression. Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake. But did he gobble it up or throw it at someone's face?

"Well how about Harleen. Anything you want to do with that?" She provided in a friendly manner. This drew a genuine chuckle out of Joker, how could it not? Oh, this toy was made for him. There was too much irony in that name. Delight swelled in his chest making him lean in again, drawing her in with excited eyes. Just a little closer and she'd have his secret; oh, she'd feel like she'd accomplished so much in this first little session.

"Do your friends call you Harley?" He asked. She had that vacant fish out of water expression that confirmed he'd achieved what he wanted. Ohhh, it was almost too easy.

"Well I don't have many…they call me Harleen." She corrected realising she had lost control of the session. A playful wink of the tip of his tongue between his teeth while he grinned helped her understand he'd intended this. She really did have to be careful.

Sitting back in her chair she tried to ignore the way he watched her. Joker made her feel like the lamb in front of the wolf; something she found terribly exhilarating and she shouldn't have admitted that to herself. Wanting to regain the upper hand she took a deep breath and checked her notes for the questions she had wanted to ask on their first short session in an attempt to get him to open up. She needed to show promise right from the get go.

"You like jokes?" She asked like they were making small talk over a dinner. Joker blinked rapidly, part exaggeration part genuine puzzlement and curiosity over where exactly she was going with this tactic. He showed her that snarling smile again.

"It's in the name." He replied casually sitting back again and biding his time.

"What's your favourite joke?" The question was so…innocent, so bizarre that he was honestly surprised. Aside from the enigma that was Batman, he hadn't been shocked a great deal in his life. But this stupid little doctor had asked him such a benign question. He ran his tongue along his teeth as he digested it and took it seriously. Or at least appeared to. Batman? No, that joke wasn't finished. He couldn't choose that one yet. Society? Corruption?

Harleen noted that his playful portrayal had been broken. There was a keen mind under the surface, one she had to be wary of. But like a child he could be distracted and begin opening up to vulnerabilities. At least she thought that's what was happening.

"There's just too many…how about this one. Did you hear about the actor who fell through the floorboards?" He spoke up after a long minute where is gaze shifted, like he was aware he needed to be guarded with what he said. Harleen shook her head with an interested expression, ready to laugh at whatever he said.

"He was just going through a stage!" Joker finished it with his constrained jazz hands enticing a giggle from Harley's lips. He frowned immediately after seeming to have changed his mind. "Nah, not right." He went back to whatever swirl of thoughts had kept him silent. She itched to pry his mind open but with someone who had done their best to turn her predecessors into emotional wrecks she had to be patient.

"A survivor from your theme park said you were talking about setting up a good joke for Batman. The bombs, the deaths. They're punchlines, right?" She pressed on earning that same tilted head expression from earlier. The one that told her she'd done something he had not expected. But this was something she had anticipated. She was used to being underestimated.

By the end of their first session she had learnt nothing of value, not anything she could put in her report anyway. But she made notes in a personal journal later on about what kind of jokes he liked, her suspicions of his opinions of Gotham. The way his expression changed and covered his true intentions. He definitely was a performer.

She was completing the finishing touches on her official report when Arkham popped in to see how she went.

"Can I request we remove the restraints next week?" She asked. She wanted to have daily sessions too but she knew that was out of the question. Especially when she had nothing to show for it just yet. But she knew under the surface was a mind that would be fascinating to observe.

"Harleen, he stabbed a doctor in the eye. We've been considering a straight jacket for some time." Jeremiah elaborated patiently clearly thinking she was still naive to his dangers. That's what the guards were there for, right?

"Can we at least unbind his arms? He can stay strapped in the chair but the cuffs and the arm restrictions will hardly make him open up." She tried to rebuke. Arkham winced in disagreement that freedom of movement would make him more cooperative. "Please Jeremiah. I think getting him to trust me, to think I'm helpless is the key here. He was beginning to let his guard down with my indirect approach." It wasn't entirely a lie. Arkham breathed slowly through his nose.

"Okay. But if he lunges at you, listen to whatever your guards tell you to do. Let them do whatever they have to, to restrain him." Arkham relented. Quinzel didn't even bother with her professional mask letting a delighted grin spread across her face, almost squealing like the spoiled princess whose father had relented. She would show them what she could do.

"You're in a very bad mood today Gregory." Joker observed as he was roughly shoved into his chair. He chewed the inside of his lip once they had restrained him again. He still hadn't managed to get a message out. It was aggravating. He had not anticipated this level of security at a nuthouse or how well they conducted their background checks before hiring. But this woman was his plan C…maybe plan D…eh, details.

Harley entered the interrogation room with a polite little cough that didn't match the stern gaze she gave Greg. Joker soon learnt why he was in a bad mood as the guard was ordered to undo the top restraints and take off both sets of cuffs. He stared at Quinzel in genuine surprise again.

"Told you I'd sort it out." She said playfully with a wink causing Joker to break into his wide grin that always unsettled people around him.

"So Harley has scout's honour." He purred making sure to look as praising as possible as he watched her sit down across from him while rubbing at his wrists. She beamed with pride, it was sickening. Rolling his eyes he barely even finished his snarl before he'd shot forward, grabbing her wrist now that he was free.

She gasped in alarm; Greg stepped forward and started shouting at him while blank slate aimed his rifle. Her warm skin became rigid under his touch but she held her pen in her other hand tightly almost as if she were bracing herself to stab him. Good instincts.

Satisfied that he had startled her he sat back, sparing a hostile glance for Greg briefly before breaking out in his signature laugh. Greg seemed tempted to shoot him. He wanted to dare him for a brief second but was distracted.

"It's okay, he's just playing." Harleen soothed, trying discreetly to get the guards to back down, gazing at them with warning in her eyes. Joker sneered in annoyance but got an impatient eyebrow in response. "If you keep this up they won't let me have you unrestrained." She advised. Joker's sneer turned to disgust. What was this pathetic, obedient thing?

"I don't know what my file says doll face but I hope you know I don't exactly stop doing what I want because people said 'no'." He explained. His tone was warning and predatory. A flash of something went through her eyes; was that admiration? A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Did she want to be a bad little girl?

"You must have played by the rules once. If you didn't I'd have a bigger file on you." Was that a joke? Was she playing with him? Ha! Oh, this was precious. Don't play with the big boys darling.

"Was that your segue into asking about my past doc?" He taunted back. He expected she'd look guilty at being caught out but instead she shrugged her shoulders in a 'worth a shot' way that was thick with nonchalance.

"Your skin is very cold. Do you need an extra jacket?" She observed rubbing at her wrist that was still a little red from how hard he had gripped her. It might bruise.

"A straight one perhaps." He said with a grin inciting a small giggle from her.

"Has it been like that since whatever bleached your skin?" She asked not letting him derail their conversation this time. He kept a passive mask on as a flare of annoyance shot through him. These damn shrinks always wanted the same answers. This would be where he'd turn it all around, drag out her deep, dark secrets like the others so he could tear it all apart and smash it back together again. But he might need her adoration.

The unfortunate part about feigning an emotion when your mind is a boiling pot of insanity is that sometimes you start feeling it or at least your train of thoughts decide to abandon your carefully laid out intentions and follow the wrong track. So when he tried to look like he was seriously considering her question he started to actually do so. Had his skin always been this cold? Maybe. Memories bubbled up like the vat of acid but before he could concentrate on them they popped. Some were nightmares of a batlike beast hunting him down confirming that of these recollections, some were fake. Which were the real ones, which weren't? Different names and words danced across his mind like butterflies.

The acid had burned. Then it had itched. Then itched and burned. It had been excruciating. But he guessed that happened when your skin peeled away to reveal something new. Choking on it was worse. Sometimes his lungs still felt like they were on the verge of collapse.

He was staring at his hand like it wasn't his own. Turning it this way and that. She had expected him to deflect, felt cautious because he hadn't. But that was drowned out by anticipation when those cold eyes flicked up to meet hers from below his lashes. He was hiding it but he was annoyed. She tried to appear open and friendly, smiling pleasantly when their gazes met.

It helped him come to a decision as, slowly so Greg didn't freak out, he held out the hand he had grabbed her with. A silent offer. He watched her closely; she was like a cautious deer, carefully taking the bait. Her soft fingers ran over his skin searching for warmth. Searching for a smudge of make-up maybe. When her hand obstructed the guards' view he made sure to carefully stroke her wrist with one of his fingers like he was apologising. A blush rose to her cheeks telling him he was successful and she pulled back with an awkward laugh. He smiled to her in what he thought might be a charming way though he wanted to split his face into one of those manic grins to declare triumph. He couldn't wait for the punchline for this one.

"Because you're such a nice doctor…I'll let you know that as far as I remember, my skin has always been cold." He advised her cautiously eyeing the men in the room. If he worked slow enough, tantalising her, he could convince her to request their guards not attend. Something that would make this so much easier. Her eyes lit up in triumph, not even a hint of doubt at why she had gotten information so easily when all the others had failed. Didn't even consider if she was being lied to, though he was a master liar. Always a little truth sprinkled on top. That made for the best lie cake.

"So you don't recall some of your past?" She questioned. A shock of irritation went through him but he was also amused at her terrier behaviour. Ohhh, she could smell blood.

Joker exaggerated a playful response of 'caught you out for tricking me' letting his manic grin take over. She didn't even notice the desire to kill in his eyes. What a horrible supporting cast.

"Oh Harley, Harley, Harley. You've gotta buy me dinner first before I spill my intimate secrets during pillow talk." He teased earning that blush again. She swept some of her blonde hair behind her ear and side eyed their guards. There we go; he'd planted the seed for privacy. Now he'd just have to nurture it.

Joker was evasive for the rest of the session but when she reported to Arkham that she had learned he had some form of amnesia Harleen was filled with pride. She had learned more from the man in two sessions than her colleagues combined, though that wasn't saying much. But it was a start and a promising future.

((A/N: Thanks ImAOlicitySuperFan for the review. I'll try not to take too long between updates. n_n

This was a fun chapter to write. I don't know if I'm doing the Joker justice but I really enjoy trying to get into his head. He's a very interesting character and has been my favourite DC villain for the longest time. It's tricky to try and find the correct balance of someone so chaotic but I've always felt that there's a very calculative mind behind the 'insanity'. Like, he always has several plans in motion and he might not even use any of them as he follows his whim. I hope I did him justice. I also hope I'm doing Harleen justice.

Per usual, constructive criticism is cherished.))