Madness is a disease. Careful you don't breathe it in.

Chapter 3.

Live And Let Die.

When my eyes opened, I could see stars. I blinked, hard.

Nope, still there.

Okay, I was outside.

How did I get outside?

A violent shiver rocked me.

Aftershocks, Psychologist Harleen supplied.

Yowza.

My skin felt cold. I raised my head, which made the world twirl and spill like I was on the tilt-a-whirl. I stretched out my arms, feeling. Concrete on my right side. Thin air on the other.

I scrambled back. I'd been lying on the edge of a sixty foot drop.

I was on the roof of Arkham Asylum.

Memories flickered. A wide, red smile. Unnatural green hair. My brain pulsed with the pressure. I gripped the sides of my head to slow the roar before I realised the roaring was coming from outside my skull.

Hovering overhead was a shiny black helicopter, blades ripping up the air. A rope ladder swung back and forth beneath it like a trapeze. My vision came into full focus and I almost choked. The Joker stood with his back to me, clover-green hair bright against the Gotham sky. Somehow he'd acquired his trademark purple greatcoat, the gusts from the helicopter agitating the hem. And between him and the helicopter? The black figure that haunted the same skyline.

Batman.

"Let her go, Joker." Batman's voice was gravel on ice, lifting the tiny hairs on my arms. It occurred to me then that I'd never actually heard him speak before. "This is between us."

Strange day. Lots of new voices.

"Sounding a little possessive there, Batman. Someone should really teach you how to share." The Joker taunted, pacing, totally at ease despite the imminent danger. He didn't feel fear. He thrived on it. You could almost feel him breathing it in. It was the gasoline that lit the fire behind his eyes.

I suppressed a nervous laugh, meaning what came out was somewhere between a giggle and a snort. I slapped a hand over my mouth.

They turned to look at me. The Joker was grinning, pleased he'd amused his audience and Batman… had a mask on.

"Sorry," I squeaked.

The Joker cackled. "'Sorry'." He mimicked me. He turned back to Batman. "What do you say, Bats? Shall we accept her apology?"

Batman ignored him. "Another hostage? You're getting predictable, Joker." He was losing patience, his fingers flexing. Clearly, Batman didn't enjoy the Joker's foreplay. "I'd tell you to face me like a man, but we both know you don't have it in you."

You realise they're distracted. Right now would probably be your best chance to get gone.

I began crawling toward the exit, walking still beyond me. My worn muscles shook with effort.

"Harley-doll, stay where you are." His voice was frozen menace, slipping through his teeth like helium escaping from the canister.

I froze, not daring to look.

Satisfied I had obeyed, he continued. "See, that's the difference between you and I, Bats." He drew out the 's' in a hiss. "You can't shame me. To shame requires that someone have shame to be exploited. Your problem there—" He dipped a hand into his pocket. Batman started toward him. "I don't have any. For example."

There was an audible click, then the roof between them exploded.

On instinct I curled into a ball. A wave of melting heat washed over me as shards pelted my back. Smoke filled my nostrils, making me gag.

A cold hand yanked me out of my hedgehog, bringing me face to face with the narrowed eyes of the Joker. I might've been delirious, but it looked like he gave me a once-over.

But that would've made no sense because the next thing he did was press a gun to my temple.

He started backing us slowly toward the helicopter, my back flush against his chest, his eyes fixed on Batman's prone figure. I had no choice but to lean on him to stay upright. I was coughing, my eyes streaming. My hair had come loose, the wind whipping strands across my face. My lips felt numb. I should've been terrified. My whole body should've been trembling with the urge to run.

A funny thing happened instead. My heartbeat, instead of speeding up, began to slow down. The electricity must've done something to my brain because where there should be fear, there was…calm.

Possible delirium. Psychological overload has been known to cause mental retreat.

Well, that would explain why I feel like laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing…

I felt my body relax, tension draining away like so much smoke. Ironically, the Joker tensed.

I was confusing him.

It satisfied me.

"He's right, you know." My voice was calm, conversational.

The Joker paused. I could almost hear my words rolling around in his head.

"Oh yeah…?" He drew out the word, his grip tightening. Either he was interested in what the therapist with a death wish had to say, or he was warning me.

We had reached the helicopter. The Joker pointed the gun at me, gesturing for me to climb the swinging ladder.

"After you." He inclined his head, his teeth glinting in the same light that rippled down the barrel of the gun pointing squarely at my forehead.

I began to climb, gymnastic training kicking in as I wrapped my hands around the bars.

The Joker snorted impatiently behind me. "You didn't answer my question, Harley. What is dear old Bats right about?"

I'd be worried about having made him impatient, but then, he was gonna kill me anyway. "Hostages. It's predictable." Somewhere inside Psychologist Harleen was yelling at me. Secret Harleen sat on her.

"Well, I didn't realise I was dealing with an expert. Remind me to consult you next time." Despite the high wind, I heard him clearly. He was either amused or irritated. Or both.

"You do that." My voice was dreamy.

I reached the helicopter, pulling myself up. The bed of the bird titled and rolled beneath me like a ship. There were guys in there, but none of them moved to help, except for one dude with a dark beard and serious jawline—although he didn't help so much as grab me in a vice-like grip. I don't know where he thought I was going to go, exactly. When the Joker appeared, though, they jumped to his aid, pulling him to his feet and rolling the ladder back in.

He took over my captivity, the gun returning to its home against my temple as we stood perilously close to the edge to peer at the Bat below.

Batman groaned, pulling himself to his feet. Spiderweb cracks marked his suit.

The Joker leaned in, his cold cheek dangerously close to mine. For a moment, I thought he might bite me. "You've been real swell, Harley. How I hate a crier." His voice rung with past irritation as he recalled previous, more annoying hostages. Then he grinned. Far be it from the Joker to let anything ruin his escape night high. Nothing touched him, not really. It was all a big game of Russian Roulette—he who shoots first, wins. "Remind me to bring you along next time. Although." Click. He cocked the gun. "Perhaps not."

I didn't flinch. My breathing was slow, steady.

I don't know why. I just didn't think he would shoot me. We hadn't been playing long enough for the game to end yet.

He's going to shoot you. Psychologist Harleen.

Nah, I don't think so. Secret Harleen.

That's because you're an idiot.

And you're an obnoxious b—

"Last chance." Batman warned, but the explosion had knocked him for six. He was listing to one side. Jeez, talk about crappy gear. This guy was supposed to be down with the gadgets, but he hadn't figured out an explosion-proof suit?

"Ah, ah, ah, Batman. Do you really want to risk poor, sweet, innocent Dr Quinzel? If this birdy goes down, I'm afraid she comes with it." He took a step closer to the edge. I could feel the buttons on his coat through my shirt, he was standing so close. My previously slow heart stuttered. Because of the height. And the danger.

"Hiding behind a woman? You're pathetic." Batman called.

"Well that's sexist," I grumbled. One of the Joker's henchmen snorted.

The Joker laughed. I'd never get used to that sound. It was almost fascinating in its terrifying power. Like fear unleashed. You haven't tasted danger until you've heard Gotham's most dangerous psychopath amused.

"You know, Harley-doll, I'm almost sorry to do this." He muttered. To Batman, he called, "I'm not the one with the fundamental weakness you call a conscience. See how well it serves you now."

Batman had palmed wicked sharp batarangs, poised to throw, but he couldn't get a clear line on the Joker with me in the way. And if he went for the pilot, we'd all go down. But if the Joker got away, he'd wreak havoc on Gotham. Lose one life, for many? No contest.

"It was real nice meeting you, Mr Joker." A short giggle escaped me. "The highlight of my short career."

He turned me to face him, my back to the open air. It was cold after being pressed against his chest. His eyes were alive, grin stretched wide. I was a funny pawn in his game. I kind of liked it. It made a change to being treated like a delicate glass doll.

"Let's see you smile." He ordered.

I couldn't help the grin. He placed his tattooed hand over my mouth, replacing my own smile with his tattooed one.

"Perhaps I will keep you around, Doctor Quinzel." He purred. "But first…let's see if you can live for me."

He shoved me backwards, and I was falling, falling. I reached, my fingers pale spiders as I pinwheeled. His eyes were fixed on me, his smiling mouth a straight line.

I heard a rush of wings as the Batman dove for me, but he wouldn't be fast enough. As the ground rushed up to meet me my gymnastic brain surfaced and I rolled, bracing for the spine-shaking impact and channelling the energy into a forward run that took me to the edge of the roof.

The Joker's laugh pierced the night as the helicopter rose into the sky. Batman took one look at me before disappearing over the side of the building. A moment later his engine growled as he followed his priority.

I was alone, a smoking hole between me and my exit, bedlam beneath as the staff no doubt fought to regain control of Arkham.

My own laugh burst into the darkness, slowly disintegrating into sobs as pain and reality crashed through me, leaving me curled up and cold on the floor.

AN: A little shorter than the other Chapters, but it had to end there; there'll be another one up before the end of the week! I'm so grateful to anyone who has taken the time to read and, as always, I appreciate constructive criticism. Hope everyone's had a good weekend and that you're all loving this as much as I am-anyone else interested to see how Doctor Quinzel does after such a killer of a first day...?!