Again. I do not own these characters. I guess you may have noticed that my Harleen Quinzel isn't the typical version, but that is because I am not a real big fan of the original. But she will not always be as much of a bitch as she is right now. I guess that's all I have to say atm…On with the show.

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While the man was still on the floor, Harleen wiggled the knife back and forth until she could pry it free from her desk. She tossed it into a desk drawer before offering her hand to the man on the floor.

"You're quite young to be advising people on all stages of life, Ms. Quinn," the man said before taking her hand and climbing to his feet.

"I've had all the classes and interned under the best. I know what I am doing."

"You know," a remaining chuckle escaped, "they say that the best teacher is experience. You…uh…you seem to be…lacking in that area, I'd bet."

"You don't know anything about me. I disprove of your condemning demeanor. I am not going to listen to this shit in my office," Dr. Quinzel spat and then tried to regain her composure.

"You're…uh…you're right. I don't know you. But I do know your type." The man pointed at her and continued his evaluation. "You're the type that has a straight spine even in the most tranquil of occasions. You. Don't. Know. How. To. Smile." He mocked a smile and ran his fingers along the scars on his cheeks. "What a shame that is when you have such a lovely name."

"Names have nothing to do with personality. I'd wager that your name would put in mind a very different person than the one standing before me. Just give it a go. What's your name?"

"Jack. Jack Napier. It's a pleasure to meet you." He bowed while keeping his face and his smile trained on her.

"See. Jack. I was right. That's a very common name whereas you are anything but."

"Ms. Quinn…you disappoint me so. You fail to realize the weight a name can have on a child. And you also seem to have classified me, using only my face, to designate me as 'anything but common.' I'm sure that your colleagues would be very proud to see your shortcomings and your general-eye-zations." Jack stretched out the words in hopes to increase its impact.

"That's Doctor and Quinzel. My name is not Ms. Quinn as you have dubbed me. Your actions have shaped my opinions of you. I won't deny that they did however have a little help from your appearance. Those scars can't help but to alter one's life."

"I see that you are not a person that believes that such things can be readily overcome." He licked his lips. "I like that. It means that you at least have some thought behind this cold, hard, bitch façade that you have used as a shield." He got close to her face. She thought that she could see hints of green in his hair. "What's the matter, toots? Was no one taking you seriously?" He laughed madly.

"I believe that you are here to talk about you and not to talk about me," said Harleen, blocking his attempts to get in her head.

"It's no fun to just blather on about me. It's much more fun to share." He donned a serious demeanor. "After all…sharing is caring." His laughs brought him to sitting on the couch, rolling from side to side.

"I only care so far as it gets the job done." The ice within Harleen's heart displayed itself. "Now let's talk about those scars."