AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hello readers. As you may know, this section has been revised as well. I actually took out a lot of stuff so…previous fans of this lovely piece of work, take a gander but those that are new, please enjoy!
I. (it's already been a day since her last session with the Joker)
It was a grueling, rushed morning. Harleen had awakened very late, 8:46 to approximate, however, feeling thoroughly hurried in such little time. She could feel the loose ends of her mind unravel. She was hardly ever late, much less miss a day of work!
After having thrown on her clothes and not caring the brush her untamed hair, Harleen merely pulled it loosely into a messy ponytail, that sat lopsided on her neck and quickly began to brew her coffee as she applied a little powder on her face.
She decided not to clean her contacts and simply put her black rimmed classes on, adjusting them on the thin bridge of her nose, only for a minute, groaning loudly in frustration. She had completely forgotten she had a session with the Joker!
"Ahhh!" She said, scrambling for her briefcase in which Sebastian curled upon, looking up at her disdainfully.
"Get off, get off," She cooed angrily, shooing her pet from it.
"Ah," She freaked, looking at the time, and the disarray of cat hair decorating her black case, "do you really have to shed? Honestly."
She was flippant and thoroughly annoyed as she rushed the grab her keys from the counter. Her cat mewed quietly before she mustered up enough civilty to turn her cautious eyes back to the cat as she stood in the open door.
The cat bowl was empty, of course and Sebastian was terribly saddened by it being so, strutting around the glass bowl. Harleen, set her stuff down and fetched the bag of food beneath the sink counter, grumbling to herself.
"There," She said, after having fixed his breakfast, "happy? Mommy's gotta go!" She hissed hurridly, before patting his head.
II.
He sat idly around for almost forty five minutes. Sometimes he'd twiddle his thumbs, counting the ceiling lines one by one and humming gaily to himself a light tune. IT was song that he couldn't quite remember the words to, however, he continued to hum by soft memory.
The guards to his left, monitored him without speaking so much as a word. They looked, to him at least, as if made of wax, motioning no breaths in their heaving chest and not moving so much as an inch.
This was beginning to bore him…
"So, ah," He began, nonchantly, "any clue as to ah, as to where Doctor Quinzel is? Hmm?"
They didn't answer. Instead they moved not one inch and simply stared straight ahead of them. The simple fact of going unnoticed by these men was beginning to grate against his nerves.
"Not gunna answer me, are you"—
Suddenly the iron doors thrusted open loudly, inducing a loud bang against the adjacent wall from the entrance of the room.
The Joker's eyes immediately radiated towards the horrendous sound, and Harleen emerged. She was in disarray, her hair messy and tangled in a pony tail, however, her attire spoke entirely different: dressed in high waisted aqua rich skirt, and tucked within it was a vertically, aqua as well, stripped, short sleeved blouse. It clung snuggly to her physique and on her feet a pair of blue high heels.
She paid no attention to the crazed man whom stared at her from the bolted seat, however she did look to the gaurds, with a weary look before nodding at them. They dismissed themselves quietly.
"Well well well, someone decided to show"—
"Not now." She snapped, tucking a strand of her messy blonde hair behind her ear. She settled quickly into her seat and pulled out the previous sheets from the other day.
She waited till she comfortable, taking out a thermal coffee mug, and instead she scoffed at the medical records.
She was entirely not up for his antics as to answer a few simply common knowledge questions and being so that she was already running short upon their session's time, she quickly stuffed the sheets back into her briefcase, letting out a troubled groan.
The Joker watched her quickly do this, observing the annoyance in her movements.
"Screw this," She grumbled to herself, hearing his laughter crack finally.
"No tedious questioning I ah, hehe, presume?"
"I don't feel like asking you about that shit this morning." She responded, taking a swig of her coffee.
He came into a burst of laughter and Harleen shut her eyes. She really wasn't in the mood to meet with him today.
She supposed that her nerves were on wits end simply because she woke up too late and that itself ensued the annoying process of getting up, getting and dressed and speeding to work –not to mention that she had to catch every fucking red light in Clayton alone to make her usual routing routine. She was insanely bitter.
Harleen quickly reminded herself that the only way to talk to this vile thing was to make it seem as though he wasn't pushing her buttons but she was previously frazzled and doubted she'd be able to keep her cool today.
Harleen sighed, feeling suddenly disarrayed, not that she already wasn't but overwhelmed –yes, she thought, that was it. She was simply overwhelmed. She sipped her coffee, relishing it's taste.
"On the bright side," He said licking his lips as he stole a glance from her illustrious icy eyes, "You're looking good today, Qinzel. Tell me, babe, did I miss something the other, ah, the other day or did you get new glasses?" The Joker laughed.
"I woke up too late to have time to put my contacts in." She spoke quietly, trying to calm down from the frustration's high.
"Have you always had glasses-sah?"
"I've had them since I was nine but we're not discussing my condition we're"—
"Discussing me, blah blah blah," He mocked childishly, "you know, toots, I'm a rather…ah-boring person. I'd much rather talk about you."
Harleen then pulled out a little yellow notepad –if she wasn't going to elaborate more on his medical records then she'd better at least get some notes down during their session. She was scribbling down the date and time before noticing that her paper was overcast by a shadow. Her annoyed, icy stare met with his dark mysterious eyes. He cracked a devious smile.
"What exactly do you, ah, write down?" The Joker asked.
"Joker," She detested with a thin rigid line formed between her lips, "We are not discussing my job, my life, my looks, my anything! We are discussing you. Is that clear?"
"Oh feisty! Am I frustrating you?" He cackled loudly.
Harleen's cheeks suddenly blushed a vibrant red. Too bad she still preserveed enough self-restraint to keep her claws intact or else she wouldn't seriously considered cutting him a deeper smile. She was even finding breathing at a normal rate excruitiatingly hard but even more so trying to keep a calm and cool collected face about her angry features.
"So, babe," he licked his lips, "care to share, your ah, your morning with me? Maybe that relieve some of that, haha, that ahh"—
"Alright, you know, enough with the toots and babe and—erm whatever the hell else you call me by. I'm not your babe," She mocked, "I'm your Doctor"—
"Getting all worked again are we?" He hissed with laughter.
This was proving already enough for her tolerance in the morning. Harleen was in a very vulnerable condition, being that had been running late her nerves and self control was proving very intolerable the jokes he poke and prodded her with. She would have none of it. She coyly set it aside, giving him a most condescending smile.
"What would like to discuss with me?"
"My, my," He said, "such a vague question, care to ah, specify?"
This was completely, and utterly useless –why must he counter attack her freelancing nerves, to make everything seem so…frustrating? She wondered, trying to think of a valuable subject to conversate on.
"Look," She warned, " I am terribly sorry I'm late, and with that being said, I really don't feel like arguing with you. I simply want to talk. I don't care what subject we broaden upon but could you at least serve what little sanity I have left this morning some justice and make this session easy?"
"Alright , Doc,ah," he paused, licking the corner of his mouth, "Let's talk about the Bat. He's always interesting to ah, talk about."
Yes. She was well aware of the Batman. Even if her loft wasn't exactly in Gotham she was well aware of this vigilante. He begun to escalate in major news, all around the state, being that he was this symbol of justice, however, she couldn't remember the last time she'd heard of him, being that he was now on the run from the police for supposedly killing the DA of Gotham.
"Alright. What about him?"
"What about him? What do you mean what about him? He's simply fascinating isn't he? He's ah, how shall I say, indispensable to my enjoyment. He makes the concept of anarchy, hahaha, a lot more vindictive." He resounded a complete horde of laughter that must've been caught in the back of his throat. He was simply uproarious.
"Are you saying you'd like to see revolution?'
"Not per say—I, ah, I'd like to think of myself as a liberator. To truly show that these, uh, civilized people, that the only way to survive in this world is without rules."
It was as if Harleen morphed into a moth, effortlessly fluttering into the night, coming towards a bright, roaring flame. She was drawn by such cunning wit the Joker had been producing and it all seemed right however, she knew she couldn't believe in his liberalism. It was too outlandish but it made perfect parallels to what she learned in a late college coarse –the laws of Darwinism. His words relished in a sweet salt, sour to her tongue but igniting a most disgusting curiosity. Almost like a budding poisonous flower…
"So you see nothing wrong with the actions you take into achieve this…goal?" Harleen asked.
"People just seem to ah, get in the way. They do however make my ploy effective."
"Incidental pawns to your plan?"
"Precisely, and they become very useful," He said, "But what-ah, whatta bout you? What do you believe in? Hmm?"
Harleen became silent, unaware that he was staring at her directly, unwavering in his attempt to carry the conversation deeper. She couldn't exactly sum up her beliefs.
"I'm not sure. I do think we need law, as humans, to abide by. Or else there will be chaos"—
Suddenly the Joker burst into a rage of laughter once more. He tried to contain himself he failed miserably so.
"Because you believe in that rodent's symbolism. Don't you? It's ah, rather amusing." He spoke through stuttered giggles.
"Symbolism?" Harleen questioned.
"Yes. He very may well the symbol of ah, of justice –perhaps even hope, however, the Bat does have his downfall. I just haven't found it yet. Yet."
"Is that your plan? To strip the Batman of his nobility and prove to that everyone isn't incorruptible?"
There again came arose another spurt of laughter from the crazed loony whom sat before. He was laughing so hard tears started to form and he tried holding his sides.
"Incorruptible, ah, yes, I guess you can ah put it that way. Hehehehe."
"Well he did put here. I suppose that serves as some type of justice."
"You see, the thing with, ah, that is I'm like a brand new toy –ripped open on Christmas morning," he paused, as if gathering his thoughts, "Batman prodded and toyed with me but now that I've gotten old and worn, he's tucked me away back into his toy box. He, ah, sent me here. But when he cleans that toy box out," He withdrew an evil smile "He'll see me again. Bringing Gotham to its' knees with a few drums of gasoline and couple of firecrackers." He threatened with a mechanical laughter until his was overcast by Harleen's own vociferous laugh!
She tried very hard to contain herself but she just couldn't. The thought was absolutely preposterous –to think that he, out of all Arkham's patients, thought he could possibly outwit the sercurity system. The travesty of such a thought was hysterical.
"And just how do you expect to get out of here?" Harleen laughed. This was a complete parody, replaying in her head, imaginging him even getting past seventh floor security –the thought was simply maddening.
"Well you, ah, you see," He smacked his lips, "that's where you come in Doc-ah."
"You must be misguided to think I'd help you. I won't be assisting you in such an offense."
"Sure, why not?" He flirted effortlessly, wriggling his brows.
"Well you're inconsolably erroneous," She said dismissively, collecting her things due to the elapsed time, "because I won't be a pawn in you're little games, Joker."
"You'll see," He vowed, as she turned to leave, "I'll make you want to help me."
III. (returning home after work)
"Would you like to come out to dinner tonight?" Coleman asked on the phone. Harleen fell silent for a moment, taking in a sweep of her complex.
The loft was a mess. She could see from where she stood that the dishes in the sink were reaching the brim and there were wrappers, soda cans and glasses all around the living room. The television lulled dully in the distance, fighting for velocity against the loud vibrations of the air conditioning that rasped from the ceiling and floor vents.
"Uh," She sighed, "Well. The apartment's a mess"—
"I could come over and see you then?" He asked sweetly. Harleen felt her heart flutter temporarily.
"That would be fine but you know I can't cook very well"—
"I'll pick up something." He offered.
Colman was such a wonderful man, fetching and bending at every will and command she asked of, even if she wasn't directly asking for something he always piped in for her.
"That would be fine. I'll see you in a few then." She said, catching Sebastian's eyes.
"Alright, I love you."
"Love you." She whispered, before hanging up her receiver.
Sebastian curled beneath her feet, wrapping his tail soothingly around Harleen's ankles and playing daintily with her toes.
"Shoo." Harleen said, patting the cat away.
When she had begun to put everything away, and throw away trash she noticed that she had two new messages on her answering machine and pressed the 'play' button.
The machine beeped and then a calm voice resonated over the static, with a very a depressed tone of voice and immediately Harleen tensed up, listening closely as she cleaned the parlor:
Harleen, it's me, mom! Your father's getting worse and is back in the hospital again. We want to see you again, dear, we don't hear from you much and neither does your sister, so please, give me a call soon and come see us. I love you, buh-bye.
There soon after followed a very loud beep and another message played, this time it was her sister:
Harleen, it's Josie. It's been awhile, you know, we haven't been out to lunch in over a month now—are you okay? I'm not sure mom called you or not but if she didn't, dad's back in the hospital again. I'm worried about him this time. He isn't looking so good. I hope you can come visit us tomorrow, me and mom are suppose to be going out to lunch and I was wondering if you wanted to come along. But I know how busy work is sometimes for you so just give me a call please and let me know. Alright, I love you, bye.
"End of new messages, to replay these messages, press"—
She pressed the "stop" button and then re-winded all of two messages. She quickly pressed the erase key it instantly emptied her machine. She fell on her couch with a sigh, watching the curtains flutter exhaustidly from the wind that silently swept through her loft.
Harleen watched her cat strut lazily over into the room and saw that he licked his paw now and crept forth toward her to meet her outstretched hand. She rubbed his skull into her palm. He was purring loudly when he jumped upon her chest and curled into a perfect ball, expecting to be petted. Harleen did so.
"Oh, Sebestian," She complained with a cooed voice, "I need a vacation." She rubbed behind his ears watching his arch his neck in pleasure. She suddenly sat up, taking his tiny body in her arms and cradled him as she entered the dining area and gracefully grabbed her briefcase, making her way slowly into her office.
When she entered through, she immedietly set Sebestian in his plush silk and cotton pillow-bed that sat on the corner of her large desk and she herself settled in getting her files together and all the papers within those upon her oak desk. Harleen began working immediately as Sebastian slept soundly, purring loudly beside her.
Indisposed, and greatly afflicted with sleep, she still presumed hopelessly, pouring over the notes and drawings she had for all twelve of her patients. There were papers on the floor and pens scattered all over her desk. Her computer was filled with online billing and unread e-mails from her employer and nurses' applications to Arkham. She was overwhelmed, completely and utterly overwhelmed especially when she had come across the Joker's file. She stared ominously at the pad she recorded today, allowing herself to glower in disgust.
"Alright," She whispered, quietly to herself, "think. Think. Think." She couldn't calculate the man's condition. He was to involved with other dim witted conversation for her to really diagnose him. She did however confirm that he was a little crazy. I mean, aside from that he's killed hundreds of people, she thought stupidly, but because, she pondered, he loved the idea of liberating a single city for the sake of anarchy…
But what purpose would that serve? Nothing she mentally answered. Breaking one city to it's knees served no sense of chaos, unless of course the anarchy spread, then that would serve potential problems, however, that was unlikely. There had to be some reason for him to target Gotham –perhaps, she thought silently, feeling her eye lids grow heavy, faltering lazily, it was simply because of the Batman.
Just then she saw Sebastian creek his head forward, looking to the entrance of the room and then Harleen heard someone knocking on the front door.
Jumping up, she scurried to the noise and let Coleman through.
"I picked up Chinese," He said, bringing in a couple bags, "is that okay?"
Harleen nodded taking the white bags from his hands and set them on the countertop when she felt his arms wrap tightly around her waiste and burrowing his face into her hair.
"I've missed you," He whispered.
"I've missed you."
She turned around to meet her eyes with his and leaning forward, allowing her lips to touch his in a subtle peck.
"How has work been?" She asked after he released her, and walking into the parlor. Harleen had begun to unpack the food for them to eat.
"Ah," He laughed, "It's been work. Facutly meetings all damn day –I swear," He paused, "sometimes I need a vacation, you know?"
Harleen nodded to herself and flickered her eyes back at his as she too sat with him on the couch.
"Yea," She spoke sadly, "I really need one."
"I don't know how the hell you can stand to work those people."
"I don't either," Harleen responded soundlessly as she snuggled closer in his embrace, allowing her eyes to close.
Coleman held her close, allowing her head to rest on his chest as she breathed in the scent of her. She vaguely smelled like a sweet honey oat, occasionally triggering an almost jasmine like tange.
"So," He sighed, watching Sebastian as he crawled into the room as well, "how's work been? Your tired obviously."
"Yes. I am desperate for sleep." Harleen spoke into his chest, snuggling tightly.
"Anything new?"
"I've been given a new patient –or wait—Did I tell you?" She sat up at this point, curling her feet under her, Indian style.
"No," He rubbed his chin, "You haven't. Who is it?"
"The Joker." She answered and saw Coleman's face drop somewhat.
"What's the matter?"
"Harleen," His voice deepened, as anger had instantly filled his veins, "Do you know what that idiot's capable of? He's killed"—
"I know, I know," She said, creeping up and heading into the kitchen to fetch their food, "I am very aware he is a notorious criminal. But you have to remember, Coleman," She reminded, settling back into the couch, handing him his plate, "I don't live in Gotham like you do."
"Harleen," He warned again, as they ate, "I want you to be careful. He can hurt you."
"And so can all my other patients, Cole," She snapped, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself—does everyone today think I can't do my job?"
"Hey," He said defensively, "I haven't said one word about your job capabilities."
"I know. I'm just, frustrated I guess." She sighed as she chewed her rice.
"Look," He responded soothingly, "Take the day off. You haven't taken a sick day in God knows how long –maybe it'll do you some good to give it rest for a day or two."
"Yea," She replied disbondently, thinking instinctively about her family and of the voice messages that were on the phone, "maybe."
IV. (7:48am)
Harleen sat at her breakfast nook, eating lazily of an apple and a cup of coffee. She had been debating all morning whether or not to venture for lunch or not, however, a day from work was almost too tempting, as she picked up the phone and was put through to her boss, Doctor Amanda Whitley.
"Hello? Amanda?" Harleen asked quietly.
"Yes, Harleen, what can I do for you?"
"Yes, I am calling to tell you I won't be coming in work today," Harleen said.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I just have a lunch date with my mom and sister. I know technicially I'm not sick but I don't feel the need to lie about this." Harleen smiled nervously.
"Oh, yes, quite alright. You hardly ever ask for a day off, anyway." Amanda laughed over the phone.
"Thanks, Amanda. Goodbye." Harleen hung up before getting herself ready for the day.
V. (parking deck, promptly at 12:30 pm)
"Harleen!" Josie squeled as she ran over to her sister, and embraced her tightly, kissing her cheek.
"How've you been? I haven't talked to you in forever!"
Josie was a very petite girl, a couple years younger than Harleen and still attending nursing school. She too had blonde hair, however, her eyes were a deep brown and her skin was much more olive than Harleen's naturally ivory tone.
"You know me," Harleen replied nonchantly, following her sister, "work. Work. Work."
"Well come on," Josie, latched her arms with Harleen's, "Mom's waiting on us!"
VI. (lunch; 12:45 pm)
"They've got you working with who!" Her mother's face befell uncertain fear.
Of course, her mother, new in Gotham due to her father's job reloaction, arrived just when the Joker killings unleashed it's fury upon the dismal metropolis. Harleen's mother was very aware of such a person and all the while, as she stared, gaped and in shock, her blue eyes were flustered, angry and scared, screaming at Harleen from the across the table where they ate.
They were eating at a little Italian resturant just across the Hospital plaza, and were sitting on the outside patio under a vibrantly color umbrella above them.
"The Joker. You know, the one that's been causing a lot of problems in Gotham?"
"I know him Harleen, he's a freaking lunatic! Jesus Christ, are they crazy? You shouldn't have to look after him Harleen, what if he"—
"Mom," Harleen interjected, already feeling herself growing annoyed, but her mother refused those wishes and kept talking.
"What if he hurts you? Can you even handle someone like that"—
"Mom!" Harleen pleaded, trying to keep herself cool. Josie, who sat to Harleen's left, rubbed her limp hand that lay in between her thighs. She squeezed her fingers within the palm of her hand, as if telling Harleen to remain calm.
"Mom," she sighed, gently releasing from Josie's smooth hands, and rubbed both sides of her temples, "Do you think I can't do my job or something? Why do you always complain about my work?"
"Harleen all I'm saying is that you never call, you never visit because you're always working, working working and I'm afraid"—
"Mom! It's a job, I have to work to live! You and Poppa have been trying to shove me out the door since I was eighteen, so what am I suppose to do?"
"Keeping in touch once in awhile, dear, wouldn't kill you." Her mother said firmly with thin lips and a illegible look formed on her face, unsettling Harleen and her younger sister.
"Mom, I"—Harleen cut herself off and just brushed away all thoughts. She stared away now, into the open sky that hovered above, pasted and glued with clouds. For once, in the few times that this ever happened, Harleen wished she were never born. It was hard enough to please herself and her pateitns but her mother was even harder to please. Nothin she did ever made her smile, not even if she visited everday, her mother wold always find some sort of flaw within the vast scheme of things.
Harleen felt her sisters hand on hers again. She squeezed back, trying not to cry.
VII. (After Lunch Ragazzi's, Harleen (and Josie's) visit's her Father in the hospital with their Mother)
"Hey daddy." Josie whispered, bending over the hospital bed and kissing his forehead. Harleen just stared at the thin man who lay motionless in the hospital bed. His eyes were half open, staring weekly at Josie as she tried talking to him.
Harleen stood within the doorway, half afraid to step forward inside the room. She could here the beeps and saw the machines that surround his bed. Her mother glanced at her from the other side of the room.
"I bought you some desert from Rigazzi's," Josie seemed proud, opening the white take out box and showed the man a generous amount of chocolate cake with thick layers of icing. Poppa's favorite, Harleen thought, smiling warmly.
The man didn't speak, he just lay there and seemingly lifeless. Josie awkwardly put the box aside and pulled a chair close beside him. Josie then looked at Harleen, worriedly, begging her with her eyes to come inside but Harleen was frozen.
All Harleen could smell was the rotting hoping that filled the void in buildings like this. It was like a false aire about the building, she knew there was life here everyday but she also knew that death was around every corner as well. The rotten stank of a hospital, with all it's quirks and nicks, frightened Harleen. It was the smell of people, like her father who were sick, and the common standard of hospital food and medicine that altogether made this distinctive smell that so unnerving to Harleen that it completely broke her out of her bubble. She was afraid to enter the room but did so anyway, grabbing a chair and sat beside Josie.
Her mother was now adjusting her father's pillow and setting him in a more comfortable position and that's when he started to notice he was alive himself. He moaned loudly, squinting his eyes at both Harleen and Josie who said across from him.
"Hey daddy!" Josie spoke loudly, "Hey daddy, it's me," She got up again, leaving Harleen's side, and gave him a hug.
"Josie." She whispered in his ear. He nodded and weakly kissed her cheek.
"Who is that?" He asked rasply, pointing at Harleen.
"Poppa," Harleen cooed, quietly, without standing, "It's Harleen."
"Harleen?" He was confused.
"Yea, Poppa."
"Harleen?" He searched, leaving Harleen on the verge of tears, she asked herself softly, why don't you ever remember my face, I'm you're daughter for crying out loud!
"Oh," It struck him, "Harleen."
"Yea, poppa, I'm here," she piped in, as Josie rejoined her seat, "How have you been?"
"Well, what the hell do you think? I'm in a damn hospital!" He spoke curtly.
"You know if you came around once in awhile maybe you'd know Goddamned well what's going on." His words were sharp but Harleen's expression remained unwavered. Josie rubbed her palms again.
"I'm sorry," Harleen apologize, very quietly, looking anxiously at her palms.
Her mother did absolutely nothing to comfort her. She just sat there, as if agreeing with every word he was saying and she even began stroking his arm as if to calm him down. Harleen was on the very verge of walking out and just leaving but she remained seated and awkward just staring at her father. He didn't look at her again instead he started to carry on a conversation with her mother and Josie. Harleen never spoke once to him again during the duration of their visit.
VIII.
"Don't take it hard," Josie, pleaded, kissing Harleen's cheeks, "Daddy'll get over"—
"Poppa won't get over it, Josie. He rarely talked to me when I was little and he still hardly speaks to me now. I'm done with trying"—
"No! Don't say that. He loves you. He told me."
Harleen just stared at her, vague with dissopointment and tears welling behind her eyes. She shoved it away and cranked her car.
"Please come again, with me?" Josie asked, politely as she leaned against the car door.
"Alright." Harleen whispered, hugging her good-bye.
"Harleen," Josie sounded serious, as she whispered in her ear, "They really do love you. I'm not lying. Mom just wished you'd be around more."
"Okay." Harleen responded with little emotion. She released from their embrace and slowly pulled out of the hospital parking deck, watching her sister's figure disappear. That's when she finally allowed herself to break down.
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Sneak Peak: Chapter Four: Written In Blood
When she came through the threshold, everything was intact –nothing had been moved or misplaced, however there was a vase, sitting proudly upon her desk, with array of blood red roses.
"These must be from Coleman," She assured herself, in a low whisper when she reached her desk, setting her briefcase on the floor. She dipped her head over, and took in the rich sweet smell.
Then she noticed a note attatched and read carefully:
See you soon – J
