A/N: Hi readers! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Here's chapter two. Please review if you so desire.

Harleen woke up. Thinking that maybe she had dreamed up the events of the previous night. She got up and performed her daily ritual. Shower, get dressed, brush teeth, eat a bowl of cereal. Same thing everyday. But she was looking forward to today. She looked across the kitchen table and saw the rose laying out.

She dug through her cabinets and pulled out a glass. She filled it to the brim with water and delicately held the rose up to her eyes.

"Ta da." She said quietly, as she sniffed the rose. Then put it in the glass she had gotten out and set it in the center of the table, smiling. She looked down at her attire and let out a sigh. Her typical black slacks with a plain white button down shirt and black blazer, the same outfit she wore everyday. She headed back to her closet and hurriedly shuffled through her clothes. She traded in her slacks and blazer for a pencil skirt with a dark red shirt. She gave herself one final look in the mirror, and satisfied she left for Arkham.

Harleen only stopped in her office briefly. Just to pick up the Joker's folder. She headed straight for isolation. She nodded at the guards and they unlocked the door to cell A.

"Well good morning." The Joker cooed eagerly. "I hope you had good dreams."

"I don't know. I don't remember any… How are you?"

"Oh. I'm just peachy."

"Sarcasm… that's cute."

"No, no. I'm being honest. I'm an honest guy. I'm having a good day. And now that you are here buddy, it's even better."

"I was thinking we could talk a little about your childhood today." Harleen said, getting right down to business.

"I already told you it was less than pleasant."

"I remember. But I was just thinking we could talk about some specific moments you might remember."

"Oh. I'm sure my childhood was exactly the same as all the other criminals you get in here. I hated my parents. Daddy drank a lot. He was never happy with mommy and me. He never got to live the life he wanted, and he took it out on us. Mommy blamed me for dad's drinking… Did you have parents like that? Or did you come from a good home?"

"No. I never knew my dad. My mother was an alcoholic."

"That's a sad story. Seems like you and I have a lot in common."

"So it appears."

"Is there any chance I can get a peek at that folder?" He asked with a small grin.

Harleen eyed him cautiously. It wouldn't hurt anything, she thought to herself.

"I already know what it all says, but just I wanted to see it in writing."

Harleen stood up and walked over to him with the folder. He licked his lips and held out his hand.

"Pretty please." He said.

She handed it over. He brushed his hand against her's deliberately, throwing her a quick glance. "Thanks doc."

"You're welcome." Harleen told him, walking back to her seat.

He filed through all the papers. "This is not the most flattering picture of me." He said, holding his mug shot right up to his face. Harleen didn't realize it, but she was grinning. He smiled back at her. "It's just like I figured," he continued, "I knew all of this already… What I'm really interested in are the notes you are taking."

"You want to know what I think of you?" She asked him, sitting down.

He nodded. "I'm curious."

"Everything I'm supposed to think is written on those papers. But I don't know about you. I think you understand and grasp this world better than most sociopaths."

"So you would call me a sociopath?"

"Yes. I'd say you are."

"But you like me at least a little bit don't you?"

"Uhm-"

"I'm a pretty nice guy," He raised an eyebrow. "I make people laugh, why shouldn't you like me?"

"I guess I, personally, don't have a reason not to."

"So you do."

Harleen thought about this for a minute. She did like him. She'd only known him for a couple days, but he was kind to her and he was unpredictable. She liked the person he was and didn't care about the things he'd done.

"I do."

"Well perfect! We'll be the bestest of friends then. I've never had a best friend before. Maybe once I get out of here we can set up shop together. You know? Be partners in crime." He grinned widely.

"Once you get out? I don't think that's happening. There's no way you are getting out of Arkham. This place is a fortress."

"When your mother drank did she hit you? That's what my dad used to do." He asked through his teeth.

"When I was little. Once I got older I learned how to avoid it. I managed to keep myself out of the house by staying busy in school. How did you do in school? Did you like it?"

"Was better than the alternative I guess. But school is dull. I'm smarter than that. Don't you think I'm smart?"

"Yeah, you are. I just don't imagine most people think about the things you think about. They're more… practical than that."

"But you understand. That being practical isn't always the answer. And because I'm not practical I'm going to be one of the few people left after this world burns down."

"When is this world going to burn down?"

"Could be today. Could be tomorrow. I can help you Harley." He leaned forward, staring her in the eyes, "when it does."

She stared back at him. Was that an offer? Did he think of her as a friend? Harleen couldn't understand why but she felt glad, knowing that he'd have her back. Maybe she should be looking out for him.

"You look nice Harley."

"What?" She said snapping back from her thoughts.

"I said you look nice Harley," her name rolled off his tongue. "The skirt was a good choice. Your legs are to kill for." He smiled slyly.

Harley shifted uncomfortably. She'd received compliments from patients before. However, she'd never appreciated them before now. She was glad he noticed.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asked her.

"No. I just-" She began, straightening her glasses.

"Don't know what to think?" He finished for her.

"Yes."

"I think you should be flattered."

"I am. Thank you."

"You know Harley. I'd love to take you out sometime. Someplace nice." He flashed her a devious grin.

Harleen didn't say anything. She didn't know what the appropriate response would be. She just smiled back at him. Deep down she liked the idea.

"I think we could use a short break." She finally answered.

The Joker just gave her a big grin and nodded. Harleen straightened her glasses, collected her papers and left the room. Still thinking about the idea of a date with the Joker. She let a small smile play across her lips. It stayed that way the entire walk back to her office.

Her mind lingered on him for the rest of the day. Thinking about what he had said to her. That being practical wasn't always the answer. She had to agree with him. Practical people play by the rules. Practical people get stuck in a repetitious life. Practical people go to the same job everyday and come home to the same empty house every night. They are boring. They are pushovers. They accept whatever shit life throws at them and they take it with a false smile. She was tired of that life.

The two talked more about his childhood and spent a great deal of time talking about his theories on life and anarchy. The more Harleen listened, the more sense it all made to her. And she knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to try his life out. She wanted to be his partner in crime. Harleen was ashamed to admit it to herself, but she had fallen for her patient.