SEVEN

"How many weeks have you been working with him?"

Harley scratches her head. "Almost… two and a half months."

"Well there you go. That's a long while, Harley." Truth be told, she hadn't really taken into consideration the time that has passed. "You deserve a break. Don't they give you some days off at that place?"

Did they? Harley supposed so.

"Well then take a couple off. Live in the real world for a change. I'm sure by now the clown's starting to get to you."

Yeah. Maybe so.

"How are you and Don doing?"

Don? She hadn't thought about him all that much. Well, they had talked on the telephone last night. Why?

"Well, you guys were talking engagement before you left for Gotham. Now is that just – on hold?"

Engaged? To Don? Harley did not see that happening. But she knew better than to say that.

"Hey, why don't you and I get together next week? We haven't seen each other in…" two and a half months, "a long time. Call me when you can get off of work."

"Will do."

When she steps into Jeremiah Arkham's office, she is possibly too confident. She reminds herself she needs this. No one has lasted this long with him anyway. Just three days. Max.

"You want a few days off?" he repeats after she's given her request.

"Yes, sir. I think a break would be good for my… mental health."

Arkham shrugs his eyebrows and flips through Joker's folder. "I can't blame you there. All right. He has kept out of trouble for a while. Tomorrow then. And Saturday and Sunday after that."

Harley is too relieved to remember a "thank you". She only walks herself down the old, familiar path, to his layer as he would like to think. A break would be good, she reminds herself. She needs it for her sanity. For her mental health.

"I've been thinking, Evelyn–"

"Really? Evelyn?" She sits across from him and begins to flip through the file, looking for what Arkham marked. The calendar maybe? She turns the manila folder over and opens the flap.

"Lacy?"

"Nope."

"Belinda?"

She finds herself growing tired of the guessing games rather quickly. "What is it you've been thinking, Mister Joker?"

"Belinda, then?"

"No," she tells him firmly.

"Well, whoever you are, I've been thinking about what you said at the beginning of our get-togethers." Harley tries to recollect. Which part? "You know, when you said that you believed that a perfectly sane person could reveal the madness of the world." He said it with such inflection. It was almost too frightening. "…Me."

She nods. "Yes I do believe I was referring to you."

Joker smiles affectionately at her dry wit. "Well… Would you mind elaborating on that statement a bit?"

Harley takes in a gulp of oxygen. "Uh," she lets it out slowly and interlocks her fingers behind her head. "Well… I guess I understand where you're coming from." Joker raises and eyebrow and listens intently. He doesn't believe he's ever cared so much for someone's opinion before. Ever. "I mean, I believe that everyone can be just as," she coughs, "evil as you. But they try to tell themselves that people are born good and only freaks and those who paint their faces," Joker's teeth flash a glowing smile "are evil. But everybody's evil. To some extent. Most people just try to tell themselves otherwise or at least reverse the curse." She chews on her lip and tries to think. "So, in a way, you're probably the most rational person in Gotham."

Joker considers her words before replying: "So what are you then, Sophie?"

"Not Sophie."

"Are you in the majority; the ones who live in denial? Or the minority – with me?" He tilts closer towards her. Anxious. "You don't strike me as the type of person who would follow the crowd."

She wonders herself, where exactly she stands. "I accept my evil nature, but I try not to act on it. I'm not living in denial," she tells him. "I understand where you're coming from," she repeats.

"So, you agree with me."

"I agree with your philosophy, not your methods."

"Well, that's a start." A start. Harley smiles, and she can tell that Joker likes it. "Gwen?" No. "Heidi?" Nope. "Ariel?" Not even close. "Renee?" Kind of. "What?" No.

Harley takes one last look at him before she leaves for the day. And for the next three days. It's good to have a break. At least, that's what she's telling herself.

Holy halibut, I suck at writing long chapters. I really, truly wish I could manage to write more, but for some reason, finding enough words seems to be impossible for me. So - as a result of my horrible word counts - I [will] update a lot.

And... If you have any thoughts at all about this story or this chapter or my writing style or whatever, pretty, pretty please put them into a review. I enjoy constructive criticism as well as (well... yeah) praise. It only takes thirty seconds. Tops. Thank you very, very much for reading! It makes me feel special.