"So... How's work treating you?"

My question seemed to snap Derek out of his thoughts. He'd been at my apartment for half an hour, and in that amount of time I was more entertained by talking to Joker than sitting mostly in silence, watching Derek daydream about whatever went through his mind.

I wonder if they took his makeup off yet. It's only been a couple hours, but still...

"Okay. Almost finished with the blueprint for this one couple's house, so we'll probably be able to start building by the end of the month, as long as they get the necessary permits and all that." His voice seemed a little more detached than usual.

I scooted a little closer to him on the sofa and wrapped my arms around his bicep. He stared down at me with his piercing blue eyes.

"I heard the Joker is at Arkham. Have you caught a glimpse at him yet?"

"He's my patient, actually." I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Whoa... What?" He brushed me off and turned towards me, looking at me in disbelief. "Uh... You couldn't have made it a point to mention that on the first fuckin' day?"

"You never asked," I replied in a calm tone.

He sat back in his seat, letting out what sounded like a scoff.

"What's the freak like?"

I scowled. "Freak" ... What a rotten word.

"My patient is actually quite fascinating. He's been nice to me, and has cooperated during our sessions."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"Elaine, how many of your wacko patients have been nice to you in the past and it almost always ended badly? You're too sympathetic with these monsters."

"Some of these people are actually very ill, Derek. They need a little sympathy and someone to listen to what's going on in their heads. It's actually pretty sad sometimes."

"Because they were poor and Mommy never loved them enough?" He shook his head. "You need a new job. Talk to some more normal people. Honestly, I don't know why you stay."

"Because the pay is good and there are people there who are relying on me to help them?" I felt my patience quickly wearing thin.

"You can do that somewhere else where there aren't freaks wearing makeup or freezing their wives."

Which was done out of love, so I'm sure he wouldn't be able to grasp that concept.

"What are we even doing, Derek? We haven't seen each other in nearly a month. We should be making the most of this."

A smirk quickly spread on his thin lips as he reached down for the zipper on his jeans.

"I know a way you can make up for it..."

Oh gee, another blow job. What a surprise.

"Why don't we try something else for once? Switch it up a little?" I smiled at him hopefully.

"Why? I already know I like this."

He took his dick out and put his hand on the back of my head, trying to push me down. I pulled away from him.

"We always do this. Why don't we try something else? I'm on the pill, and I have extra protection. I mean... We could take it a step further. I'm completely comfortable with it."

He frowned.

"Why are you refusing to suck me? You always gladly did it before."

"I was sort of thinking we could do something that we'd both get enjoyment out of..."

"I could finger your asshole this time," he said as he stroked his dick.

"Derek, that would be more to your benefit. You know how I feel about that," I said quietly, feeling more glum.

He let out an exasperated sigh as he stopped touching himself.

"You don't want to suck me any more?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"It's not that. I'd just like to go a little further now. It's been about three years, and we still haven't had sex."

"Well, I like blow jobs, and you know that. What's wrong with keeping it the way things are?" He grinned.

I felt my stomach sink at his words.

I'm never going to get any.

"I just want a little more out of this relationship, that's all..."

Derek rolled his eyes and put his dick away, then zipped up.

"Always something, isn't it?" he asked in a snarky voice as he got up.

I watched him walk towards the door and put on his coat.

"Where are you going?" I asked as I stood up.

"Leaving. We'll try this again some other time when you're not defending psychos and refusing to give me the only thing I ask for."

And with that, he walked out the door. I stood in front of the sofa for a bit before slowly sinking to the floor, feeling hot tears spill out of my eyes. Maxwell approached me within a minute and rubbed himself against my legs. I lifted him up, and placed him on my lap, only to have him butt his head against my chin and rub his paws on my chest.

"At least I have you, Max," I said quietly, sniffling and biting back the rest of my tears.

I returned to work the following day for my normal shift. I had a session with Poison Ivy, and it went better than usual. She was in a good mood because she was given a ficus since the last time we we were together, and she spoke very fondly about it. She asked me if I could try to sneak in plant food for her again, and I told her I'd at least try. I did feel bad for her - she really did care about the earth, and had the same fairly low opinion over the general population of humans that I had.

Nicole was chipper when we had lunch together. She told me all about her date with Greg at the Iceberg Lounge, and how she caught a glimpse of its owner, Oswald Cobblepot.

"He has an English accent!" she said excitedly. "I almost never hear that in person!"

She asked about Derek, and I told her what happened the previous day.

"What a dick," she said as she rolled her eyes. "I think you oughta move on, Elaine. Greg might have some single friends! Heck, maybe his brother is single. Ashton is a lot like Greg. She grinned.

"If just breaking up with him was that simple, I'd have already done it." I sighed. "Maybe I need to lose weight and gain some sort of talent. Maybe I'd be more worthy."

Nicole looked like she was about to take her flashlight off her belt and whack me with it.

"You better not let me catch you talking about yourself like that again." She laid down her turkey melt. "There's not a damn thing wrong with you, and if he doesn't want to take care of your needs as well, fuck 'im. You can do better."

As if.

After lunch, I called Dr. Jeremiah Arkham to speak to him about patient 4479. He wasn't too shaken over the news of what happened the previous day.

"I never liked Russell," he said quietly. "He threatened to repeat his actions if we don't supply him with his makeup?"

"Correct, Doctor," I responded as I sat back in the soft leather chair in my office. "You let Dr. Crane keep his mask, minus the gas line. Why not allow patient 4479 keep his makeup? It's a large part of his identity, and losing that this quickly might have negative effects on his treatment."

He was silent for a moment.

"I suppose you have a point, Dr. Morgan. I'll fax a statement A.S.A.P. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Yes. Some of the guards have been rough with patient 4479, and patient 42970 complained to me today about being mistreated by Officer Bolton. I'm not trying to narc, Doctor, but I am a little concerned for my patients and how this could set them back in their treatments."

"I understand, Doctor. I will include this in my statement to the hospital. Anything else?"

"No, Doctor. Thank you for taking time out to speak with me. I appreciate it."

I don't actually care about talking to him, but I should sound grateful in case there's a chance I could get a raise...

"Have a nice day, Dr. Morgan," he said in a satisfied voice.

"You too, Doctor. Goodbye."

Monday wrapped up fairly quickly. Derek and I talked some that day, and a little bit in the evening. He didn't apologize for how he was, and I accepted that. At that time, I wasn't that concerned with what was going on with us anyway - I had an interview with the Joker coming up, and he seemed to be the only one holding my attention for a couple days straight.

No problems concerning him today. I'm hoping this is a good sign.

When I entered the patient interview room, my jaw nearly fell off its hinges from shock. Joker was sitting there, feet shackled to the floor, with no other restraints on.

"Good afternoon," I said in my least surprised voice. "I see you must have been on your best behavior."

He grinned at me.

"Like I said, Lainey... I'm a man of my word."

I sat across from him and opened his chart, trying to remain calm when there was a risk of him reaching out and strangling me at any moment.

"I also see Dr. Arkham has given staff permission to give you access to your makeup," I said, noting his notorious facepaint.

"After that little call you made yesterday, they're given me as much makeup products as I want." He licked his lips as he stared at me.

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I watched his tongue dart across his lips.

"Y'know," he said as he adjusted himself in his seat, "for being a level two 'patient' in a Maximum Security 'Hospital,' I know just about everything that goes on here. Obviously the good Doctor hasn't warned the staff about whispering amongst themselves, since a lot of us 'patients' are lip-readers," he said. "Take Lyle Bolton for example. I know who his wife is, and I know he has at least two other 'female friends' off to the side." He leaned forward, his gaze lowering. "I also know he has plans beyond caring for us 'patients.'"

I couldn't help it - I was curious. I didn't like Bolton, and to see him canned and a more worthy guard in his position was a small dream of mine.

"What have you heard about Officer Bolton?" I asked in a nonchalant tone.

"Ah, ta-ta... I'll tell you something if you tell me something. How's that?" His Cheshire smile widened.

Under the right light, he was sort of beautiful. In a psychotic, scary way.

"And what would you like to know?"

"About your little bunny." I huffed and crossed my arms.

"What do you want to know about him?"

"Oh, just the things he does that troubles you." I heard his shackles moving, making it seem like he was trying to spread his legs more.

"Why would you want to know that?"

His hands landed on the table with a small bang.

"You interest me, Lainey," he said in a low voice, his cold eyes fixated on mine.

"Please refer to me as Dr. Morgan," I said sternly. "This needs to remain professional."

"Nothing remains that professional with me, Doc." He grinned, his hands remaining flat on the table. "I get to people. I'll eventually get to you."

He squinted his eyes a little as he continued to fix his glaze on me. "In fact, I think I might already be starting to get to you."

"I don't think so," I said, although deep down, there was a little truth to his words.

I was thinking about him more than any other patient I'd treated.

"If you say so, Doctor Morgan." He let out his breathy laugh, then studied me for a bit. "So what happened between you and your squeeze? A lover's quarrel?"

"We had some words the other day, but that is none of your business -"

"- Mister J," he finished, grinning.

"Patient 4479," I finished in an irritated voice.

"Ooh," he started in an amused tone. "So... What was the fight about? Not spending enough time with his beloved? Not getting you enough pretty things?"

I glared at him. "I don't need nor demand 'pretty' things, thanks."

"Then maybe he's spending more time with someone else."

I remained silent. I could hear his hums, the shackles around his ankles rattle as he shifted in his chair again.

"Long days at work?"

"No," I said quietly, refusing to look at him; all I could feel was a hole burning in my guts.

"Jealousy is such a cruel game, isn't it, puddin'?" He snickered.

"Shut up," I replied, suddenly feeling a sense of panic because of how unprofessional that was.

His breathy laugh rang in my ears. "Come on, Doc. What's lover-boy doing while you two are apart?"

Things were quiet for a few moments as I collected my thoughts (or lack thereof). I put down my pen and stared him in the eye.

"He plays in a band, and he often puts practices and gigs ahead of me. The lead singer is a woman, and she's beautiful. And she can sing really well."

"Mmm..." he said with amusement. "So you think your precious is fucking the singer. Tell me, what is his name?"

"Derek," I said immediately, feeling regret wash over me. "We barely see each other."

"And as I already stated, he's not giving you what you want or need. I can give you those things," he said, his voice growing lower, sending a shiver up my spine. "As I offered before, come see me sometime. Perhaps we could work something out."

Lyle banged on the door as soon as Joker finished talking, then buzzed himself inside.

"Time's up, clown. Back to your cell."

"Ah, but we were just getting somewhere," he said as he stared at me, eyes almost showing some light. Joker's tongue flicked out and grazed his lips as he stared at me as if I were his prey.

"Until next time, Doctor Morgan," he said as he was released from his shackles and handcuffed by Lyle.

"Yes, see you later," I said in a professional tone.

After they left, my head was swimming with some of the worst thoughts I'd had to date.

Why am I actually considering cheating on Derek? I have no proof of him having an affair... But he's a selfish lover - hell, if you can call him that. He's already admitted to not loving me.

Stop it, Elaine. Joker is a psychopath. He'll manipulate you and you'll be out of a job.

I banged my head on the table and let out a deep, sorrowful sigh.