I do not own any of these DC Comic characters or their movie counterparts. They belong solely to their respective companies, namely DC Comics and Chris Nolan the spectacular director. I'm just the writer.

This leggy blonde that had entered his room could only be described as gorgeous. She had an even tan complexion, that spoke of the pride she took in herself. Her honey blonde hair practically caressed her beautifully molded shoulders and hung at her back. Joker found that what interested him most about her was the obvious interest she held in him. He could tell by the way her sky colored eyes lit on his marred features and eventually his eyes that she wanted to know what made him tick.

He smiled, accentuating the scars that marred his otherwise perfect features. 'Let's play.'

"I can…tell you're new around here."

"Yes, I'm your new psychiatrist Dr. Quinzel," she said as she watched two men cart in a table and chair.

Joker waited until the two staff members exited before studying her more lasciviously. Finally after he was certain that he had stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time he decided it was time to roll the dice.

"Wow, sounds…uh…well no. It doesn't sound impressive to me at all. What's your first name?"

"Harleen."

The Joker guffawed loudly at the obvious joke her name was. Her parents were bastards, he stopped laughing.

"Here to cure me…hehehe…Haarrllleeeen," he queried as he hung his head," come to bring me out of my 'so to speak' happy place?"

"I suppose I am. They assure me that you are incurable, but I have yet to see that, and so I am here to try."

"You know…it is aaalllways better to listen to your um…betters. Listen here doll face I have no intention of going back, rewinding the clock…NO," he barked at her as he strained against his ties. He smirked inside, she hadn't flinched. This broad was sturdier than she looked.

Good. He had always loved a challenge.

"So…uhhh…what are you going to try first?"

"Why Joker?"

He stared at her his mouth downcast and twitching slightly. He had hoped that despite her blonde hair she would be slightly less vapid than her forebears. He had hoped in vain, if he had had his knife he could make her sing a much more exciting tune, but for now...

"Joker is my...uhh...name. You know that right? In that little...file...yeah, the little file they give you don't they mention that," he asked as he shook his head in a 'fucking idiot' manner.

"I know what the police believe your alias to mean, but what does it mean to you? This is a basic question. Alright then in my evaluation I could just state that you need to be more heavily drugged."

He smiled broadly making sure to smile wide enough that each respective incisor could make themselves known.

"Aha, right, well no need to play rough Harley. Let's see...why Joker? Well...gee now that I think of it...BECAUSE I WANTED IT TO BE YOU STUPID BITCH," he barked loudly.

He saw it, it was small, but it was a flinch all the same. He laughed shrilly, wriggling in his chair happily. It was about time the broad heated up a little. Now to really fuck with her.

He let his body slump as if suddenly drained. He wanted to look weak for her, make her feel sorry for him. Was that how this game would be played? He wasn't sure. He laid down a card.

"No, didn't...I didn't mean that. I apologize...you're not a bitch," he grinned and then just as quickly frowned," my father. You see, my father," he glanced upwards trying to think of something that seemed just out of reach.

"Yes? Your father?"

Ha! He knew the broad would bite. He hadn't had this much fun since he had bit off one of the attendant's ears.

"My father was a cold, cold man. Didn't play fair, liked to hit people. My mother...he liked to hit her...a lot. I'm not the bad guy I just...I really just want to have fun. Daddy wouldn't let me. Said I was weak...said that my mother...was too weak. Turns out he was right...with her. Buuut noooot me...no ,no, I showed him. I am quite capable." Joker glanced up at her, letting her know just what he was capable of. He saw it, faint trace of fear underlied by something else. He usually saw emotions under the blade of a knife, but he knew that in here he would have to cut and carve with different tools.

"What are you capable of," she asked her tone of voice becoming something more primal.

"Do you reaaallly wanna know?"

"Yes. What is the Joker capable of?"

"Ah ah ahhhh...you come closer...and, uhh...maybe I tell you. Kind of hard to talk with this table in between you and me. HERE NOW HARLEY!"

Again he felt that shiver of fear but he could see her pushing it aside, ignoring what her body was trying to tell her. She rose from her chair and moved closer to him. He found that he liked the way she smelled, wondered if she sprayed on Bitch in Heat before she came to work. He smirked at her as she came close enough to hear him whisper: "I'm capable of...," he jerked around in the chair a bit and leaned down to her ear, "I make people animals Harley...I show them how to beee animals."

He felt the shiver, heard the sigh, it felt almost arousing. He had missed playing games. He decided that the blond would do nicely.

Realizing what she was doing she coughed awkwardly and stood up.

"Yes, I think that will conclude our session for today."

"Yes, hehehe, good session Dr. Q."

She did not respond to his poking fun at her but instead let herself out.

Perhaps she was not as smart as Batman, but for now she stimulated enough nerve endings to save him from having a most miserable time.

He chuckled...he laughed...he shrieked peals of hysterical laughter.

He just loved new toys.