Joker studied Harleen as avidly as she did him. However, whereas Joker was an avid player, Harley was a novice dipping her toes into water that was leagues too deep for her. Harleen anticipated someone of high intelligence, but she did not see that she was being manipulated. Joker treated her the way a cruel child would treat butterflies. He pulled her wings off and made it so that she would never fly again.
After a few weeks it was obvious that Harleen was coming apart at the seams. She seemed to quiver whenever near the Joker, like a divining rod. She lost the prim and proper voice that befit the psychiatrists of Arkham. Joker loved the new accent and told her so as he fucked her into the wall. He told her lots of things and she listened.
She was his Harley-girl after all.
It was during the second week that he began to see his handiwork truly unfold. She had worn her hair down, and was wearing a read blouse with black slacks. She sat down in the chair that was provided for her and crossed long slim legs. She held in her hand a clipboard. She began to write as soon as she sat down paying no heed to the Joker rocking from side to side on the floor.
"Joker?"
"Let me ask a question doctor."
Taken aback at the sudden statement she glanced up at him. He was ever curious about her work, often testing it against his nature. He wanted to see what society had against a man such as himself. She humored this as she recorded everything he did onto her clipboard. She was curious, she was fascinated…probably soaking in her panties, he thought with an inward smirk.
"Go ahead, but do you mind if I take notes?"
"No, of course not haarghlee," he garbled out his as he put his head against the wall and arched the rest of his body in a way he knew she would appreciate, "anything."
Did she like that? Yes…he could see her knuckles whitening as she clutched her pen more tightly in her hands. He briefly wondered what made the Batman quiver. The man was stoic, pure in all sense of the word. What would it take to sully a man such as that? A lot more than it would this woman, he thought wryly.
"I want…Harley I want to know what you expect-uh from this relationsssship."
She uncrossed her legs and rested the clipboard on her thighs. She was looking at him and for a moment he held an image of her cut and oozing red red blood all over the stark white floors. He wanted a knife so he could cut into her, get a laugh. He closed his eyes for a moment and chided himself for going off to fantasy land. He had to remember that these things would come in time, that she would be bleeding for him soon enough, and he would have Batman.
"I am not here for myself, I'm-"
"You fuck yourself yet?"
"Excuse me?"
"Stop pretending, I know why you uh… had to rest the clipboard down. You know it and ah, I know it," he mocked darkly.
"I don't know what you're-"
"DON'T HIDE FROM ME!"
Harley gasped, and flinched making the metal legs of the chair scrape against the padded floor with a dull sickening huff. He grinned widely…he liked that. He licked his lips sloppily and gazed at her with hungry eyes waiting for her to try and compose herself. Operative word being try, he thought to himself as he cracked a wide tooth showing grin.
"I think we're done for the day," she said making to get up out of her chair.
"You're not going to leave me here all alone are you Harley," he asked his lips puckered into a sickening parody of a child's pout.
She looked at him half out of her seat. "Are you ready to take things seriously?"
He tilted his head as if to say 'Are you kidding'
"Right, well I as I've said it's time for me to go."
"SIT DOWN HARLEY!"
She sat down her eyes wide with fear. The clipboard fell from her hands onto the padded floor. It was about time the stupid bitch listened. It would have happened faster if he had had a knife, but one had to work with what was given, and Joker rarely required much o cause mayhem.
"Now listen Harley-girl I uh-know what you do at night. I know because your eyes give you away kid. You're ah, wet."
"Joker I am your doctor and if you feel that you're having trouble-"
"The only trouble errr, Doctor is the fact that you aren't strong enough, not without meee."
"And- and why do you believe that, "she whispered softly.
"Well, if you want to find out come closer," he snarled as he traced his tongue over his scars. He noticed that her eyes were glued to his tongue.
She shakily got to her feet and went to him. A flash of annoyance went through him as she approached. The Bat would have resisted for much longer, he would never have given into his tricks. He bit his lower lip until blood trickled down his chin. The pain helped him concentrate on the bigger picture. First he would overcome this insipid woman and then move onto Batman.
She knelt in front of him her eyes nervous and darting across his face. Though he was restrained he managed to get to his knees. His eyes were lidded giving him a sleepy look, but his tongue worked furiously, poking his cheek and accentuating his scars.
Finally he spoke.
"Dr. Q?"
"Yes," she breathed her breasts rising and falling heavily as she grew more excited.
"Hmmm…uh…now our session is over," and with that the Joker began to laugh hysterically. He rocked back and forth letting the laughter rip through him. And then she grabbed his face desperately with her hands.
He looked at her the way she was pleading with her big ocean blue eyes. She was disgusting. She was beautiful but so easily broken, a cheap dollar store gag that wasn't at all funny.
"You're too weak."
"Please."
"And…you're begging now? SIT DOWN NOW!"
Her knees crumpled beneath her and her eyes were tearing. He looked her over, from ponytail to black pumps. He could tell that she ached for his approval despite how professional she was trying to appear. He leaned into her until he was resting his chin on her shoulder. His tongue traced its way up her neck and to her ear. He heard the sharp intake of breath and pulled away.
"Our session is over Harley girl," he whispered as his voiced dipped into a lower octave.
"Yes."