Harleen slammed her brief case down on her desk, sending old papers flying everywhere. Thank God they hadn't removed her from the case. Damn them for putting him in solitary! He didn't deserve it! Wait...no...he had attacked a guard. He had almost attacked her. She put her head in her hands and took a few deep breaths. Slowly she looked up and saw the collage of Joker clippings looking back at her. She had followed the case for some time. One picture seemed to be looking into her very core. She could have sworn she heard his voice in her ear. Don't worry, kitten. They can't keep me in here long.
Joker paced in his solitary confinement cell. He had sat still for too long and he was now getting bored. It was worth it though. That guard deserved it. He took a deep breath. Joker had always had problems with authority and they sure weren't going to get better. He checked his reflection in the glass. His bright green hair clashed with his surroundings. He was too full of color in such a dull place. His red lips and constantly upturned corners of his mouth made him so different. His arms were powerful and strong but not at all brawny. He had smooth muscle and no hair anywhere. The chemicals had made his skin pale and chalk-white. His long eyelashes framed the sinister eyes. His strong jaw and artistic nose made him seem more like a painting. Unreal. Although, Joker definitely preferred the imaginary to reality anyway.
After much convincing, Harleen had managed to get Joker out of his solitary confinement early. She had explained to the other psychiatrists that it would be detrimental to the progress they had made if he was kept by himself for too long. That was partly true, for she believed that Joker's real problem was not being able to express himself well around others. So, now they were going to have another session. The first since what she refers to as "The Incident".
The Joker was back in his straight-jacket and chains again. This straight-jacket was tight and confining. Made out of stronger stuff. Stronger, itchy, uncomfortable cloth that felt like sandpaper. Lovely. He would have some major skin abrasions now. He watched the door waiting for her to come in. He was excited. He loved looking at her being around her. She was like his drug.
She hadn't had that much time to get ready this morning, so today she was wearing much more casual clothes. A pair of tight-fitting blue jeans and a tank top. "Sorry I'm late, Mister Joker. She sat down quickly, pushing her hair out of her face.
"You have lovely shoulders," he said adoringly. Her skin seemed to glow. He always noticed the smallest details. His eyes met hers. She was...nervous? Yes. He remember last session. She should be. She should be very, very nervous. He couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face.
She smiled at him a bit before searching for a clean piece of paper to write on. Her notebook was already over flowing with information. When she finally did find one, she looked up at him, ready to ask a question. However, when she saw his face her mind went blank for a second. The pictures in her house had been talking to her. "Um...Why don't we start with something different today. Any suggestions?" Her brain had seriously just gone blank.
He shifted his shoulders, the chains rattled. "Why are you so organized, Harlequin? You play the good girl but inside it's a different story." He studied her every movement. He wanted to understand her. Easier to manipulate if you understood after all...plus there was something she was always hiding that fascinated him.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She feigned a laugh. God, she had stayed up too late last night working on this case. Her average amount of sleep was dropping drastically. Today she had already consumed four cups of coffee, the fifth in her hand.
His eyes narrowed in annoyance, "You are the worst liar I've ever seen, kitten. You should practice more often. Not that you could ever fool me." He leaned forward looking at her intently. He could smell her again. A floral scent. What a sexy, blond bombshell. Her legs looked appetizing in her tight jeans. He wanted to pinch her cute nose.
She set her coffee cup down and let her notepad fall to the floor. Finally someone noticed how she really felt. How ironic was it that this person was certifiably and undeniably insane? "I'm just a little stressed right now."
He sat up straighter, "Really? Why would that be?" His voice was like honey, sweet and warm. She looked like she needed something. She really needed him. She just hadn't realized it yet.
"Not too much sleep." She really shouldn't be telling him these things. As the doctor, she was supposed to ask the questions. But, wouldn't there be more trust between them if she showed that she would tell him things? That way he would be more willing to tell her whatever he hadn't told other people.
He grimaced. She was going around in circles trying to avoid the question. Maybe he should go for the direct approach, "And, why haven't you been getting much sleep, Harley? Working too hard? It's always good to have some fun you know." He winked at her.
"I haven't been able to have to much fun lately." She grinned a little at Joker's antics. In fact, she hadn't had much time for anything else. No matter where she went, she felt like she was abandoning him. It was so horrible. She couldn't even go to the grocery store for very long. There was also another side to the question. She hadn't gone on a date in forever! No fun with any guy in such a long time. It was odd for her, because back in college she always had at least two boyfriends at a time.
"You should try it out, sweet." He grinned. She was a workaholic after all. Tsk tsk. He would have to cure her of that. He tapped his foot on the floor. The jingle have him another idea. " Why did you decide to go into psychology?" She should have done modeling. Maybe dancing. Yes..she seemed like a dancer.
"I've had a fascination with high profile cases since I was really young." She answered quickly without a thought. This might not have been the best thing to say, but too late now. "I guess I just wanted to see things from a different angle."
He laughed softly. Different angles. He could think of a few. "High profile cases? Like little old me?" He said teasing.
She rolled her eyes at him and teased right back, "You're the highest on the list." A little giggle escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her hand flew over her mouth as she tried to regain her doctor mask. How had he gotten her to admit stuff like this?
He smiled devilishly now. He felt his chest expand. Ah. Yes. He was cracking her piece by piece. "Yes, I know. Cute of you to think of me." He shook his green hair out of his eyes. The Clown King of Crime was the best after all.
A very faint blush started to spread across her cheeks again. She pretended to be flipping through the pages of her notebook, looking over her older notes. However, during this she was actually stealing glances at his face. His perfectly white skin and ruby lips. Was his skin soft or dry? Did the chemicals leave it dying or preserve it?
He raised an eyebrow. Her face told him so much. Her body language too. She was really terrible at trying to hide things. "Find something interesting, kitten?" his voice was soft tinged with a dangerous edge. He was going to incinerate her good girl exterior...if it was the last thing he ever did. He promised. Cross my heart and hope to die.
The blush got a bit deeper. "I was just.." She couldn't go back down now. The words had already started coming out. "About your skin." It sounded so odd out loud. This was so embarrassing. His skin must be a tough spot for him, because it was one of the things that made him so different. He probably got harassed about it so much.
He shrugged, the chains jingled reminding him of a holiday tune. "What about it?" he said almost uninterested. He looked at her expressionless. His heart pounded a bit harder. Her blush covered her cheeks in the most adorable way. He wondered if she blushed all over.
"I...was wondering if I could touch it?" It was more of a question than a statement. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shifted uncomfortably in her chair. This seemed like such an insane thing to her, but she really wanted to do this. It was driving her insane not knowing what his face felt like.
He smiled, his eyes sparkled mischievously. "Why of course, Harley. Your wish, my desire." He leaned forward slightly unable to help himself. She was so beautiful; he could look at her all day. Her lips were exactly right and her eyes were a gorgeous sky blue. He hadn't seen the sky in a very long time. But, now he could. His heart accelerated a bit more. Her floral scent was intoxicating.
Harley walked forward, forcing her feet to keep moving. Mind over matter. Will over instinct. She sat down carefully on the small empty space on the couch. Her hand slowly moved forward, heading towards his cheek. Her mind went wild. What would if feel like? Did she really want to know? Would it ruin her imagination? "Are you sure?"
He rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said quietly. He turned his face toward her hand. Then he froze still as a statue. He didn't want to frighten her away. His heart pumped wildly in his chest and he was feverishly hot.
Harley forced her hand onward. She let out just a little gasp as she felt his skin. It was so soft. Just like she thought it would be. The chemicals hadn't destroyed it, but kept it young. Her fingers traced over his bones, marveling at the amazing structure. It was so wild and unique.
He thought he would literally explode when she touched him. Her hand barely brushing his skin. If his arms hadn't been trapped in the straight jacket he would have grabbed her. She was so close. He met her eyes with his. She seemed in a daze. "Kiss me, Harley," he whispered.
Her body leaned forward of it's own accord, her mind swimming in a haze. Everything in the room was spinning except for the couch. She ran one of her hands through his hair slowly, moving closer inch by inch. Her heart was pounding faster and harder as her face heated up. Her whole body was heating up. Then, in one moment she had kissed him. Nothing serious. No, it was one of those kisses that meant more than a make out session. It was a "first kiss" type of kiss.
He flexed the muscles in his arm straining against the material. He wanted to touch her so badly. He kissed her softly a first. Lips barely brushing. Then he leaned forward deepening into the kiss. His tongue traced her perfect, pink bottom lip. She tasted so good. Delicious. His lips were manipulating, carefully shifting between dominating and aggressive and sweet. He wanted to make her breathless. He wanted to hear her moan. Feel her give in.
There wasn't even any thinking involved. She just let go and kissed him back, hands moving to touch ever inch of exposed skin, which wasn't very much. Her breathing became a little faster as the kissing continued. Her hair came down out of it's loose ponytail. She found herself wishing he didn't have the damn chains or the stupid straight jacket on.
Just when Harley had finally touched his tongue with hers, Joker heard a knock. He wanted to ignore it. Maybe he was hearing things. He really, really hoped so. But, the knock happened again and he heard a muted voice through the door, "Miss Quinzel?" He growled in the back of his throat. Not now. Not Now.
Harleen practically flew away from the Joker, quickly pulling her hair back up and smoothing down her clothes. Then she took a few seconds to catch her breath. Finally, when her face had cooled down a bit, she opened the door. "Sorry about keeping you waiting. I had to put my things on my desk." As the guards took the Joker away she smiled sweetly at him, hoping to see him soon. She caught her heart fluttering and didn't know what to do. Was she seriously falling in love? No. That was impossible.
The Joker said nothing as the guards took him away. He just looked at Harley as if his life depended on it. He was afraid if he'd open his mouth he would super nova. How dare they take him away just when she was just realizing it. He needed more time with her. He had never reacted so much to someone. She looked delectable. Her hair still falling down strands of it caught under her collar. She was gorgeous. Femme Fatale. Naturally seductive some called it. He called it talent.
Just before the Joker went around the corner, a more insane part of her took over and blew a goofy little kiss. She rushed back to her purse, feeling a painful emotion run through her veins. It was a mix of longing, shock, and excitement. Imagine writing this in her book. No, she couldn't. Maybe she shouldn't even write the book. Could she betray him like that?
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''
This room was so horrible. All the inmates were being watched by at least one guard each, weights chained to their feet. The food looked less than edible. She wrinkled her nose, leaning against the wall gently. Today, she had had more time in the morning, so she was in her normal uniform. Why was it that every doctor had to serve in the cafeteria once in a while? It was so depressing.
His guard had forced him to sit down at an empty table and then chained his ankles to a steel ring on the floor. His straight jacket was off which was nice. He rolled his shoulders. It felt nice to be able to do that again. He looked mournfully at his slop. It seemed to be radioactive and he had had enough of radioactivity to last a lifetime and beyond. The other inmates seemed to avoid him. Good. They should. That would be safer for everyone. He ran a hand through his shining emerald hair. Damn. Why did they think this would be beneficial? He would prefer to have time in his cell. Alone. He didn't like people. Only one person and she would never be in the cafeteria with the inmates. Shit. He jiggled his plate watching the slop slide from one side to another. Until he suddenly felt something. A tingling. She was here after all. He looked up and spotted her easily. She was gorgeously sexy like always. He smiled. This wouldn't be so bad after all.
Harley looked around the room bored, trying to keep interested in what was going on. Watching criminal interaction was supposed to be a learning experience. None of them really interacted. Then she spotted him. Her heart beat a little faster and a weight seemed to be lifted off her shoulders. He was sitting alone. Maybe she should go visit him. She started moving his way when another inmate stepped in front of her. One she hadn't talked to before.
"Hey, babyface. I have a riddle for you." The tall inmate said. The Riddler loved his games. He chuckled, "Who's classically dashing, witty, and made for you??" He was tall and his riddles were stupid. Even a dumb ass could tell him the answer before he got the first word from his fucked up mouth. Joker watched closely. He shoved his hand in his pocket.
Harleen looked at him blankly, the smile wiped completely off of her face, "I believe my answer would not be the one you're looking for." She tried to move past him, but found her way blocked. "Please excuse me, sir." Damn. Not good.
The Riddler frowned, "I'll give you some more hints. How about what's green and goes boom??" He couldn't wait for the answer, "Me, of course! I think you should kiss me for that!" He grabbed her roughly by the neck and leaned down. Suddenly the Joker was right beside him. He had never been more angry in his life. His vision was red and hazy. His blood pounded furiously through his veins. "GET AWAY FROM HER, BASTARD," he screamed, laughing hysterically. The Riddler shoved Harley away forcefully and turned toward his attacker. The Joker barely felt himself move as he shoved the small letter opener into the Riddler's side. Blood spurted out dripping onto Joker's hand. He gripped a pale, white hand around the man's neck. He was still laughing madly. The room was out of focus, a blur. Uncontrollable. He leaned close to the man's ear, "Never, ever touch her or you will die, I promise." He twisted his hand that still gripped the letter opener in the man's side and he heard a bloodcurdling scream. Good. Good. He laughed crazily satisfied.
A small scream flew from Harley's lips as her head flew into the floor. She hit the ground hard. Her skull felt like it was going to split open. The only thing she could see was a hazy gray, blood-flecked floor, which was turning black at the edges. The only thing she could hear was laughter. "Joker?" She asked, her voice only a whisper. Slowly, she lost consciousness, slipping into the warm darkness.
Joker paced his solitary confinement cell. He was back in a straight jacket again. A heavy duty one. They made him change his clothes and wash his hands to get all the blood off. He leaned back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He hoped the Riddler would die. They had rushed him out in a stretcher which sounded hopeful. He'd lost a lot of blood. Needless to say the cafeteria was evacuated. They had to clean up the mess. His stomach growled. Man, he was hungry. His thoughts circled back to Harley. He hoped she was all right. He hadn't really seen her after the Riddler pushed her. She should be fine though, right? But...shouldn't he have heard her. She would have said something. Done something. She wasn't one to stand around. He had a empty feeling in his gut. Shit.
Harley woke up in the hospital that afternoon. It had been so confusing. She had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there. What had really freaked her out though, was how her senses slowly came back. At first she was so warm, then the cold slowly came back around her. The world was so cold. There were so many people around her, asking if she was all right. Her answers became automatic. Finally she got to talk to Dr. Leland. "What happened after I passed out?" As she was told the story, her heart fluttered a bit. She couldn't believe he had done that for her. It was demented in a way, for sure, but it reminded her of a crush.
According to the medical staff she had a minor concussion and would be staying there two more days just in case. After everyone had left she pulled out her purse quickly, digging around for his picture. She missed him already.
A psychiatrist came to the small window in his prison. It was the head one. The woman. He couldn't remember her name. Only that he drove her crazy in their sessions. He didn't move just looked at her as she stared at him. She seemed puzzled, "Why did you do it?" He ignored her, but his thoughts about Harley were forcing their way back into his mind. He said it without thinking, "Where is Harleen?" The psychiatrist kept her mouth wisely closed. A minute or so passed. The Joker was tired of being stared at. He didn't back down from her gaze though. He met it confidently. She spoke again, "That is the first we have ever seen of you doing something for someone else. Why would that be?" The Joker blinked. He hadn't even thought of that. How did she think of that? He kept his eyes on hers. His thoughts whirling in his head. He did do something for her. But..he couldn't just let the Riddler make her do something she didn't want to. He felt livid when he thought of someone else touching her. Harley was his. His only. He stabbed the Riddler to make that crystal clear.
Finally, Harley was allowed to go back to her apartment. The first thing she did was find a nice frame for that picture. That way it wouldn't get as banged up and wrinkled. She started to carry it around with her as a representation of him. It made her feel safe and not as lonely. She took it everywhere she went, turning it around if she didn't want him to see something. Every free moment of her time was focused on this case. No, she wasn't writing a book anymore. This was about more than a book. This was about saving him. About fixing him. How dare they lock him in that damn cell! He had just been protecting her!
The psychiatrist thankfully couldn't read his mind. "I'll be watching," she said as she turned around and walked away. His gaze flickered up to the security camera whose eerie red light blinked every few seconds. It was a reminder. He was always being watched. He loved being the center spotlight though. That's when he really shined.
Harley laid down on her bed, holding the photograph close to her chest. "You don't think I'm crazy. Do you, Mister Joker?" She asked it. There was a response. There always was. She nodded and smiled, not able to fall asleep.