A/N: My impending cross-country move is interfering with regular posting, but thank you for sticking with me. Big thank you to my reviewers - you keep me motivated!

"Tonight we have with us the controversial Dr. Jeremiah Arkham. Thanks for being with us, Dr. Arkham."

"You're welcome, Mr. Engle, although I'd hardly call myself controversial."

"You can't deny, Dr. Arkham, that your attempts at rehabilitating Jonathan Crane, otherwise known as The Scarecrow, has sparked city-wide protests, forcing the police to man the gates to Arkham bridge. We've had reports that only credentialed employees of the Asylum, The Mayor and Commissioner Gordon are allowed to cross the bridge to Arkham Island."

"I don't deny there have been protests, only that my work is controversial. Doctor...Jonathan Crane was sentenced to our asylum after being convicted for his role in Fright Night. The purpose of our institution is to treat the clinically insane, and as director, it's my job to make sure that patients like Dr. Crane are getting proper treatment. It's our hope that he can be a fully-functioning member of society again."

"Yet you're getting ready to publish a book about his case, and have applied for federal grant money for your institution based solely on your 'success' with Dr. Crane. Isn't it true the asylum had to declare bankruptcy after former asylum director Jonathan Crane's arrest? And there are many who think you've taken over the asylum solely for self-promotion. Your book deal alone is rumored to be a multi-million dollar contract."

Arkham smiled benignly to the camera, then glanced back to Engle. "Was there a question in there, Mr. Engle, or have you run out of rumors to discuss?"

"They wouldn't be rumors if you confirm or deny any one of them tonight."

"The general public is very interested in my work with Dr. Crane... who wouldn't be... a psychiatrist turned criminal, who went from running one of the country's leading asylums to being one of its most notorious patients. Yes, the book deal will generate a good deal of money, all of which will be funneled back into restoring and upgrading the asylum."

"So you deny that your book deal is just a money-making stunt for self-promotion."

"I was approached by the publisher, not the other way around, Mr. Engle."

"And yet, wasn't Jonathan Crane appointed as your replacement eight years ago because of your lack of success with patient rehabilitation?"

Arkham ceased smiling. "Pure fiction. I desired to start my own practice and Dr. Crane had excellent credentials. Of course, at that time, he'd shown absolutely no signs of his insanity."

"What about the shooting at the university, resulting in him being fired from his professorship?"

"At the time, we simply felt he was very young and enthusiastic about teaching psychology. In hindsight, it could be construed as an early warning sign, but we cannot change the past, just learn from it and move on."

"Speaking of moving on, why did you decide to leave your private practice and re-establish yourself as the asylum's director, and only after Dr. Crane was sentenced?"

"The asylum is the family business, if you will; I always intended to resume my position. Leading such an established institution as Arkham Asylum is more than a full time job, it is my life. I wanted time away to refine my therapy techniques, and the few years of private practice allowed me to do just that. The timing of my return was simply coincidental; I was ready, and the asylum was in need of a new director."

"Why didn't you have any success with The Joker?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Joker had been in and out of the Asylum numerous times after his initial arrest, and was arguably the Asylum's highest profile patient. And yet, you had no success with him, did you, Doctor?"

Arkham grimaced and sat back in his chair. "The Joker's psychosis was such that rehabilitation was extremely unlikely. He was clinically insane, but even I don't believe there is a therapy technique in existence today that could have truly reach him."

"So why did you repeatedly insist you could treat him, when he should have been sent to Blackgate prison?"

"As I said, he was clinically insane, however I did not say that we couldn't help him; I merely said he would never have been fully rehabilitated. I think he was capable of learning to control his aggression and narcissism, and could have become less of a danger to society."

"What made you think you could help him?"

"While I don't believe there is a therapy technique that could fully restore him, there is one technique that shows promise in patients who are extremely emotionally stunted."

"Is that the technique you are using on Dr. Crane?"

"Not yet, however I believe it could be the key to Dr. Crane's recovery."

"How long do you think it will be before you release Dr. Crane back into the general populace?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked me that Mike, it's the real reason I agreed to come on your show tonight. Just prior to Dr. Crane's arrest, one of our young doctors was finishing her internship, and she specialized in this particular therapy technique... art therapy. It is not commonly taught and is still relatively under-utilized in our profession, so when she left our facility, so did her work. At the time, she worked under Dr. Crane's supervision, and he was not a believer in the efficacy of her treatments. However in reviewing his case notes, I can see that she was making progress with several of her patients. Ironically for him, I believe it is the one thing that can truly help him, however, we have lost track of our young doctor in the intervening years. So, Mr. Engle, I'm here tonight to make a public offer to Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Dr. Quinzel, Arkham Asylum would love to have you back on our team; please contact me directly at the asylum, we have your badge and security clearance ready if you are."

Engle blinked a few times before turning to the camera. "There you have it folks, Dr. Jeremiah Arkham asking for assistance in the treatment of Jonathan Crane. Dr. Quinzel, we wish you the best of luck, wherever you are."

(Wayne Manor)

"Sir, were you planning on reading that paper, or squeezing it to death?"

Bruce looked at the crushed newspaper in his hands and angrily tossed it on the floor. "I have to talk to her, Alfred."

"Perhaps not right now, sir; you might scare Miss Harleen in your current state."

Bruce looked at Alfred, and then sagged into the arm chair facing the television. Listlessly, he grabbed the remote and clicked off the news, then rubbed his temples. "This is bad, Alfred, very bad. This is has to be some kind of setup."

"To what purpose, sir?"

"I don't know, but it can't just be a coincidence that the Joker crimes are escalating and now Arkham suddenly wants to hire her... to treat Crane of all people? You heard Arkham, Harley was just an intern there, and since then she's spent all her time with Joker, and now me, not working in some private practice refining HER techniques!" Bruce grumbled and started pacing. "I don't know who is crazier, Crane or Arkham... Crane knows he's a menace and doesn't care, but Arkham wants to turn him loose in the city... AGAIN! That's just what we need... a Joker and a Scarecrow, with Harley in the middle of it all."

"And yourself, sir."

Bruce stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. "...and me." Leaning his forehead against the wall, he tiredly punched the hard-paneled support. "Things were almost... good... Alfred. Spending time with her... it... it helps me. I can't explain it, but being with her is like taking a vacation from all this." He waved his hand demonstratively, and spun around, leaning his back against the wall. "I thought if I could just stop these Joker crimes, if Joker would just STAY DEAD, maybe I could take a break..."

"If anyone deserves a break, Master Bruce, it's you, and don't you give up just yet. Miss Harleen may not be as anxious as you think to be thrust into the spotlight; she's still here."

"For now."

"Only one way to find out, sir. I think maybe it's time for that little chat now."

Bruce strode out of the living room, and Alfred picked up the crumpled newspaper, straightening it as he followed. Stopping short, his eyes widened as he stared at the page; Harley's smiling, slightly younger, face stared back at him.

(Carriage House)

"Harley?" Bruce waived his hand in front of her, uselessly. He'd arrived a minute prior and entered to see her pacing back and forth, hands emphasizing the barely audible mumbles coming from her. Finally, he stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders, and barely kept her from running directly into him.

"Bruce!" She rubbed her eyes and blinked at him. "Jesus, I didn't even see you there."

"I just got here..." He appraised her carefully, and frowned. "Are you ok?"

She tensed, then sagged against him, gently but repeatedly knocking her forehead against his chest. "Why now? It doesn't make any sense! Why would Arkham want to hire me now? He said himself Crane hated my art therapy, and he wasn't lying." She grabbed Bruce's hand and led him to the couch. "Crane thought what I did was utterly baseless, quack psychology... even if Arkham was right and Crane needs that now, Crane would never allow it to work."

Bruce, grabbed both her hands and held them gently. "I don't like it, and I don't like you coming into the public eye like this. Not with everything that's going on... its too dangerous."

"Its too late now, isn't it? Arkham just shoved me under the spotlight whether we wanted it or not." Bitterly, she shook her head.

Seeing her expression, Bruce grimaced. "No, you don't have to do this. I don't want you to do this."

"Bruce, everyone will be looking for me now."

"There is always a choice. Your last known address was completely demolished and for all anyone knows, you along with it."

"What about the people who've seen us out together? Somebody is bound to recognize me sooner or later, and what about you, Bruce? If anyone remembers I was with you, you'll be in the spotlight too."

Bruce smirked. "I'm used to it, trust me, I can handle it." Growing serious again, he squeezed her hands. "Promise me you won't decide tonight. Think about this, please; you don't have to do this, I can keep the press, and anyone else, away from you until this blows over."

She smiled sadly. "You and I both know it's not going to 'blow over' for a long time, not with the publicity surrounding Dr. Crane's rehabilitation."

"Arkham might drop it, though, if you don't turn up in the next week or so."

She sat quietly for a few minutes, curling up next to him and tucking her head under his chin, pondering all that he'd said. Quietly, she spoke. "Bruce, what if Arkham really does need my help? Mike Engle was absolutely right when he said Arkham didn't have any success the first time he ran the Asylum. I only heard staff rumors, but those rumors were pretty bad: skimming off the top, patients neglected... from what I heard, Arkham never helped a single patient, and now he's suddenly having "success" with Crane?"

"If that's true, then he wants you to do the work and keep the glory for himself."

"But Dr. Crane's sanity hangs in the balance...I don't want the press; he can have it. Dr. Crane may not have respect for my work, but he was a brilliant psychologist. He could be again."

"At least let me try to find someone else?"

"Most art therapists work with children and families, not convicted felons." She sighed. "I might just be the only qualified person who also happens to have experience with the clinically insane."

(Later that Night)

Lying silently next to a restlessly sleeping Bruce, Harley stared at the shadows swaying across the ceiling as the breeze brushed through the bedroom-window curtains. She imagined ever-changing shapes from the shadows, but all of them were disturbing: first a hawk-nosed face, then a distorted man in a top hat, followed by a dark mountain top, and on they went. The shadows weren't simply sparking her imagination, they were haunting memories of her Asylum patients' artwork. Dr. Crane had insisted on keeping everything her patients had created, despite his professed opposition to the technique; he considered them part of the highly confidential case notes and locked them away in his office. She wondered if Arkham would insist on doing the same... although... she had leverage now. Arkham was seeking her help, offering her a job; the negotiations would be entirely on her terms or she could easily walk. She relished the possibility of being a respected member of her field, which had always been her dream, and sensed potential for control over her life in a way she hadn't been for years. Deep down, she already knew, the minute Arkham spoke the words, she'd say yes, despite Bruce's very legitimate concerns. Of course, his concerns weren't exactly the same as hers; he was afraid the copy-cat Joker might seek her out, but she stayed quietly convinced of who it really was. Being in the public spotlight would flush him out one way or the other, and she could finally know, once and for all, whether he was still alive, even though it meant her safety. Slowly, a smile stole over her face as the shadows danced to a livelier rhythm; Arkham had implied her therapy might have been able to reach Joker... but she knew it did, and it was time to stop hiding. She only hoped she could keep Bruce out of the path of the coming storm.