Joker woke up feeling even more groggy then he did before sleeping. He didn't even remember falling asleep. Harley sat at the edge of the bed smiling at him.

"Mornin' puddin'," she greeted, "But I guess it ain't really mornin' cause it's three o'clock, huh Mistah J,"

He cringed and wondered why becoming Harley Quinn had made her voice so annoying.

"Yeah," he grumbled.

"I've been watchin' ya sleep for like three hours. Ya so sweet, like an angel," she sighed, "Well sorta, not really,"

He ignored her and got out of bed.

"Stay in bed honey, I can make breakfast. Do ya like pancakes, I can make pancakes. Or waffles. Wait no, ya need a waffle iron. Unless ya have one but really I guess waffles and pancakes are the same thing. Kinda, I dunno. Which do ya like more? Cause I can make either, do ya want me to, I will," she said energetically with out taking a break to breathe.

"I don't want anything," he responded.

"Really? What about oatmeal? I can make hot chocolate too. Well, anyone can do that I guess," she giggled, "Ya just poor it in. But I'll get ya some if ya want it,"

"No Harley," he groaned, "I don't think I even have hot chocolate mix,"

"C'mon Mistah J lemme take care of you. I can make breakfast and then we can come back here and I can take really good care of you," Harley Quinn said suggestively draping her arms around his neck.

He shoved her arms off him.

"Are ya feelin' okay Mistah J," she attempted to feel his forehead which caused him to nearly push her off the bed.

"I'm fine Harley,"

"Okay but I still think you should eat somethin," she followed him out of the bedroom, "I noticed ya have these really bad dark circles and that may be from not, ya know, eating or sleeping,"

"Dark circles, how did you notice I had dark circles?" he asked angrily.

"Well, I uh I took off your make up while you were asleep," she said shyly looking at the floor.

He grabbed her hair and forced her to look at him, "Why?" he growled.

"Cause ya had Joey's blood all over ya and that's just icky," Harley whined, "Can ya let go Mistah J, this hurts,"

Joker shoved her aside, "Don't ever do that again,"

He stormed back into his bedroom do redo his make up. Harley followed him like a puppy.

"Why puddin'? If it's about the scars ya don't have ta be embarrassed. Ya don't have to wear make up around me I don't mind them at all. I think ya handsome Mistah J,"

"Mistah J, Mistah J, Mistah J," he mocked in a whiny voice as he smeared paint across his face.

"I guess ya not a morning person huh Mistah J," Harley giggled.

"Damn it Harley, do you ev-er shut up," he said exasperated.

"Sorry, it's not even morning," she answered sadly.

"I'm gonna be in my office, don't bother me," he finished his make up and pushed past Harley.

"Whatevah ya say Mistah J," she followed him, "But what should I do while ya workin'?"

"I don't care," he stormed into the room slamming the door behind him.

"Okay puddin," Harley sighed, "What should I do taday?" she asked herself.

She decided it might be fun to explore the apartment building a little more closely. That would keep her occupied until Mr. J was in a better mood.

She skipped down the hall and looked around. She looked towards a flight of stairs and decided she would start exploring there. After climbing the stairs she came to another short hallway lined with doors.

"Hmmm," she looked thoughtfully at the lines of doors, "Eenie meanie miney mo," she began pointing to each door, "Catcha tiger by the toe, if he hollas let em go, eenie meanie miney mo," she chose which apartment to go into, "Hello," she called as she walked in the door.

Joker had said no one but he and his men lived in the apartment building, the upstairs was completely empty.

"Anybody home?" she called as a precaution, "Guess not," she said to herself as she examined the room.

The small apartment was like most in the Narrows. Dirty and dingy with peeling wallpaper and stained carpets. It was a mess with most of the previous owner's possessions still lying around. They must have been in a hurry to leave when the Joker arrived in their building. That or they just never made it out.

Harley looked around the room for anything interesting, there wasn't much to look at though. She went down a narrow hallway which led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. The bathroom looked horribly filthy so she decided to look around one of the bedrooms. She stepped into the room nearest to her. Though it was shades of dull gray and brown, Harley could tell it had been a little girl's room by the messy stuffed animals piled on the bed. She approached the bed and picked up a ratty teddy bear with a missing eye. Then she noticed a doll amidst the plush animals. She took the doll replacing it with the bear.

It was dirty like the other toys. Her blond hair was matted and falling out in some places. She loved dolls when she was a little girl. She could entertain herself for hours pretending to be a mother. It made her wonder what became of this little doll's "mother". She felt a little sad looking into the doll's plastic, blue eyes. So she decided to take it with her. The rest of the bedroom contained normal little girl things. Though most of the toys and clothes were dirty and torn due to the poverty in the Narrows.

Harley went back into the living room to search some more. She noticed a shelf with with several DVD cases piled on it.

"Cinderella," she gasped picking up the case, "I loved this when I was little," she said to the doll.

She grabbed a few more Disney princess movies and the Wizard of Oz.

"That reminds me," she stated upon finding the movie, "We should go see Jonathan,"

Jonathan Crane sat in his own apartment with in the Joker's building. He hated it there. It was absolutely disgusting. He had no idea who lived in the apartment before him but they had to be the world's worst house keepers. Every inch of the apartment was covered in filth. He had attempted to clean it up but failed to since the apartment contained a very limited selection of cleaning supplies. He made a note to have Spades get some when he bought him laughing gas ingredients. That is if he didn't die in this hell hole first. Between the unhygienic apartment building and the fact that his boss was Gotham's most wanted criminal, he assumed his chances of survival were slim.

He pondered whether he would prefer mold spores in his lungs or being chopped in to little pieces as he jotted down some ideas for the Joker's laughing gas. Though he had no idea where to begin with the chemical. Crane actually hated the idea. He gassed people in the name of science, not for fun. Scarecrow did that. But even Scarecrow hadn't killed anyone, not directly. He let his victims destroy themselves. It was really more interesting that way. He loved to see the mind's power over the body, it was fascinating. The Joker would never appreciate that. All that madman wanted was blood and guts swiftly followed by something that went BOOM! But Jonathan was not about to tell him no, sure he had some mental health issues but he wasn't suicidal.

Just then he heard a knock at the door. He groaned and stood to answer it. As if it wasn't bad enough he was forced to waste his time on a deadly laughing gas, he had to deal with visitors to. He opened the door.

"Hiya Jonny!" Harley exclaimed bouncing in the doorway.

"Hello Dr. Quinzel," sighed Jonathan.

"Call me Harley," she corrected, "Can I come in,"

He looked at the baby doll and DVDs in her arms, "Why?"

"Ta visit," she walked into his apartment and dropped her things on a near by coffee table, "Look," she said excitedly holding up the Wizard of Oz.

"The Wizard of Oz," he said flatly.

"Well yeah, Inspector Obvious," she laughed, "I thought you'd like it, ya know with the Scarecrow and all," she flopped down on the couch, "Sooo what's Jonny up to taday?"

"Well I was working on the Joker's fear gas,"

"Yay," she squealed, "That's a pretty neat idea huh, ain't Mistah J the greatest?"

"Yeah he's pretty great," mumbled Jonathan.

"I know," Harley agreed obviously she hadn't detected Jonathan's sarcasm, "I dunno how he does it, how he comes up with these great ideas. He's so smart,"

Crane watched as Harley chipped nail polish off her nails, he was still confused by her new found identity. It disturbed him, yet intrigued him at the same time. What would cause a normal, successful women to become a homicidal clown girl?

"Can I ask you something Dr. Qui- I mean Harley?" he sat down beside her.

"Sure,"

"Why the Joker? You are attractive, intelligent, you were a very successful psychiatrist. Honestly you could have any man you wanted, why would you do this?" he asked the psychiatrist in himself becoming interested in Harley's psychosis.

"Are ya sayin' he's not good enough for me?" she said with a hint of anger.

"I'm not saying that, it's just that... well you know his mental state better than I do. I mean he is a sociopath," Jonathan explained.

"He isn't crazy Jonathan," she snapped, "Sorry Jonny," she apologized for getting mad, "I should be more understanding, I can;t expect ya to understand him like I do. Ya see, Mistah J is just well different. Sure he's got some issues but he's not crazy,"

"Do you honestly believe that?" he asked.

Harley nodded, "He just does things differently from everyone else. It's society that makes him out to be a bad guy,"

"Harley, he kills people," Jonathan reminded her.

"Nobody's perfect," she shrugged, "Besides I think that's a kind of a phase, he'll get bored of it soon,"

Jonathan couldn't believe what he was hearing. It would have been a bizarre statement coming from anyone especially a former psychiatrist and Arkham Asylum. She of all people should know murder isn't like that. That you can't "grow out" of insanity.

"So it does not bother you at all?" he asked, "You do not mind that he has taken hundreds of innocent lives and will most definitely continue murdering and causing chaos,"

"Jonny, nobody's completely innocent,"

"What has he done to you?" he shook his head, "I mean, what if he decides to kill you?"

Harley gasped, "He would nevah do that to me. How could ya say that? Mistah J loves me!"

"How can you be so sure he won't turn on you. You know as well as I the symptoms of an antisocial personality disorder," he responded flatly, "And let's be honest here, he doesn't have the capability to love,"

"You're one to talk Mr. D I D, Dissociative Identity Disorder. You dress up like a freakin' scarecrow, isn't that a little unconventional? Don't get all pretentious with me Dr. Crane," she said with air quotes, "I'm gettin' outa here," Harley gathered up her things and stormed out of Crane's apartment.

He didn't feel sorry for her, after all he tried to warn her. Tried to tell her from one mentally insane psychiatrist to another but she refused to listen. He sat back down and began taking notes for the Joker's laughing gas.

I am so excited Heath Ledger was nominated for an Oscar yesterday, a year after his death. I know he'll get it. He played the best Joker ever, I can never look at that character the same way again. Great job Heath.

So there's some Harley and Jonathan interaction. I loved writing them because they're kinda similar, both being Arkham Asylum doctors that completely lost it. I wasn't sure what to diagnose Jonathan/Scarecrow with, Dissociative Identity Disorder seemed pretty close. Basically it's split personality disorder. He is Jonathan Crane who acts and feels one way and the Scarecrow who has a completely different personality and way of thinking. So there's my diagnoses though I have never been to medical school.