Author's Note: Well, I was so inspired by the Joker Blogs and Mad Love (which is evident in this chapter) that I had to go and post some more for you guys. So you get a two-fer. Just make sure you've already read the previous chapter as I've only posted them a day apart. So enjoy! I know I did.

Harley tore open the doors to Arkham Asylum and quickly glanced around the lobby before running toward the elevators. She knew why Joan had called. It was him. He was back. She had to see him and make sure he was okay.

She pressed the UP button several times, her breath heavy and ragged. Losing her patience, she ditched the elevator and opted for the stairs instead. Throwing the door to the stairwell open, Harley ran up the steps two at a time, ignoring the pain growing in her side from lack of exercise.

When she reached the criminal unit, she rammed her way through the stairwell door and turned sharply onto the main corridor, her feet sliding across the floor like a scene from Risky Business. It was there that she stopped as she took in the sight in front of her.

Several orderlies were huddled around something in the middle of the corridor. To their left, Joan and Warden Sharpe stood overseeing the goings-on. With them was none other than the Batman. One of the orderlies shifted his feet, revealing a purple clothed leg ending in a brown, scuffed shoe.

She knew it was him and, given the silence, he was unconscious. What had that bastard bat done to him! Her brain finally connecting with her feet, Harley rushed forward.

"Everyone move aside!" She commanded. "I'm his doctor."

The group of orderlies parted for her, the one nearest to her turning to face her. It was Charlie, that prick who wouldn't leave her alone when she started here. He met her eyes then looked back down at the incapacitated Joker and gave him a hard kick in the side. As if they were somehow connected, Harley winced in pain. It took all her willpower not to lunge forward and claw the little weasel's eyes out.

"Don't touch him!" Batman growled, scaring Charlie back a few feet. "He's no threat to you now."

Always the upstanding hero, wasn't he? At least right now he was protecting her angel.

Harley rushed to the Joker and knelt beside him. She had never seen him in his make-up before unless it was in pictures. The sight of his war paint, especially up close was terrifying yet exciting. The colors were starting to run together from the sweat, sinking into the cracks in his skin. God, even through the paint, he looked half-dead. She reached out a hand and gingerly brushed the damp hair from his forehead. She had thought it was damp from sweat, but now she could see the now-dried blood coming from his hairline.

"What have they done to you?" She said loud enough that only he could hear, had he been awake.

"You should get him to a cell," Batman said in that annoyingly gravelly voice. "before the sedatives wear off."

"Joan, I'd like to stay with him until he wakes up… So I can get some answers from him." Harley added, looking up at the weathered woman.

"Well, that's rather unorthodox, Doctor." Warden Sharpe cut in. "Surely, any questioning can wait until your next scheduled session."

"I'll be more likely to get more information out of him if he's still slightly disoriented." Harley countered, standing to face them. "Joan, you know he'll talk to me. I need to be there for him. He needs to be able to count on me… as a psychiatrist."

"Warden, I believe letting Dr. Quinzel stay with the patient will be beneficial to all of us." Joan persuaded the bald curmudgeon.

"I can't be at this all night." He answered before walking towards the elevators. "Do as you wish."

With that the elevator doors opened and Warden Sharpe stepped in. Joan then turned around and opened her mouth to say something to the Batman, only to find that he was gone. After a moment of recovery, she turned to the group of orderlies huddled on the other side of hall.

"Charlie, I'm putting you on suspension for a week. Turn in your ID at reception." She said, the prick staring open-mouthed at her. "The rest of you, please escort Dr. Quinzel and the patient back to his cell."

The orderlies quickly got to their new task, each picking up one of the Joker's limbs and hauling him to the elevator. Harley started to follow the struggling procession, but Joan motioned for her.

"Harley, I'd like you to continue your regular sessions with the Joker along with an additional session on the weekends if you're up to it. We can pay you the overtime. Arkham's budget is slim, but if it can go toward keeping the most dangerous man in Gotham locked up safe, it's worth it. I'd like a full report by tonight."

Harley nodded and Joan followed suit. Without another word, Joan walked toward the elevator where the orderlies were now waiting for Harley's arrival. Just as Warden Sharpe had done, Joan stepped onto the elevator and disappeared behind the sliding doors. Harley then joined the orderlies and they began their ascent to max. sec.

It was a surreal experience watching the Joker sleep. At first he was still, as the drugs were still in his system. As they wore off though, he shifted seamlessly into a natural sleep. Harley imagined he must be exhausted after whatever it was he went through out there. It was amazing how harmless and human he was as he slept; how he twitched and occasionally snored just like everyone else. Though, even in slumber, she could feel the raw energy and power radiating from him.

She had set up a chair in front of his cell. At first she had watched him diligently, hoping that at any moment he would wake up and be happy to see her. Eventually, watching him sleep so peacefully began to make her tired as well. For a while, she struggled to keep her eyes open. She didn't want to miss the moment he was awake. She had to stay alert. She had to…

"Mistah J?" Little Harley called out.

She could feel his presence but he was nowhere to be found. She was running down that dark, deserted suburban street again. She wasn't as alone as it appeared though. The voices began to fade in, louder and louder until they enveloped her. The voices of her childhood classmates surrounding her. "Harley Quinn, Harley Quinn" they repeated over and over and over. She tried to block them out but they penetrated straight to her core. She wanted to scream, to tell them to shut the fuck up and leave her alone. She wanted to hunt down each and every one of them and bash their fucking skulls in.

"Harley Quinn." They said again.

But wait, it wasn't her classmates speaking anymore. It was him.

"Mistah J?" She called hopefully.

"Rework it a bit and you get Harley Quinn." His voice echoed from some unknown place.

Her heart swelled with joy every time she heard him utter that name. Somehow, when he said it, it just felt right.

Harley's clipboard slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor, startling her out of her dream. She jerked in her chair and looked around her. It was silent and dark. It must still be night. She looked at the Joker. He was still fast asleep. Her heart ached immensely to see him locked behind that glass wall, battered and bruised. How long before this happened again, she wondered. She knew he would escape again, as soon as the opportunity presented itself. But once he was out there in the world, she couldn't do anything to protect him. Either way, she was dissatisfied. She had to do something.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Puddin'." She said softly.

Taking a broken chunk of curb from the side of the road, Harley chucked it at the door of Kathy's Kostumes, shattering the glass and giving Her an entrance. Inside, she found exactly what she needed. Grabbing a costume from one of the racks in the back, she quickly threw it on and started to leave. A thought struck her and Harley returned to the cash register of the closed up shop and left payment on the counter. She couldn't just steal from Kathy. What had the woman ever done to her?

Her next stop was the gun shop, and she would need plenty. This task wasn't quite as easy as the costume shop had been. The gun store had a security system that went into effect as soon as she shattered the front door. Moving quickly, she grabbed as many guns and boxes of ammo as she could carry in her arms, as well as some explosive clay and got out of there before the cops showed up.

The Joker was having a lovely little dream about skinning someone when a large explosion rudely shook him from his sleep. Fully alert, he clumsily fell off of his cot and, sitting on the floor, looked to where his bulletproof glass wall used to be. Now there was only smoke and debris. As it settled, he could make out what could only be the outline of his voluptuous doctor. She was wearing a formfitting black and red jester costume with diamonds on it. In her hand was a semi-automatic. Never in his life had he seen such an arousing image.

"Mistah J," She said in that obnoxiously adorable accent. "Say hello to your new and improved Harley Quinn!"

Well, it gets quite interesting from here on out. Are you excited? As alway, continue to review/alert/favorite and there shall be more soon!