PART III.
No Pleasure In A Gift

Harley's alarm clock went off at 5.30am. She groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes and flicking her blonde hair, which was now a total mess, out of her eyes.

Rolling out of bed, which was still littered with cheeseburgers and cakes, Harley remembered what had happened last night.

"Joker?" She called, as she went downstairs.

"Puddin'?" Harley tried again. She sighed and sat down at the kitchen table. The Joker's medical file lay open on the table. She was sure she had closed it..

Picking it up, a note fell out from the back.

I have business to attend to.
Mister J.

Harley's heart pounded. Business? He probably had a few people to kill off, she thought casually. She was surprised at how calmly she thought of that. What was happening to her? Putting her head in her hands, she felt like she wanted to cry and scream. Her head was pounding and she had never had her head so messed up like this before. She hoped Joker would be okay, what if he got caught and was sent back to Arkham? No, Puddin' is tough, she told herself sternly. Harley gave herself a shake and carefully folded up the note and put it in a kitchen drawer.

Dragging herself upstairs she had a quick shower and changed into her usual work clothes: short black mini skirt, white ruffled blouse, black plain heels and her overall lab coat.

Grabbing her briefcase and the Joker's medical file, she set out to work, grabbing a taxi.

"Arkham Asylum please." She said breathlessly to the taxi driver as she clambered into the back, shoving the Joker's file into the briefcase.

"Sure thing." The taxi driver said, squinting at her in the rear view mirror. Harley ignored him. She was quite used to men staring at her and flocking to her.

"Arkham you say?" The taxi driver said after ten minutes.

"Yes." Harley said wistfully as she stared out into the dull early morning.

"That mental place where they got that Joker dude locked up?" The taxi driver asked.

"I heard he escaped last night." Harley said through gritted teeth, giving a tiny shrug to the taxi driver who glanced at her in the mirror.

"Oh yeah, but apparently he got caught again this morning. He was found drunk out of his tree in a backstreet. He should have been left to die." The taxi driver said, taking a right.

Harley's heart pounded. She suddenly felt sick.

"He was found? Drunk?" She said.

"Yeah apparently. He's back in Arkham. You work there? Ya sure don't look like a shrink to me." The taxi driver said as he eyed her lab coat and briefcase as she got out the taxi which had pulled up outside Arkham Asylum.

"Who found him?" She asked, ignoring him.

"Batman."

Fucking Batman, she thought. What fully grown man dresses up as a big fucking bat to try and save a city that doesn't even need saving anyway? Then again, who dresses up like a clown to kill people? A lot of people, actually, she tried to convince herself with no avail.

She handed the taxi driver five dollars and hurried into Arkham.

"Where is he?" Harley demanded, slamming her briefcase on the receptionist's desk, still holding onto the handle. The receptionist looked up, startled, staring at Harley with big eyes behind her scarlet cat like glasses.

"I-I'm sorry?"

"The Joker! Where is he? He's my patient." Harley almost shouted.

"!" Harley turned around at the sound of her name. She sighed and rolled her eyes. It was her boss.

"What?" She snapped, walking over to him with her briefcase. Her boss looked taken aback at her tone but decided to ignore it for now.

"The Joker is back in his normal room. We found him this morning dr-"

"Drunk in a backstreet, yes I know. And you didn't find him, Batman did." Harley said as she pushed past him impatiently. Harley checked her watch; almost six thirty.

"Where are you going?" Her boss called as he hurried after her.

"I have a 6.30 morning session with him." She called behind her shoulder, not looking back.

"Do you not realise how much of a state he's in right now?" Her boss asked, incredulous.

Harley stopped and turned to face him, with a stone cold stare.

"All the more reason to see him then." Harley said. She turned on her heel and stalked down the corridor. "And I suggest you don't try and stop me." She called back to him, not looking around.

The Joker's eyes snapped open at the sound of Harleen Quinzel's voice. He was lying, strapped in his morning straight jacket, on a all too familiar bed that wasn't silk like Harley's, in his cell at Arkham fucking Asylum. The Joker fidgeted frustratedly, growling.

He heard the beep of the retina scan, the swipe of the swipe card and the sound of the sliding door. Dr. Harleen Quinzel came through the door, her hair a mess from aggravation and the wind, her lab coat on inside out and her blouse all rumpled. She didn't look the perfect vision as she always did.

She looked flustered when she practically threw herself into the Joker's room. She looked at him and blinked. Harley's body seemed to slack slightly in relief.

A guard (a new one, the Joker noticed with glee) had walked in behind Harley.

", are you alright?" The guard asked, a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it away.

"Get out." She ordered, not taking her eyes off the Joker's. He was now grinning broadly.

"I'm sorry?" The guard said.

"Get the fuck out of this room now." She said. "This is a private session and I don't want you or any one else even in a five foot radius of this room. "

The guard gave her a funny look, but walked out all the same, letting the door slide shut behind him. Joker and Harley listened to the sound of his footsteps fade away.

Joker and Harley stared at each other. Harley dropped her briefcase on the floor with a thump.

"Joker." She whispered. She looked at him properly and gasped. His left eye was bloody and swollen. His bottom lip was pulsing with blood, dripping down his chin and down his neck. His jaw looked bruised and battered. He had stitches in his forehead. He was a mess.

Harley walked over to the Joker and sat on his bed next to him. Joker just looked at her.

"Joker." She whispered again, reaching a hand out towards his face.

"Harley." He whispered back. Right there Harley Quinn and The Joker had a moment. A real moment.

"What did he do to you?" She whispered as she wiped the blood from his mouth and chin with the sleeve of her lab coat.

"I let him beat me up. Needed to feel pain. I got drunk too." The Joker shrugged, surprised at himself. He finds himself spouting out his heart, the truth to this woman at the most strangest of times. "I'll get him back though. I'll get him Harley."

"Of course you will, Puddin'." She replied, smiling as she began to unbuckle his straight jacket.

"Hurry up with these things." He said. Finally he was free. He motioned for Harley to lie down next to him.

"Puddin'?" She asked.

"Harley." He said.

"Did you attend to your business?" She asked, making patterns on his chest with her dainty manicured fingers. That strange feeling squeezed his stomach together.

"I did. I planted the bomb in the bank. It'll explode at exactly noon this afternoon." He said, giving her a smile as he stroked her blonde hair with dirty fingers. He wrapped an arm around her body, surprising himself. Still, he didn't move it away.

"Is it money you're after?" She asked.

"No. Well, sort of. I need to buy a new suit." He grinned. She smiled back.

"I could buy you one." She offered, blushing.

"Sweet but Harl, there's no pleasure in a gift. Buying something you want with someone else's stolen money – or the entire of Gotham City's money – is more satisfying. You get what I'm saying Harl?"

"I think. You're saying if you want something you should use other people to get it?" Harley said slowly, figuring it out in her head.

"Exactly Harl!" He said, clenching her hair in his hand in excitement.

She smiled proudly.

"Is it the same with everything, Puddin'?" She asked, her head on his chest now.

"Of course it is! You just take whatever the fuck you want." He said.

"Like murder. You take someone's life because you want to."

"Oh, my dear Harley. You are a natural, you know that?" Joker said, laughing, baring his yellow stained teeth.

"Why thank you Mistah J." She said, kicking off her heels. He noticed she'd used his signature. This made him almost glow.

"Why do you wear those silly things?" Joker asked, eyeing them on the floor, distracting himself from this weird glowing feeling. "Apart from they're good to stab someone with."

"They make me feel pretty." Harley said sheepishly.

"But you are pretty Harley. Most of the time." Joker replied.

Harley's heart went crazy inside her ribcage. She suddenly felt wanted and appreciated. Her spirits rose immensely.

"You were rather mean just." Joker pointed out.

Harley recalled the moment with her boss. She groaned.

"Yes I was."

"What's wrong with that? With sticking up for your self Harl?" Joker said.

"He'll probably end up firing me. And I was sticking up for you."

"No he won't, he enjoys perving on his young pretty blonde intern." Joker said. He felt her shudder. His arms tightened around her automatically. Protectively."And as for sticking up for me, well I can take care of myself."

"I know you can but I just panicked." Harley said defensively.

"It felt good though, didn't it?" Joker said giving her cheek a stroke. Harley didn't reply.

She had to admit though, it did feel good. It felt so damn fucking good. She felt strong, powerful.

"How are we going to get you back out of here?" Harley asked, looking at him. He smiled broadly at her again.

"Ah, that's for you to figure out. Break me out of here baby." Joker said, as he leant down close to her, his face inches from hers. She stopped breathing for a second..but the Joker simply leant forwards, his forehead touching hers and his eyes closed. His chest thumped painfully, he felt like his heart was going to explode.

The Joker wasn't capable of loving, he knew that. So what the fuck was that weird feeling that was tugging at his heart strings? Was Harleen Quinzel..changing him? The only person he'd ever loved was his mother, and even she was a fucked up little junkie.

"I will, I promise." Harley said, as she looked at his closed eyes. "I will."