So here it is - PART TWO! Have you ever had so many ideas floating around and just find it difficult to organize them? I feel this kind of happened here and if that makes is...less than it should than I apologize! But over-all I enjoyed writing this little BRIEF peak at our favorite crazy clown. Mentioned the Joker a bit more in this part and...I don't know. SHOULD I do a part 3 or a one-shot to take place after this?

This game was getting much to long. It was all fun in the beginning when they tip-toed around her (they still did) and she would snap at them, snarl and hiss, making them all think she was completely off her rocker. She wanted them to think that, to look at her and just see some crazy broad. Maybe she was playing it up a little to much. Setting off on some random ramble that if they listened close enough that just maybe they would learn something. They stopped giving her any female nurses or orderlies - the last was supposedly still drugged in a hospital bed somewhere with her face all taped and gauzed. How boring must that be? The highlight of the day must have been the bandage changes, but was she even conscious enough to realize? Harley doesn't think she would ever be able to bare such a boring existence. She always made her own fun, her own games and was always looking for someone to play with her.

Dear Dr. Parker was no fun. He never wanted to play the game right , but she was always flexible and able to tweak a few things here and there. It was fun to see him hiss at her and lose that carefully crafted persona, just like her Mistah J had done for her though she had no intentions of seeing this game all the way through. She was done playing with the doctors and nurses, tired of them pushing pills down her throat and shoving her into a cold cell. Dragging her out to small rooms where she saw the same faces and colors. She missed the blues and pinks and purples that made up her life. But most of all she missed the color green. They never saw her at night curled up in the corner of her cell or heard her whimpering for her Mistah J. They couldn't see the pain that was ripping at her heart and brain for being away so long. Day by day she was losing her smile and laughter and how mad he would be to know if she ever stopped smiling and laughing. He would be upset at her. He would be furious at them. She thought of what he might do to her, to them and it made the whimpering turn to giggles and then back to sadness because she wanted to go home.

This isn't fun anymore.

Her next few sessions went the same as the last - without the same result of an attack - doing nothing, but restrained to her chair and pouting, refusing to talk to the oh so brave doctor who wore the tattoos of her nails against his throat. She saw them peak out just over his collar and she bared her teeth in such a wide grin, flashing those pearly whites. "Want to see mine?" He seemed surprised to hear her, eyes snapping up from whatever notes he was writing and the surprise turned to confusion (nothing new - he never got the joke). But she didn't let him speak, he always did to much of that anyway.

"Want another?"

Metal scraped against steel as she plopped her bound wrists on the table, fingers flexing over and over and he stared. She was getting annoyed, tempted to see how far she could reach across, see if she could touch him - wrap her fingers around his throat and shake him until he got it. But he finally did. She just had to be patient, this one was a slow one. Dr. Parker seemed to go stiff, realizing what she meant and she watched like a predator as his hand reached to rub at the marks that were still healing. Watched him swallow and tug at the collar, saw how he wouldn't look at her and she laughed.

Dr. Parker ended the session early that day.

Harley was practically bouncing in her seat. Her grin was nearly splitting her face and she was back to spouting off random words. Talking about colors and all the things she wanted to do. She seemed happy and this confused and both terrified the doctor. She had been so...depressed lately, barely laughing or smiling, but instead growling and scowling. Stomping her foot like a child and throwing a fit. Much easier to anger and he was at the point that he was sure this would be the new normal for their sessions. Separation anxiety of a sort he had recorded. Like a child afraid to be away from their parent for to long, or a dog from their owner. Everyone speculated that she was nothing more than a pet to the Joker, so a few of his colleagues had gotten a good laugh out of the comparison - even he had laughed a bit, a tickle in his throat before clearing it.

No one expected much out of these sessions with the female clown, but it was mandatory and procedure and he was the only who didn't throw a fit or complain to much about the prospect of treating her. No one believed they should be afraid. She made them think twice.

"Harley?"

His voice was tentative and even when he cleared it he couldn't get the shake out of it. Could remember her fingers and nails pressing in and he had never been afraid of her until then. He didn't realize that he was trying not to upset her, but she could. She could see it. And she giggled while looking at him.

"Hmmm?"

It was the happiest she had ever sounded and he wonders if maybe, just maybe he shouldn't have asked. That he should have just let her be.

"Why so happy today?"

Her grin uncurls, slowly and she almost looks dazed. Dreamy as she sighs and rolls her head around a few times. "I'm going home!" She sounds like an excited little girl , giggling and bouncing in excitement at the news. So happy and joyous because she is getting what she wants.

Dr. Parker paled.

They all waited.

Waited to see if and when she would be 'going home', but it never came. But her happiness never faltered and each day she seemed to be more and more in a good mood. Joking and teasing with him and the rest of the staff, no out-bursts of violence and he was confused. Confused, but he allowed his worry to bleed away after two weeks and would start to smile at her. Would conduct their sessions and it almost all seemed routine. This session was much of the same. Smiles and a Happy Harley Quinn. Dr. Parker had decided to try some questions again and sat down, shuffling his papers and opening his mouth to speak, but like usual was cut off.

"I'm tired of this game. I want to play something else!"

Again she was so excited. The idea of something NEW seemed to fill her with an energy and she leaned closer, all her focus on the doctor and it was the first time in any of their sessions that she had ever given him her sole attention. "Game? Miss Quinn, this isn't a game." He felt the need to reprimand and remind her of the situation. To perhaps get her in a lucid moment and to take things more seriously. If even for a moment. Instead she pouted and shook her head before blowing out a huff of air.

"No, no. Come on, play with me!"

Back again was that eager child and he wasn't sure how to handle her like this. He was sure his refusal would irritate her, make her lash out or shut down - refuse to talk to him again, but not insist he play her games. She had never been interested in letting others play with her, of letting them in on her games. To play with her instead of being played with.

"I know just the game! Peek-a-boo!"

"Peek-a-boo?"

He was completely taken off guard, thrown for a loop as she nodded and bounced. This was a childs game, one parents played with their children - that he had played with his girls once upon a time to get them to stop crying.

"Miss Quinn, again, this isn't -"

"Peek-a-boo!"

"Please stop with -"

"Peek-a-boo!"

She just didn't seem to stop, continuing to interpret him and giggling each time she did. Bouncing and practically vibrating in her seat, working on hist frustrations. And gods...he should have known. Known that this is what she wanted, what she was getting at. Distract him. Twist him and manipulate him because he didn't even hear the door behind them open. Didn't notice the shift in her eyes, how they became almost...loving. The adoration in them. No. He was to busy being tired, fed up with thinking he was getting somewhere with her and then to just be played and twirled around in circles like a dog chasing his tail. He never use to be this easily angered, but he was practically grinding his teeth now as he leaned to-ward her, trying to be heard over her.

"MISS QUINN!"

She met him half way - cackling and they were practically nose to nose.

"Peek-a-boo."

This time her voice was much quieter, almost seductive and playful, drowned out though by the sound of harsh slapping and his own yelping. White fingers dug into his shoulders, pressing down and keeping him in his seat as the person behind him growled. It was both threatening and...much like her voice, playful. Briefly his eyes looked down to see those pale hands and gold rings and he knew. Everyone would know who those hands belonged to and her own excitement and purring was only further confirmation.

Dr. Parker felt the mans mouth against his ear and he found he couldn't move. Paralyzed and looking down, refusing or unable to look at either of them. But his mouth was just there, heavy breathes falling on his ear and he could feel the grin stretched over the Jokers red mouth, reflected in Harley's own smile.

"I see you."

It was like a hiss and Harley was practically melting at the sound. Pushing against her restraints and wiggling all over the place - laughing and soon it was the only sound.

Giggles soon joined with the Jokers own loud laughter and the sounds melted together, drowning out anything else.

Poor Dr. Parker. He should have remembered not to yell at her.

She was so glad this game was over.

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