Chapter 3: A New Doctor Indeed

A/N: hello readers! I am so sorry for the few updates: I've been extraordinarily busy with my first year of college, but I will try and update as much as I can this summer! I am updating as I am writing so your comments definably affect me! Thank you to those reading and reviewing: It REALLY means a lot to me. ;)

With that said: I forgot to do the disclaimers. So-disclaimer! I own nothing. Enjoy!

The body count rose to 6 before they final gave into The Joker's demands.

They never, in the history of the asylum's antiquity, gave into a patient's demands more than they did for the infamous super-criminal. At first they simply ignored his threat, locking him in his cell with no doctor at all. However he reverted to slaying guardsmen and nurses-and yes, sadly, the occasional doctor that got too close. They had to get him a new uniform because the old one was dyed red with blood. His tirade was agonizing, terrifying, and above all a royal pain in Dr. Leland's ass.

Now, the doctor sat in her chair massaging the bridge of her nose as she looked down at The Joker's file, soon to be 's patient file. She knew that he was up to something. She could see his jokes coming from miles away. Of course she never knew the joke until it hit her, but she could anticipate the horrid punch line as it brewed in his mind. She didn't want the girl to end up as just a one-liner. She could admit to herself that she like the girl: friendly, upbeat, and rather fierce. It had been some time before someone had spoken up and back at her. Being the head doctor at a mental institution is a rather grave job to have: and no one wants to mess with the woman in charge of the loony-bin.

The knock on the door awoke from her rather somber state.

"Come in" She said as she closed the manila folder and placed it on her lap.

Enter Quinnzel: in yet another school girl-ish outfit. couldn't exactly blame her, she was still technically a school girl, with just two months to go before her graduation from college. However the black pencil skirt rose a bit too high, and the lab coat was just a bit too short: not that the girl didn't cut the figure for such clothing's.- Besides the point, these were things to be addressed later.

"I was told you wanted to see me?" Harleen had said as she entered the room. The room itself was quite large being the head doctor's office- but rather vanilla in Harleen's eyes. The cream colored walls sported no personal pictures, save the one frame on her desk that was out of her view. In the corner was a Freudian couch, and to the left were two small counseling chairs. motioned for her to sit, and so she did in the chair closest to the door.

"Have I done something wrong, Joan?" Harleen asked in a factual tone. She couldn't allow her boss to know that she was terrified of being let go. She had only been at Arkham for a week: working downstairs filing away doctors notes. They had placed her as far away from the actual patients as possible, she thought- mostly on purpose. Nay, definitely on purpose.

"Oh no, Harleen. I haven't called you in here for anything like that. However, something has come up- do you remember your stint with The Joker last week?"

"How could I forget." Harleen said in a straight-man voice.

"Well it seems that he has requested you as his doctor. At first we had denied him that, being that we don't cater to criminals-however he had made some rather- blatant statements that he wants you to-treat him….or no one at all." stated as she picked up the folder and gentled glided it across the table to Harleen's awaiting gaze.

The file had contained pictures of his victims, all with an etched out "Dr. HQ" into their skin. There was a particularly gruesome one of a nurse, who had her cheek completely gouged out. Harleen bit her lip, hard: but not hard enough to bleed. 'Control yourself' Harleen had said in her mind, trying to suppress what she thought about these photos. The blood on the floor, glistening in the florescent lights, the cheeks scabbed around the beginnings of the cuts: and the letters etched into the skin… It was a personal calling card, and it was calling for her. 'Control what you feel', she whispered under her breathe.

"Very interesting" Harleen said as she closed the file: it was partially the truth, at least.

"I know you must be concerned about this… Dr. Arkham and I have discussed many different actions we could take on the matter: but we can't think of anything else than giving you guarded sessions with him"

"No, guards would only set him off. He wants me alone, Doctor. And if it'll get him to stop killing people, we'll just have to give it to him". Harleen had said, trying to hide her giddiness.

She couldn't stop thinking about him, ever since last week. The bruise had long healed, but she remembered exactly where they were on her skin…. Beautiful in their different tints- NO! She told herself, she can't be thinking like that…. Not anymore.

"When would you like to start-?" Dr. Leland said, standing and opening the door, indicating that their discussion was about to come to an end.

"How about now?" Harleen had said, as she mirrored Dr. Leland's actions. "If we give him a day to process that we're granting his wish, he'll have time to think of jokes or escapes. Catch him off guard, that way we can figure out the punchline before he even tells the joke".

*…*…*

"Up, clown". The guard said as he slid open The Joker's Cell.

The Joker looked up from the floor, smiling at the larger man in front of him.

"Where are your manners. Shouldn't there be a please somewhere in that sentence?"

"You're going to be late for your session." The guard stated as he cuffed The Joker.

"Hope you brought the body bags then!" He laughed as he was courted down the corridor. The Joker walked huffily down, anticipating how he was going to off the new Doctor. Maybe bash their head in like he did to the bird brat a few years ago, or maybe show the man a few magic tricks: he knew a good one involving a pencil…

He brewed his thoughts in his head all the way in the elevator ride up. Being on Sub Level 6, you had to take an elevator everywhere: to the rec room, the cafeteria, therapy, and physical therapy. So on and so forth. Stopping on Level 3, The Joker was lead to the last room on the right.

He knew this room well: Small, intimate, but completely wired with camera's. Normally used as a room for introductions to the asylum, new patient babble.

'This ought to be fun' He thought as he was pulled into the room.

One he was seated (rather roughly, if you were to ask him), he was chained with his hands and feet attached to one large chain on the floor.

The door opened a few minutes later, with a clack.

The Joker did not look up, planning on ignoring the doctor til he finally thought of a clever enough way to end the miserable quack's life.

The guard had left the clown's side, to give the figure a panic button and the rundown of "I'll be just outside". The figure didn't say anything, and only nodded as the guard closed the door behind him.

After a second of just standing there, the new doctor finally took a seat across from The Joker, who still stared at his cuffed hands.

The Joker waited for the new Doctor to say something, but the doctor never did. Instead, the two sat in silence: wading in it like a pool. Neither making the first move…or maybe, the silence was the first move. The Joker grinned as he finally opened his mouth to say something, however the figure beat him to the punch; getting the first words out.

"Wanna see a card trick." The voice said. The Voice said this as a statement, rather than a question. They weren't asking permission, they were telling them this as fact. They were taking control. The voice was confident, and bit sultry; laced with hints of a city accent.

The Joker looked up and locked eyes with the figure.

"Well, well…. If it isn't Harley Quinn."