Author's Note: SOOOOOOO sorry I haven't updated. :-/ Life tends to get in the way. Here's a little more action too...I'm picking up the pace, I promise! And as always - please R&R!

It was a beautiful day outside, but when she pulled up the long drive to Arkham Asylum, Samantha felt nothing but gloom. Another day with the Joker, she thought miserably. She walked in the building and was greeted by a couple of psychiatrists and secretaries as she made her way to her office.

The office was locked and Samantha went to pull out her key. She opened the doors and a familiar couch and chair greeted her. I guess he was sympathetic, Samantha thought while touching the broken-in leather. She didn't go any further and sat on the couch. Suddenly, warmth and a brief feeling of happiness overwhelmed her. It seemed like an hour had gone by when Samantha pulled herself back to reality. She walked to her desk and sat down; a familiar folder sat directly on top and she flipped it open to reveal a familiar disfigured face. Few notes were written in the file and Samantha realized that she hadn't been properly documenting her sessions. It had only been a couple, but nothing significant had risen out of them; just talks about anarchy and chaos. Both ideas were simple, Samantha knew that they went hand in hand and without them, people could live in peace. Samantha was writing notes and thoughts when the face of a guard appeared in the doorway.

"Miss?" He said timidly.

"Yes, can I help you?" Samantha was confused. He was scared about something and wasn't sure if she really wanted to know what was going on.

"Yeah, you need to come with me. It looks like the Joker's gone and hanged himself," he responded grimly. Samantha, in pure disbelief, sat there. She swallowed hard and rose out of her chair. She followed the guard and he led her down the corridor to the Joker's cell. Scared of what she would find, she was afraid to look in the room.

The Joker was lying on the bed with a noose around his neck, someone had cut it down; the torn bed sheets answered Samantha's question of how he created the noose.

"Miss, do you want to have a few minutes before the Commissioner arrives?" The guard asked.

"Please, I would appreciate it," Samantha replied automatically; her mind was racing, what would she do in those minutes? The guards stood outside and closed the cell behind her, giving her complete control of the room. She cautiously walked over to the bed and sat on her knees, searching for any signs that would give a clue to his last thoughts before his brain died. Something was wrong, Samantha could feel it; she studied the Joker's body and was trying to figure out what was wrong. Then she it hit her; irritated and scared out of her mind she stood up.

"Get up," she barked, hate rising in her voice. Nothing, the Joker continued to lay there. She could have sworn she heard a breath; a guard looked in at her oddly. The anger was rising in Samantha's throat. She looked out the bars at one of the guards.

"Gentlemen, why don't you go get a cup of coffee? I'm sure I'll be fine," she said gently. The guards looked at each other and left rather quickly. Samantha walked back over to the bed. She looked down at the Joker and softened her facial muscles. She sat back on her knees and stared hard at his face.

"You know," she started to speak, her voice intentionally soft; "I always thought you were kinda handsome, in a dangerous sort of way." That should wake him, she thought. After a few moments, nothing, not even so much as an eyebrow raise. Frustrated, Samantha did the only thing she could do.

"Get the hell up!" she screamed as she slapped him across the face. "You take me for an idiot? I'm not letting you play your games with me anymore. You wake up this very instant!" The Joker stirred, a wide grin graced his face and she opened his eyes.

"Well, beautiful, I didn't know you had it in ya," he said while sitting up.

"Did you think they would take you out in a body bag, and then you'd have a change to escape?" Anger still filled her voice. The Joker was still grinning as he undid the noose around his neck. He rose out of bed and Samantha realized she had asked the guards to leave. The doors locked on themselves so she was stuck until they came back. He saw the fear in her eyes and started to giggle.

"Do you like scarves and turtlenecks, doc?" he asked.

"Not really," Samantha started to back up against the door. She moved to the side so he couldn't tie her to the bars. The Joker was in front of her holding out his homemade noose. Samantha didn't have anywhere to move and he grabbed her by the neck.

"Well, then you're going to learn to love them," he said maliciously. Samantha was trying to gasp for air, and the Joker wasn't letting up. He touched her cheek gently, being surprisingly gentle about it.

"You know, I did hear what you said, about liking me because I'm dangerous," he said, giggling a little. "Was it true?"

"Sure, if you want it to be," she managed to gasp. He put the noose around her neck and fear was rising in Samantha's chest. Just before he could drag her over to where the noose was hanging originally, the guards were rushing in.

"You creep!" one of them screamed.

"Back off," said another. One guard had a tazer gun and shot it at the Joker. He immediately dropped Samantha and was convulsing from the electricity running through his body. She got up and ran out the door.

"We've got it under control," the guard with the gun said.

"You need to stop, you can seriously hurt him," Samantha said, taking in all the air she could.

"What do you care for? He tried to kill' ya."

"He's still my patient, stop now!" Not being about to take anymore, Samantha ran from the hall. She rushed back to her office, closed the door behind her and threw herself on the couch. Panic was rising in her chest; she knew she shouldn't have gone in his room. She set herself up and almost died. The panic attacks were coming more frequent since she started back here, she thought. She got up and walked slowly to her desk, opened up the drawer and took out a prescription bottle. After taking two Xanax, she sat back on the couch and waited for the medicine to kick in.

"Samantha? Are you ok?" Bruce Wayne's voice penetrated into Samantha's thoughts. She sat up and realized how disheveled she looked. Looking wildly around, Dr. Harrington and Bruce were staring at her, unsure of what to say.

"I'm as fine as anyone could be after being strangled," she replied, smoothing out her hair. Why is Bruce somehow always here?

"Why don't you take the afternoon off? Obviously you're not going to have your session with the Joker today and possibly not tomorrow as well," Dr. Harrington said. Samantha nodded and stared blankly.

"You're not taking me off his case, are you?" she asked, worried she would be without a job.

"No, of course not. You're one of very best, there's no need to take you off yet unless you tell me too," Dr. Harrington said gently. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to speak with Commissioner Gordon about today's little…incident." He abruptly left the room, leaving Samantha and Bruce alone. Bruce moved over to the couch beside her and put a comforting arm around her. Immediately she burst into tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked sincerely. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks and answered.

"I don't know how much more I can take," she let it all out, after bottling her feelings in for so long. Bruce had no words; all he did was rub her shoulder and let her cry.

"I'm so sorry; you must think I'm an idiot. But I am curious, how do you always seem to show up when I really need someone?"

"I just have that talent," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "I just know when someone needs help."

"Just like Batman?" she replied, remembering her first conversation with him. It made sense, she thought. More and more she was interested in unmasking the vigilante and she assumed only because the Joker was obsessed. The expression on Bruce's face changed, his eye darkened and there was an odd look about him.

"Just like Batman," he said, rubbing her shoulder and smiling gently. The silence was calming. Samantha just stayed consumed in her thoughts and was becoming increasingly aware that Bruce was constantly touchy-feely. Samantha cleared her throat and stood up.

"Bruce…I think you should go, "she was wiping her eyes and straightening her posture.

"What's wrong? Did I say something wrong?"

"No. It's going to sound completely cliché, but it's really not you. It's me."

"Huh?"

"I can sense you have some kind of feeling for me. I just can't…" she let her voice trail off. Bruce saw the look in her eyes and got the hint. He stood up, straightening his jacket at the same time.

"I understand," Bruce said, in a more formal tone, he was clearly hurt. "Well if you change your mind…" He gave her one last look and left. Samantha gave up. She packed a briefcase and stopped by Dr. Harrington's office.

"Hmm?" Dr. Harrington's voice was muffled by the door.

"I'm just letting you know I'm taking the next two days off. Just deduct them from my payroll if you must," Samantha said, not even fully opening the door.

"Okay…" he said, clearly confused, "get some rest, Samantha."

Samantha closed the door quickly and practically ran from Arkham Asylum.