Chapter 2

Harley had been given the Joker's files to read up on that night at home. Not that there was a lot to read about. His previous doctors hadn't been able to do a full and proper analysis of him. Name: unknown. Approximate age: 26-30. Height: 6'2. Huh, quite tall then. Weight: 186 lbs. He was more or less a riddle to be solved. All the thoughts whirling around in her head kept her awake for a good while. But she finally managed to fall asleep sometime after midnight.

When she got up at seven in the morning, the first thing she did was hit the shower and put her clothes on. She chose a black skirt, not too long or too short, and a red buttoned up shirt to go with it. She settled for her mundane, black heels and her makeup consisted of just a little bit of mascara and eyeliner and some peach pink lip gloss. She put her blonde hair up in a high ponytail and put her glasses on as the finishing touch. She looked at herself in the mirror. Not too bad.

She arrived at the asylum at 8:30. Her session with the Joker was scheduled for ten o'clock. Plenty of time to prepare. Once she stepped inside her small office, she noticed her new doctor's coat resting on the back of her chair. She picked it up and looked at it before putting it on. It was a perfect fit. She picked up her new staff ID lying on her desk and attached it to the white coat on the left side of her chest. She smiled to herself. Now she was officially part of the staff. It was her first day and she really looked forward to it. She was eager to meet the other doctors. She was sure her job required to work alongside her colleagues now and then. The sooner she got to know them, the better.

"Ah, I see you've found your coat." Harley turned around and saw Dr. Arkham leaning against the door frame.

"Yes, it's a perfect fit too. I finally feel part of the staff," she answered with a smile.

"I'm glad to hear. Speaking of which, in case you're interested, perhaps you'd like to meet some of your colleagues? I could show you around the place a bit more meticulously. You know, make sure you feel at home."

"Yes, I'd like that very much."

So she followed Dr. Arkham through the white corridors and dropped by at different places and offices. He showed her the infirmary where she met a few nurses. And she got to meet some other doctors, like Thomas Elliot, Hugo Strange and Joan Leland. Harley instantly took a liking to her. And if she wasn't wrong, it felt as if Joan felt the same way about her. They also stopped by the cafeteria where most of the inmates had their meals. The patients that were held at maximum security got their meals in their cells. There was after all a reason for them being held at maximum security. The Joker was one of those inmates.

"Thank you for showing me around," Harley said when they got back to her office. She looked down at her watch. It was now 9:30. She had half an hour to prepare for her session. She hadn't really thought about it before, but perhaps she should have come up with some good questions last night to bring with her? The thought instantly made her feel nervous. Or maybe it was better not to be prepared? When it came to the Joker, you could never really be prepared for anything.

"You all right there, Dr. Quinzel?" Harley looked up and met Dr. Arkham's worried face.

"What? Oh, um, yes, I just… I was wondering if maybe I should have thought up some questions to ask him." Dr. Arkham seemed to know who she was talking about.

"I think you're better off without them. You should just go in there and see what happens. But just make sure that you're always the one in charge. You call all the shots. Okay?" She nodded.

"Okay."

"And, uh, there's one more thing," he added. "We have set up two security cameras in the examination room where you will be having your session. Since it's your first time with him, us more… experienced doctors are going to watch a livestream of it in the conference room. We want to see how he reacts. That all right with you?"

"Of course," was her immediate answer, but then she came to think of another precaution. "And if anything goes wrong, you'll send for the orderlies, right?"

"Precisely. You needn't worry, Dr. Quinzel. I trust you can do this." He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He trusts me. It was a comforting thought.

It was now 9:57. She stood outside the examination room. He was in there. She had her clipboard and pencil at the ready. There would be others watching. She was completely safe. Nothing could go wrong. Right? God, Harley, you're such a wimp! Just go in there already! She took one last calming breath and with a slightly unsteady hand, she lay her access card against the lock and the familiar click that indicated the door was open had her heart skip a beat. It was now or never. Moving her glasses back up her nose in place, she then pressed the heavy handle down and opened the door.

When she entered, she was met by him sitting across a small table. He wore the typical orange jumpsuit and his hands were cuffed. An empty seat was waiting for her opposite to him. He looked up from the table and stared at her. She thought his piercing gaze would burn a hole in her head, like a bullet. His greasy, green hair fell down across his face and his scars caught her attention. Without the makeup on, she could really see the depth of them. They curved into a wry smile. He was the first to speak.

"Hello… Dr. Quinzel." Harley raised her gaze from the scars to his eyes again. His words caught her off guard and she needed a minute to process what he had just said. He just said my name. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to reply.

"How do you know my name?" she quickly got out of herself.

"You have a name tag," he said and licked his lips, then pointed to the ID resting on her chest. She looked down and let out a nervous chuckle.

"Oh… yes, that's right. I forgot I had it."

She cleared her throat and straightened her posture and smoothed out the folds on her shirt. Then she started to move in her heels towards the empty chair. His piercing gaze followed her every move. Just like an animal watching its prey. But she was not to let herself be a prey. "Yes, I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel and I am going to be your new therapist." She sat down and rested her arms on the table, leaning in ever so slightly towards him to make him understand that she meant business. "From what I've learned, you've had quite a few," she added seriously, trying her best to return a piercing gaze through her spectacles.

To her relief, he leaned back in his chair instead of mimicking her move. "Correct," he answered, popping the t at the end. Harley continued to play calm.

"You should know that they were thinking about giving up on you. Dr. Arkham said that you refused to speak to the other doctors."

"Uh-huh."

"But you're not refusing to speak to me." She was surprised by how steady she was able to keep her voice. Then an idea came to her mind. "Now why is that, Mr…?" she asked politely and at the same time trying to get a name out of him. She had feared that he wouldn't answer, but to her surprise, he did. However, her hopes of getting a real name were quickly drained down the pipe.

"J." One letter. That was all. "You can call me Mr. J." Well, at least it's something.

"All right… Mr. J. You didn't answer my question." He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Questions, questions, questions…" he mumbled, leaning back in his chair and drawing circles with his right index finger on the table. "How about we play a game instead?"

This can't be good, she thought. Any game of the Joker's was sure to only end with him being the winner. Still, she allowed herself to give in.

"What game did you have in mind?" she asked. He was instantly revived from his train of thought, overjoyed by the fact that she agreed to play. She regretted having asked, because now he leaned forward instead, mirroring her pose by resting his arms on the table as well.

"Oh, it's simple really. Just hand me some white and black grease paint and perhaps some red lipstick if you got any and we can start." He flashed a wide yellow-toothed grin at her. She didn't return the gesture. Oh, he was playing with her all right. Obviously, he wasn't going to open up to her until he got what he wanted. But the call wasn't really hers to make. She would have to speak with Dr. Arkham about it first.

"I'll see what I can do," she said. "Until then, I think we should just take a break." This time, she did smile and without another word she got up from her chair and walked over to the door. But he wasn't quite finished yet.

"Forgive me, doc, but, um…" With her hand on the handle, she flipped her head back around, waiting for him to go on. "You don't really, uh… look… like a doctor."

That's exactly what everyone else had been telling her too. She was well aware she didn't look the part, but that didn't mean she couldn't play it. She was tired of people doubting her. She recovered from his statement and gained the control once more. "I would ask you to address me as Dr. Quinzel, please. I will see what I can do about your request." She opened the door, but didn't put one foot outside of the room before he spoke up again.

"Aww, leaving so soon?" The Joker gave her a fake pout and without being able to hide it, she smiled one last time.

"Good day, Mr. J," was all she said before the door shut closed behind her. She could see no guard in sight, but she figured they'd come for him soon enough. She decided to head for the conference room.

The closer she got, she could hear voices from within the room. One, she instantly recognized as Dr. Arkham's. Then she heard him say her name. She slowed down her steps and came to a complete stop just outside the room. The door was open by just a crack. She heard another man speaking and she instantly figured it was Dr. Strange due to the accent. "But look at her! She's a porcelain doll!" Ouch. That hurt. How many of the other doctors think the same about me? "Do you really expect her to make any progress with him? You saw what happened. Even he does not take her seriously!"

"With all due respect, doctor," Dr. Arkham retorted, "I don't think he takes anything seriously. And correct me if I'm wrong here, but, I don't recall you ever getting this far with him." There was a short pause and Harley imagined the grim face on Dr. Strange. "And who knows," Dr. Arkham continued, "perhaps he likes porcelain dolls?" he suggested, somewhat ironically.

"Yes," Dr. Strange said. "He likes to break their necks!" She heard them move and so she quickly skipped a few steps back down the corridor and then walked back towards the conference room, pretending as if she hadn't heard. She looked up to meet Dr. Strange storming out of the room, but he passed her without a sideways glance. She let out a breath and then entered the room where Dr. Arkham was the only one left.

"Dr. Arkham?" His head whipped around at the sound of her voice.

"Ah, Dr. Quinzel. We were just watching your session."

"How did I do?" she asked before she could stop her curiosity. He shrugged.

"Could have been better. Could have been worse. How do you think you did?" She also shrugged.

"I think I did all right. But yes, it could have been better." She looked down, somewhat unsure of herself. It could have been way better.

"I'm just glad you remembered my advice," Dr. Arkham said to cheer her up. "You're the one in charge. You made the right decision to end the session right then and there. I think each session with him should stay relatively short and only twice a week. That's enough for anyone to handle."

After having persuaded Dr. Arkham to get the face paint, (he wanted her to continue the sessions and so he didn't really have much of a choice) she proceeded the day by getting to know the place a bit more.

When she got home to her apartment, she could let out a sigh of relief and she leaned back against the door for support. "Rough day, Harl," she said to herself. "But you did good." She patted her own shoulder before pushing away from the door and stepping out of her heels, not minding to put them neatly together. She was exhausted, yes, but she needed to clear her mind and so, she found herself changing into a pair of black training tights and a grey, slightly oversized sweatshirt. She left her hair in its ponytail and then put on her trainers, heading back out to go for a run.

She thought about the times she used to go for a run three to four times a week while she was still training gymnastics. She had been really good at it and she still went to the local stadium at times as to not let her body forget everything. She quit training a couple of years after having started her studies at Gotham University. Gymnastics became a distraction and to get high grades was her top priority. Plus, it just wasn't that fun anymore. Of course, her father had been disappointed. He would have wanted to see her compete on a professional level in the future. But Harley knew that she lacked the passion to become a professional athlete. Her true interest lay with the criminal mind. That's why she had applied to Arkham and although her first day there should have scared her out of her wits and made her resign and never return, that was not the case. In fact, she could not wait to see the Joker again.

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed! It makes me so happy to know that you liked the first chapter, so hopefully you'll like this one too. And if you have any kind of constructive criticism, I'm happy to hear that as well, because English is not my native language, so if I make any errors or if my language isn't varied enough, then please let me know! My goal with this is to give you the best reading experience possible and also to improve my skills as a writer. Don't know when the next chapter will be up, but hopefully at least before the week is over. :)