It was cold when Arella awoke again with a gasp. Bright lights caused her to squeeze her eyes shut with a groan, taking a few minutes to adjust to the change before forcing her eyes open again, ignoring the headache that was rapidly starting to settle in. Moving her head slightly to the right to look around the room, she quickly realized that she was in the hospital's old infirmary again, lying on the same cold metal table that had greeted her when she'd first arrived. It smelled decidedly more coppery than she remembered. Then again, the last time she'd been in here it had only been three days since the Joker's. Now that they were going on five months, she couldn't help but wonder how many others had been brought here after unsuccessful campaigns. She couldn't imagine the Joker caring about treating his men's wounds. He'd just kill them if they were too hurt to function. If they had wounds like hers. Brown eyes widened as the memory of the event that landed her in her current predicament came rushing back, explaining the coppery smell that she had attributed to the room alone. Reaching over to touch her side, she stopped as she realized that she was attached to an IV bag by a thin, plastic tubing Disappearing into the back of her hand.

Her eyes rested on the needle in her hand for a moment, biting her lip as she inspected the tubing to make sure it was long enough before she reached over again gingerly and pressed the tender skin near her wound before pulling away with a hiss. The stitched up wound looked small from this angle, but it still hurt like hell. A dull pain that radiated slowly up her side.

Setting her lips into a frown, she let out a low sigh through her nose as her head dropped back onto the table; silent tears beginning to fall from her eyes. Try as she might, it wasn't clear what she had been thinking to walk into his room. Or if she had been thinking at all. It was, by far, the stupidest thing she had done since she'd arrived and though his reaction should have been expected, the sheer rage that radiated off of him was something that she hadn't seen in a long time. And never a level that she expected to see directed at her. It was suddenly becoming clear that what she had once described as rage induced outbursts before were simply his response to being annoyed. This was something new. Something that had never bubbled when she had attacked him, not when she insulted him, and not when she'd challenged him. All it had taken was for her to get a little too curious for her own good. It was a miracle that she was still alive. But it was clear that if she kept this up, her luck might run out.

Catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, she turned to her left to see the doctor sitting at his computer, typing. Staring quietly at his back for a long moment, she finally licked her lips, taking a deep, painful breath before speaking.

"How long was I out?"

The doctor visably flinched, his thin shoulder tightening for a second before relaxing as he took a moment to compose himself. Turning his head only barely to the side, he answered in a tone that radiated impatience

"Few hours." He said simply before turning back around to the computer.

Furrowing her brows together, she contemplated that idea in her head for a moment. Wondering if being knocked out for more than a few minutes was something that she should be concerned about. But it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last. So she quickly discarded the information, deciding that it didn't matter. Glancing down at the stitches again, she flicked her eyes back to the doctor. "Am I going to live?" she asked, partially sarcastically.

"You're alive now, aren't you?" He muttered, bored.

She only let out a soft grunt, pulling the thin blanket over herself and wishing she could force the cold bed to warm up so that she could relax. For the Joker to have such a flamboyant, dark sense of humor, his men didn't seem to understand a joke. No wonder he was always annoyed. To be fair, it'd probably be funnier if it wasn't a legitimate concern.

"Don't move or you'll rip your stitches." The doctor muttered, casting another bored glance over his shoulder.

'No shit.' She thought to herself with a roll of her eye, giving one more pointless shift just to spite him, trying hard to hide the groan of pain that she was rewarded with. "Where's Joker?"

"Why, want to get stabbed again?"

She scowled in reply, shutting her eyes as she tried to block out the pain. She considered begging for something to knock her out but there was usually no point in asking the Joker's men for anything. They were normally too scared or too annoyed to care. Instead she simply shifted in an attempt to get comfortable, wondering briefly how long she had alienated herself for this time before drifting off to sleep again.

When she awoke again, it was immediately clear that she had been moved. The bed she was lying in was much softer than the metal table that she had previously been lying on; and warmer as well. Opening her eyes slowly, she looked around the dim room confused, trying to figure out where she was, and whether she should be concerned with getting away from it.

Before she could make sense of it, the pain hit her again, causing her to whimper and squeeze her eyes shut again. The dull ache that she had previously been experiencing in the hospital had now grown into a sharp, shooting pain that almost made her feel like she had been stabbed again. Part of her wanted to roll over away from the pain but she knew it would only make things worse. Apparently the doc had been kind enough to give her some sort of painkillers when she was lying there, but whatever he had placed in the IV had definitely worn off by now and she was dying to have it back.

"First time's a killer, hmm? And just think, I had my first time when I was six."

Her eyes shot open at the sound of the nasally voice as it finally became clear where she had been relocated to. She was in his room. The room he had just stabbed her for sneaking into. Snapping head around to locate the source of the voice, she finally found him sitting on the edge of the bed, one ankle thrown casually over his knee and his arms crossed over his chest as he smirked over at her. His tongue darting out to wet his lips. He seemed calm, normal even. Or at least as normal as the Joker would ever get. And even after the tenuous egg shells she had been walking on for the past week, it was only her anger that she could process at the moment. Not the fear, and not the ever present nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her to shut up.

"You son of a bitch." She growled, her eyes narrowing at him as she tried her best to keep her sore body perfectly still underneath the blanket..

"Well, she wasn't the greatest." He snorted, holding his hands up in a shrug.

"You stabbed me." She blurted out, ignoring his annoying joke.

"Just a little." He giggled before setting his face into a serious expression again as quick as the grin had come, returning to the lecturing tone she hated. "Besides, we both know you deserved it."

"Deserved it?" She looked at him, her mouth dropping in disbelief. "A little overkill, don't you think?"

"No." He said simply, his mouth turning downwards into a deep frown as he sucked on the inside of his cheeks noisily.

She glare at him for another moment blowing a breath through her nose and letting her head fall back onto the pillows in defeat as her common sense finally began to return. They both knew that he had held back momentously in letting her live and that it was truthfully nothing to scoff at. As far as she was concerned, she did deserve it, and more. At least now much of the tension that had been hanging in the air between them had dissipated so that they were back to an insane version of normal. And all it took was a little stabbing. As much as it hurt now, she was also glad that it happened. This pain was much better than the uncertainty.

"You're right." She said finally. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" He gave a playful frown as he tilted his head to study her.

"Yea." She paused briefly to squeeze her eyes shut, blocking out the sharp stab of pain radiating up her side as she shifted slowly to find a more comfortable position. "It was stupid. It's just…I was lonely, and I was looking for you…but I shouldn't have come in here. I never should have come in."

"No you shouldn't have." He sang with a relaxed smile. "But I think it's safe to call us even now, don't you?"

She didn't even bother justifying that with an answer, briefly glancing around the room now that she wasn't impeded by the fear of getting caught before turning back to him. "Why did you bring me back in here?" She questioned softly I want to go back to my room."

"Sorry sweet cheeks. Since you've gone and gotten yourself stabbed. You get to stay here until your stiches heal…with yours truly." He grinned. "Don't want you popping one and dying on me."

Her eyes widened slightly as she thought about practically living with the psycho for the next few weeks. If she could barely contain her smart mouth in the hour or so that they saw each other each day now, then she had no hope that she would make it out of this alive. He had to know it was a bad idea. Was this his new way of punishing her? Not to mention the idea of having to sleep with him again.

"No." She blurted out before she could stop herself.

"No. No. No." He mocked her slowly with a click of the tongue and a dismissive wave, his nose scrunching judgementally. "Always so negative. You should smile more."

"How about I promise to be careful?" She tried bargaining. He surely didn't want her in here permanently. It was his area. His cage. And she was sure that too much time spent here would render her a chew toy.

He laughed. A cackle that threatened to bring on a headache. "Can't say that I trust you a whole lot right now."

She frowned, letting out a frustrated huff. "You'll just end up stabbing me again."

"Let's hope not for your sake." He hummed. "My aim might not be so good next time."

She groaned wanting badly to simply stand up and storm off to her room despite his insisting. But she was stuck here and he knew it. Glancing over towards the desk she had spent so much time near earlier, she realized that he had removed many of the documents that had covered the top only a few hours before. Most of the boxes of ammo had been taken out as well but her paintings had been left where they were, lined up between the windows, facing her so innocuously. Biting her lip, she hesitated before turning to stare at his back as he bent down to kick off his shoes. His face at a calm as his hair draped over his cheek.

"Why did you take them?" She asked finally, her voice shaking.

He glanced over his shoulder at her with a frown, following her eyes briefly over to the paintings before snapping them back to her with a deepening frown. Leave it to her to just not let things be. She should be happy enough that he hadn't destroyed them. It had always been the plan to use to use the threat of it to control her, but he had quickly decided that he wouldn't. And he wasn't one to threaten lightly. And for once, he couldn't think of a single work around answer. Not one that would make sense to either one of them at least. He had almost forgotten that they were hers. Giving an annoyed suck of the cheeks, he gave up trying to find an alternative answer.

"Because I liked them."

"Really?" She replied, her eyes widening only incrementally as she looked at him in disbelief. That hadn't been the answer she'd been expecting. She had always thought that her work was trite or kitschy. And had only completed most of them so that she could pass. But she liked them, and they boarded on the edge of darkness so she supposed that maybe it was why he liked them too. It was one of the few nice things he had ever said to her, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. If he wasn't lying to her.

He gave an exaggerated roll of the eye before finally standing, taking a moment to flex the muscles in his back until he heard a satisfying crack. Brushing his hair back he began to unbutton his shirt on the way to the bathroom.

Arella stare at his back again as he ignored her, trying to stop herself from asking the questions that she could feel nipping at the edge of her mind. He had just started talking to her again, and she was sure that attacking him with nonstop questions this soon would only make him angry. But it was the same question that had been on her mind nearly the entire time she'd been here, and this was as good a chance as any to ask. Who knew when the Joker would be in a good enough mood to talk to her again. She had spent the last month almost waiting.

"Why…why haven't you…forced me?" She blurted out before he could disappear behind the bathroom door.

He turned around slowly with a smirk, leaning against the wall and tilting his chin to his chest as he cross his arms. His eyebrows lifted innocently.

"Forced you to what?"

She pursed her lips angrily, hoping he would simply answer her instead of forcing the words out. But when he remained still, waiting patiently, she knew that he wouldn't.

"Why haven't you forced me to…to do anything with you?" She said shakily, casting him a sideways glance. "I've been here for nearly three months, and I've been attacked by your men twice now. But you haven't."

He scoffed, darting his tongue out to lick his bottom lip before answering. "I like to think that I'm so much more…evolved than my men. Besides, I don't have to force anyone. They come willingly, just like you. It's a little disturbing actually." He scrunched his nose with a chuckle.

"I wasn't willing to do anything." Her lips set into a determined frown.

"You're lying." He gave a lazy smile.

"I will never want you." She glared daggers at him, hoping that she could relay just how much she hated him with a single glance.

He didn't even flinch, the smile never leaving his face as he laughed. "You already do sweet cheeks. Whether you want to admit it or not. Do you want to know how I know?" he tilted his head.

She was silent, her eyes darting between his content expression and the door, unsure of whether she was comfortable looking at him at the moment. He might take that as a sign to continue and she wasn't sure that she wanted to bait him into something that she'd regret in a few minutes.

But he didn't need an invitation. He never did.

With a smirk, he walked back towards the bed with deliberate steps, all the way around to her side. All the way to the edge, his smirk growing at her panicking face as he leaned down to slowly climb onto the bed, almost gently.

"What the hell are you doing?" She blurted out finally, flinching away from him nervously even as he swung his leg around to straddle her, his knees pressing against her hips and his forearms resting near her face so that they were only inches apart. "Stop it." She ordered, pressing her hand to his chest.

He let out a deep chuckle, stopping as he hovered over her, being sure not to lean on her.

"Get. off of me." She said firmly. Her voice shaking with anger.

"I'm not even touching you. You're touching me." He grinned as his tongue darted out along his scars, enjoying tormenting her.

She rolled her eyes with an angry growl, annoyed with his games. Frowning, her hands finally dropped to her side in defeat. She was almost positive that he wouldn't do anything to her right now aside from try to annoy her. So instead of playing along, she simply decided to wait.

It seemed to be exactly what he was waiting for however, as he finally continued, his voice low.

"You know, you can toss and turn all night telling yourself that you're not crazy, that it's not true. But who are you really trying to convince? Hmm? Because I know what you're doing when you finally relax in bed." He continued with a smile as if he was recounting a happy memory. "And your breathing gets so…" He let out a growl. "Heavy…Just the way I like it. Just way it did in the shower."

Her mouth dropped as the last words left his lips, wanting badly to defend herself but only managing to squeak out a small, embarrassed whimper as he leaned closer to her ear. She knew that he would sometimes come into the room when she was sleeping. He had never made a secret of his, almost incessant, need to watch her. but she had no idea that he was also watching her when she was awake too. Or how.

"I know what you're thinking about when you do it." He hummed into her ear as if he were telling her a secret, before lifting his head looking down at her with a smirk, nodding to reinforce what he had just said as she stare at him in disbelief.

She suddenly felt a wash of shame flow over her, hating that he had invaded her privacy even more. Hating that he was using it now to make her feel so dirty. Now more than ever, it was taking everything in her to not force him off of her, stiches or not. But she knew that she didn't have the strength right now, so she settled for avoiding his gaze, turning her head to the said to stare at the nearby desk and try and forget that he was there, so close.

"Now, now." He grinned wildly, enjoying her reaction. How he'd missed there interactions over that past couple of weeks. Placing a hand on her chin, he forced her eyes back towards him. "Don't be upset. Trust me, you have nothing to be ashamed about. It made me...crazier than usual. And that's hard to do." He waged a finger at her with a playful grin before smiling as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Maybe if you ask nicely one day, I'll return the favor."

She finally wrenched her face away from his hand, turning to look around the room, at anything other than him. There wasn't a single part of her that wanted to discuss with him what sometimes went on behind closed doors when she thought she was alone. It wasn't any of his business no matter what she was thinking about.

For a long time, they remained in that position, her trying everything in her power to pretend as if he wasn't on top of her, and him taking immense pleasure from her uncomfortable fidgeting. He loved when she pretended to be so nervous around him.

"My side hurts." She finally said once it became clear that he had no desire to move. The silence was becoming deafening, and she was nervous that spending too much time in this position might give him further ideas. The least she could do was try to redirect his attention.

He gave a passing glance down to her side before giving a grin and climbing off of the bed much less gently than he'd climbed on.

A scream of pain erupted from her mouth as the bed shifted with his weight, her body instinctually curling up to cover her wounded side as he chuckled, moving away from the bed.

"Please." She called out to him as a last ditch effort. "Can I have something for the pain?" She cried, waiting for the pain to subside as she remained perfectly still.

"No." He gave a sadistic smile, heading back to the bathroom. "You need to get used to it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, opening her mouth to tell him how much of a psycho he really was but she quickly shut it with a whimper, deciding that getting stabbed twice in one night wasn't her idea of a good time. It was late anyway, and though she had spent a good amount of the last few hours passed out, she was still exhausted. Sighing, she closed her eyes, pulling the blanket up and trying to make herself comfortable.

It only took a minute for the pain to disappear, and when it finally did, she relaxed, shifting once more to make herself comfortable and trying to go back to sleep. An idle thought forced her eyes open once again, gazing towards the open bathroom door where she could hear the water running.

"You were stabbed when you were six?" she called with a yawn, surprised that the comment hadn't even resonated with her at first.

She heard him chuckle from the bathroom, peeking his head out of the doorway with a toothbrush in hand, grinning a mouthful of yellowed teeth. "What can I say? Mommy was a drinker." He shoved the toothbrush into his mouth, disappearing from view.

She looked at him oddly, shocked at his calm disposition about something that had seemed so traumatic as well as the fact that he actually brushed his teeth. She had seen the toothbrush in the bathroom earlier, but she assumed that he used it for shining his shoes or something else equally mundane. More interesting, however was the fact that he had actually told her something about himself. About his past. As minute as it may seem. She had never bothered to ask about his history. Not about the scars or what made him the way that he was. As far as she was concerned, none of it mattered now. He existed and no amount of understanding, no matter how deep it went would change that.

Even still, she felt a tinge of sympathy for whatever might have happened. The feeling didn't last more than a second, though, as the stinging pain reminded her of everything he had done since. Eventually, her curiosity led to a soft, humored snort as she tried to picture a six year old Joker. The closest she could get was a Child's Play doll painted in clown makeup.

Inside the bathroom, the Joker stopped brushing his teeth momentarily as he stare at his reflection in the mirror. Twisting his face into a confused scowl, he peered out of the door with furrowed brows, the toothbrush hanging limply from his mouth as if he had completely forgotten it was there. She was lying there in the bed, her eyes closed and…laughing. He wasn't sure if she even realized that it was happening. From what he could tell, she had all but drifted off to sleep again. But, even as soft as it was, she was indeed laughing. A low growl emitted from his throat as he stare at her, wondering if she was laughing at the idea of him getting stabbed. He had no problem with stabbing her again if she found it so funny.

As if she could feel him staring, her eyes shot open, taking a moment to focus on him. Her mouth turned upwards into a smile as she almost laughed again at the look of yellow, frothy toothpaste surrounding his mouth and lining the red makeup. But the look on his face caused her features to immediately flatten, returning her expression to blank.

"I wasn't laughing at you." She said quickly. It was only a partial lie. And even still, she was having a hard time keeping a straight face as he stood there so awkwardly with the toothbrush only reinforcing the image that kept popping in her head.

He only narrowed his eyes as her for a moment before slinking back into the bathroom out of sight.

As soon as he disappeared, her lips turned up into a smile again before she shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Oh Joker, I do love his character in almost any form. Do you guys have a favorite rendition? I'm on the fence between Dark Knight, cause duh, and the Arkham City/Arkham Asylum game version. I've never been a giant Harley Quinn fan, but I love their relationship in the game.

Thanks for sticking with me so long, you guys are awesome! And thanks to those that reviewed the last chapter. You're even MORE awesome! I do love reading them and getting feedback, good or bad. Well, not bad as much, but it helps with the growing process, right? At least that's what they say.

There's not a whole lot happening in this chapter, but I feel like the two of them don't talk a whole lot because they're both always stuck in their own heads. I like the interaction that way, but it's nice to break up the thought process every now and again. The next few chapters are gonna be full of fun, though, so don't worry, I'll get the next one up soon. :)

Also, Sorry it's been almost a month. I've previously been trying to keep up with a two week time frame, but I just started a full time job a couple of weeks ago, and as much as I love it, it's definitely cutting into my editing/writing time. (Side effects of being an adult I suppose) So a month between chapters might be the new norm. Don't hate me! ^.^