A/N: The phrase "blinking-blue-blazes" is a phrase Joker uses in Batman: The Animated Series when he can't find his socks. :P

Bouncing on the balls of her feet was nearly impossible to resist.

She had the idea to let out the excited squeal that was still stuck in her chest when she entered the elevator, but couldn't when she saw that a guard and doctor were already in the elevator. They gave courteous smiles and nodding acknowledgements at her as she entered the lift. The (2) button was already lit up and they all exited out of the cool steel elevator doors when it reached the second floor. Harleen noticed that the doctor had a badge that shut off the glowing blue electrical currents to one of the secure passage ways to the right of the elevator.

She wondered if she was supposed to have a badge that could shut the off too. She examined her own badge as she made her way down the large corridor. Her name and title were on the front along with the Arkham Asylum logo and certification stamp. The back side had a magnetic strip, so it was used for something, surely. She decided to test it on a lock when no one was around, just in case.

She still couldn't grasp how magnificent and old Arkham Asylum was. Where there wasn't beautiful carpets, there was hard wood paneling or large grates that looked like a person could fit in them. Probably for electrical engineers or maintenance workers.

Her office door was down the last hallway on the left that led off the main corridor; it shared it's hallway with a boiler room, janitor's closet and another doctor. If not for her name tag on the door, it would have looked like any other service room.

The door was a simple brown rectangle, nothing so grand as the magnificent doors Warden Sharp had. Next to the door was the brass name placard with bold black letters announcing her title: Dr. Harleen Quinzel. She slid her fingers over it, her skin detecting the smallest raise of the letters against the brushed brass. It seemed so real, so official. This was her office. She was a doctor... next to the boiler. Turning the brass knob with anticipation, she swung it open fast, excited to see her new... office.

Her face fell a little. It was a closet compared to the penthouse suite the Warden had. Her office was smallish, about the size of her apartment's bedroom. There were no paintings of unknown persons, no rich colored carpets or earth-toned wall paper. The room before her was her was a white-walled cube. The stiff dark blue carpeting reminded her of hotel floors. There in the center of the office was a plain brown desk, two simple chairs in front of it, an office chair behind the desk. The only other object in the room besides herself was a cardboard box with a removable lid on it.

This room had clearly been spruced up on a low budget. Fresh white paint. The was carpet recently cleaned, the smell of chemicals with a touch of floral fragrance barely lingered. She huffed down in her new office chair. It squeaked. This isn't what she had expected. Do all doctors start off with a plain office? Like the proverbial blank canvas... She felt let down but couldn't put into words why.

Her eyes now brimming with tears that were now obscuring her vision. She had gotten her hopes up after seeing Warden Sharp's office, had imagined an office for her that would make her feel respected and admired by the staff. It was a daydream, but she had clung to it. The prestige and power of being a doctor is what drew her to the field and so far, it seemed to be one let down after another.

The chair squeaked again as she turned it toward the desk that had the box containing her patient's files. Just as the Warden had said, someone had put the records in the center of her simple desk. That was fast. She stood up and looked at it. It was the size of a mini fridge. Written on the side in thick black permanent marker was PATIENT FILES: JOKER.

So someone had let themselves into her office and left again. If she wanted the respect she deserved, she had to start setting boundaries.

She closed her office door with a finality for no one to witness. Turning the lock into place felt good. She wasn't sure why, but it felt necessary, ensuring she wouldn't be interrupted. Even if someone knocked, she would have to let them in. They couldn't come and go as they pleased..

She picked up her briefcase where she had dropped it on the floor. She hadn't even realized that she had let go of it. Harleen tossed it on the chair, not caring of the metallic and glass clacking sound she heard when doing so. She pulled the lid off the patient file box and immediately understood why she was given a month to study the Joker.

Wow. She started to take everything out. Inside the box were several overstuffed manilla files, a few notebooks which looked to be filled page to page of doctors notes and scribblings. There were 3 hand-held recorders in the box, too. Guess she'd have to listen to the audio as well. Once she had everything on her desk, most of the wood coloring couldn't be seen. She had a month to look through all of this and not take it home?!

Well, he didn't say I couldn't take it home. He said to leave work at work and enjoy my time off. But to enjoy my time off, I'll need to get caught up, right? Why stress out at home about getting this all completed?

She smiled as she put the voice recorders in he briefcase. She can listen to them at home- just the recorders, right?

She sat down and began to organize the files as best she could. All manilla folders in one pile, notebooks over here, loose papers on top of folders.. Ok, that was everything. She spent the next hour or so going through the notes the last doctor Joker had on his case.

That's strange. Dr. Greg Vanshund's notes started out as writing down the given answers to the questions he had asked Joker. Then they change to how the Joker makes him feel. Then they just stop. Who would want to leave a case like this?

She continued on, not seeing a clear diagnosis from him. His notes were short and weren't really focused on Joker, must not have had a clue what he was doing then. She moved on to another folder, a much larger folder. This one seemed to have a color-coded system. Certain notes had a pink sticky tab, others had blue, yellow or orange. Dr. Wilma Berns. She listed Joker as obsessive compulsive and schizophrenic. Also that Joker could be cured by breaking down his obsession over clowns and jokes and rebuilding on his moral center. That's ridiculous, there's far more to Joker than that! She didn't bother reading more, just began to flip the pages faster, thinking that this doctor didn't have a clue what she was doing either. The last note page in Dr. Bern's folder was clearly not her handwriting. It was written in crayon... purple crayon. And the letters seemed to be all over the place:

Hello Folks!

Dr. Berns is out for the day, but Dr. JoKer will be filing in... FILLING in, I mean, filling in. ... Filing is what Dr. Berns was so good at. Organizing, coordinating, making everything perfect and systemaTic. Nothing out of plAce,

Now I don't know about you, kiddies but is that any way to live? Of course not! You should see her office here, so many drawers and filing cabinets,

i bet her Mind worked like that too. One biG filing cabiNet. Well, Dr. Joker hAs made her wish coMe true.

I filed her heaD in one of the cabinets here. Ha HA HA ha HA hA! -J

She was gripping the paper, shocked. He killed her and filed her head in a cabinet? She didn't think he seemed as psychotic as everyone said he was, but here it was, PROOF that this man was deranged. And she knew from the news that he found everything to be a joke. Hmmm, an organized doctor who clearly had a compulsion disorder herself... had labeled him as obsessive compulsive. So he filed her own head in one of her cabinets.

... As horrifying as it was... she saw the joke in it.

Wait! That's terrible, how could she even think that?!

...

But then, this was her job to understand the Joker and how his mind works. She has to see the world the way he does if she is to find a way to help him, right?...Right?

*KNOCK-KNOCK*

For a split-second moment Harleen felt as though she had been caught. Odd feeling to have. She crossed the room and unlocked the door. Dr. Leland entered without invitation. Harleen stepped back as Dr. Leland brushed past her. "Do you always lock your office doors while you are in?" Dr. Leland asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Sorry?" Harleen said, not comprehending the question at first. She was annoyed that the good Dr. Leland just invited herself in.

"You locked your door," she repeated. Her look told Harleen that this wasn't normal practice here.

"Oh. Oh! Yes, it's just a habit of immediately locking my apartment door behind me, you see." She smiled at Dr. Leland and stepped back around to her desk. Harleen had ever intention of continuing to lock her office door.

"AH, I see. Makes sense, of course. Good habit to have. ...I was just coming to make sure you had received your patients files. And I see you've already begun," she said, looking at the desk.

"Yeah, I just started to read the last 2 doctors notes... very, uhh... insightful." Harleen put the paper back in the folder.

Dr. Leland looked at Harleen with concern in her eyes. "Harleen, Joker's case can become very stressful. If you need any help, have any questions, or even need someone to vent to, please don't hesitate to ask... I never worked on his case directly, but I am very familiar with it."

Harleen had an idea, then. "Thank you, I appreciate that. Actually, I do have a question," Harleen came around her desk and sat on the edge, hands lightly gripping the edge.

"Yes?"

"Warden Sharp said that direct contact with Joker, until I am familiar with his case, isn't allowed but I am able to observe his interaction between other patients in the common room, yes?"

Dr. Leland looked confused now. "That is correct but Joker hasn't been allowed in the common room for some time."

"Has he had a violent episode in the last 30 days?"

"Well, no, he hasn't. I suppose no one thought to trust him."

Harleen stood up and smoothed out her skirt. She looked back up at Joan with a seriousness that she hoped came off as professional. "How can Joker think any of us care about treating him if we don't follow procedure with him?"

Dr. Leland looked at Harleen as if she were a naive teenage girl protesting about world peace. "Harleen, I understand your enthusiasm to help patients, I had that drive in the beginning to. But are you sure you want to already allow him common room access? I don't recommend it, but as his doctor, it is your call."

Harleen acted like she was thinking it over, but she had already made her mind up the moment the Warden had mentioned it. "Yes, I am sure. I would like to observe him in between studying to become familiar with his case."

Dr. Leland closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. Clearly she was trying to maintain a calm. "Before you fill out the documentation, please reconsider it. Asa doctor that has worked here for many years, I urge you to wait a bit before you decide to do this. The idea of him others is extremely unsettling.. He is more dangerous than you can understand right now."

She was pleading. But it was obvious to Harleen that the decision was hers to make and not Dr. Leland's. The power to make this call tasted good.

"Seeing how he interacts for a brief hour in the common room is all I want, Joan."

If any there was any hope Dr. Leland had that Harleen would reconsider, it deflated as she let out a sigh of defeat.

Very well. I will let Officer Cash know and have Joker scheduled for common room access tomorrow."

"Thank you so much, Joan," Harleen grabbed both Joan's hands in her own while looking at her, reassurance desperate in her face, "I know I can help him."

"...I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts..."

Joker was singing to himself, bouncing his yellow sock-covered feet to the beat of the tune, making his cot squeak. He had just finished his breakfast that was pushed through the slot on the wall, which resulted in it spilling all over the tray. I may be crazy, but at least I'M not rude! Oh wait-yes, I am. He he ha he ha! He wondered how long it would take him to meet this doctor without a pesky safety glass to protect her...

"Joker!"

He looked over to see Aaron Cash standing outside his cell, loathing as always.

"Cash! How ya been homes? You here to tell me I have that crisp little doc all to myself?" Joker asked, knowing Cash hated when he used slang to refer to him.

"No. I'm here to take you to the common room. Get up!"

Well, apparently not long at all. I didn't expect this so soon.

Either his PhD was an imbecile, or she's too eager to start. Or both, which he could use to his advantage.

"To the common room? Really?" Joker jumped up and stretched, "Now this is really UNexpected. Now I get to be the socio-butterfly I was born to be. Hey, Cash, you don't know what happened on the soap opera last week, do you? I'd hate to be so-five-minutes-ago! HA HA HA HA ha ha!" Joker let out a cackle of laughter as Cash swiped his badge, the code unlocking his glass cell door. Joker saw that another guard was just behind Cash, aiming his rifle at Joker. Joker held up his hands in false alarm. "Don't shoot me officer! GAH HA HA HA Haa haaaa!"

Cash moved in, cuffing Joker's hands in front of him and placed ankle shackles around his feet before shoving him out of the cell again.

"Now, now, Cash, no need to be so pushy. One would think you're overcompensating. Not coming up short in the trouser department are you? HA HA HA HA!"

Joker walked out, Cash standing behind him as the other guard walked beside Joker, both men's weapons trained on him. Cash's resentment was palpable. "Yeah, talk all you want, Joker. We'll see who's laughing soon."

Joker's voice went lower and he turned his head so he could see Cash walking behind him out of the corner of his eye, "Indeed, we will Cash, indeed we will."

Harleen was outside the common room earlier than she needed to be that day. She had arrived at work early, caffeinated up, and was listening to a guard give her instructions 'in case of an event'.

"... in which case, get behind a guard or lock yourself in the station with the others. If the electricity goes out for any reason, we must immediately manually lock the doors to the common room, keeping all inmates inside, or the doors could be pushed open, and they would get loose."

"Wait," Harleen's brow furrowed at the thought of such a thing happening. "Wouldn't all inmates be a threat to each other?"

"Yeah, but it would be better to keep them separated from staff rather than have them running free around Arkham. It would be chaotic and highly dangerous."

"I suppose I can see your point." She turned back to glass window she was looking through. Attached, but outside of it, the guard station was connected to the common room by sharing a glass window. The common room was basically the shape of an oval in layout. Half of the walls had windows looking to the outside Botanical Gardens of Arkham, the other half had windows looking into a hallway that others could look in from. The guard station was at the end of that hallway. It ensured that some sunlight came into the room, if it was ever sunny. It gave an open feeling. She imagined it was designed to create a sense of freedom but to her, it seemed like another example of being able to see where you couldn't go. The plain linoleum floors nearly matched the faded white tiled walls. Inside the common room were an unlikely group of patients to be put together at the same time. Interesting to think that none of them had a violent episode in the last 30 days. Then again, neither did the Joker...

Inside the room were high-profile patients: Edward Nygma a.k.a. the Riddler, Harvey Dent a.k.a. Two-Face, and Pamela Isley a.k.a. Poison Ivy. Ivy was sitting alone again by a window farthest from the common room door and guard station, reading a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. There wasn't any bright sunshine hitting her, but she still seemed relaxed. Maybe the UV rays still helped even though it was cloudy. This must be where she was allowed her extra one hour a week.

Nygma was sitting on the end of a hotel-looking dark blue couch. Some of the stuffing was coming out and arm of the chair, it had other rips in the side of it too. He was reading a newspaper and was marking in it with a green crayon. Must be the crossword puzzle. Two-Face was sitting at a small table on opposite side of the room that Ivy was on. It that had a deck of cards and a checkers board on it. He was playing with neither but was flipping a large coin between his fingers, seeming lost in thought, staring at Ivy. SHe either didn't notice or care.

There were a few other patients Harleen did not know much about, but had seen one of their faces in the Gotham Gazette . A young woman named Marylin had been front page news for about 4 days less than a year ago. Apparently the girl used to be a ballet dancer at a fine arts school, but when a rival took the lead role of a part she wanted, Marylin had become so jealous that she had stabbed the girl while wearing the lead role's costume. She was arrested when she had proceeded to perform the lead role part in front of an audience on opening night with the rival's blood still on the dress. The only other person in the room was a man she didn't know, who was huddled in a corner hugging his knees to his chest. He, too, was staring at Ivy. Though Harleen could tell the man was gazing at her with pure lust in his eyes, she could also tell he was too afraid to move any closer to her. She was just about to ask when the Joker would be arriving when she heard footsteps coming up the hallway.

Harleen checked her skirt and blouse to make sure they were smoothed out and looking professional. She had on a red blouse that had ruffles in the front, a black skirt that was a bit shorter than her knees and black heels. Her hair was in a braid she had coming over her right shoulder and down the front. She pushed her glasses up then put her hands in the pockets of her doctors coat trying to look at casual as possible.

This is it, she thought. My first observation of Joker! I can do this. I'll get to understand him, and let him know that I'm here to help him. I may be a woman, but I'm serious.

Joker was walking toward the guard station at the end of hallway when his eyes caught that flash of blond hair. Ooh, so THAT'S why I get access now. She wanted to watch me, well, who doesn't?! I'm the best lookin bloke in here. ...

As he came closer to her and the guards he got a look at what she was wearing.

What in the blinking-blue-blazes does she think she's wearing?... She CAN'T be serious.