The common room observation had been interesting. Harleen had watched Joker interact with other patients. Though she couldn't tell for certain if there was anything substantial to report. No, better to keep observing for now. Reporting small interactions could seem too eager, small gestures weren't significant, surely.

Walking down Arkham Asylum's many hallways, she began going over a few things she she witnessed. One, the Joker showed no aggressive behavior today. At least none that she noticed. He was conversing with Harvey Dent, better known as Two-Face in most of Gotham now, but she couldn't tell what they were talking about. Two, she now felt that since there was no aggressive behavior on his part he should be allowed another common room visit. Which led to three, she would need to speak to Dr. Leland to make sure she was coordinated on the common room schedule.

"Tomorrow," Harleen mumbled under her breath. She didn't want another face-to-face with Dr. Leland if she could help it. She opened her office door and went to sit in her chair. It felt like she had walked around the entire island, her feet felt a bit sore and she could feel the low level energy getting lower.

She gazed about her office, noting the big difference between her office and Warden Sharp's as she massaged a little blood back into the soles of her feet. The Warden had a large, expensive looking mahogany desk complete with numerous screens around the room and a large computer to control all of them. Harleen had a common dark wood grain desk you can get at any local one-stop department store. No computer yet. Stacks of papers and files on the desk. No decoration, no color, no sound. It was a bit lame. The walls were the same white color you'd find in any low-rent apartment complex around town. Warden Sharp's office had a reddish brown wallpaper that made the room feel welcoming and secure.

This room needs a pick-me-up, she thought.

Then she smiled a little. Why couldn't she decorate her office? She always loved colors. It may be a small white office with only a window -a barred window- with a little gas heater under it, but why not spruce it up a bit? Make it a work place she could feel peaceful in and really focus. She stood up, feeling a renewed sense of determination swelling inside her again. "Well, maybe I'll go see Dr. Leland after all."

"..I'm sorry?"

Dr. Leland had been working as a psychiatrist at Arkham for many years and most things didn't surprise her. This, however, confused her.

"I wanted to know if Arkham policies prohibit personalizing one's office space." Dr. Quinzel repeated. The young doctor's unexpected visit wasn't unwelcome, but she now stood in font of her desk as if she were seeking permission from a high school principle.

Dr. Leland surveyed Harleen as she addressed the question. "Arkham policies do allow it's staff to decorate offices as long as it is in a professional manner. When working with low-risk patients, we sometimes have sessions in our offices. So the atmosphere must be calming for them. Nothing too outlandish or distracting. I would advise against anything too personal."

Dr. Leland was happy to hear that the young intern wanted to make her office her own but also wanted her to think ahead; after all, her office had the same secure-yet-detached vibe that Warden Sharp's office gave off. It was necessary for the job. The walls in her office were a dark, forest green color. She had an old walnut desk with many files strewn over it. Her computer was quietly humming, the monitor casting a digital green tint to lab coat. There was an old safe implanted in the far wall where her private research was kept. But she never displayed pictures of her family or even herself in her office. Just her doctorate certificate on the wall in an expensive frame. Detachment was playing it smart, playing it safe.

Most staff didn't do much to their offices or work stations- they wanted to get in and get out. A common concept was that if nothing valuable was in the asylum, exiting quickly if need be wouldn't be hindered. But the idea that Harleen wanted to personalize her space showed that she planned on staying her for a while. So Joker hadn't scared her off. Yet.

Dr. Quinzel stood up to leave, smiling at Joan, "Thank you so much. I hope I didn't disturb you, I just wanted to check before I made any decisions."

Dr. Leland nodded, "Not at all Harleen, have a good evening, see you in the morning." As the newest intern closed the office door behind her as she left, Joan wondered how long Harleen would last at Arkham Asylum.

Harleen was glad to be home. She set the box of Joker's files on the kitchen counter, threw her purse down on the couch and kicked her heels off into the bedroom closet, wiggling her toes as she stretched her feet. God, it felt good.

She changed into a pair of comfy grey yoga pants, a black tank and washed her face in the bathroom sink. Grabbing her laptop, she sat on her bed. Her bed was comfy as she plopped herself down. It wasn't an expensive bed but it felt like home to her. She flicked on a silver bed side lamp on the nightstand next to her. The yellowish light was a warm contrast to the colors in her bedroom. The sheets, comforter, and pillows on her bed were varying shades of gray. her night stand was a metal stand with a frosted glass top. The dresser was a worn, white dresser she had bought at a second hand shop. She had never cared about luxury furniture or having a home to show off. She wasn't the sort of person who hosts dinner parties for friends.

Friends. She hadn't made any since leaving medical school. And she hadn't considered those friends she had made as life-long friends, so they fell out of touch. Sure, she received the odd text now and again but it felt insincere. Forced somehow. Like the reach-out had been out of guilt or assumed obligation. She didn't care either way, if she saw them again it would be nice but if not, she wouldn't be bothered. Moving out here had seemed right. A new start. Something fresh.

Harleen spent the next half hour checking her personal email with not much to keep her attention for more than a few minutes. Promotional ads and banking statements. Just more of the same 'here's your money and here's how to spend it!'

She closed laptop with a heavy sigh and walked into the kitchen. She got out a box of noodles, a jar of vodka pasta sauce and put a pot of water on the stove. Leaning up against the counter, waiting for the water to boil, she stared at the file box of her patient. The Joker. Now there was something to hold her interest.

Harleen walked across her small kitchen and took the lid off the box. She flipped through some of the files and was about to replace the top when she saw one of the voice recorders at the bottom. She picked it up and hit the rewind button. The recorder made a whirring noise as it rewound the audio. When it was finished, she hit play.

"Patient interview one. Dr. Tenner overseeing patient only known as Joker, no other aliases. So, Joker, this being our first session, I'd thought we'd get to know one another."

Silence.

"How are you doing today? Finding the establishment alright? The staff... the food?"

No response.

"Is there anything that you would like to chat about? Anything on your mind?"

More silence. Rustling noise in the background. Sounds like struggling against... chains?

"Well... if you don't feel like talking, we can always try again our next session. Guards!" *Doors opens, footsteps, chains again, footsteps, door closes*

*LOUD SIGH* "Patient seemed unresponsive and uninterested in communicating. Patient continues to stare off into space, looking around at room as if he were alone. Will try new tact next session."

There was a brief pause and she heard the next session begin.

*Sound of chair scraping on floor*

"Patient Interview two. Good afternoon, Mr. Joker. And how we today?"

Silence.

"As I understand it, you just had your lunch. Anything good on the menu?"

*Quiet movement heard in background, like someone shifting in seat*

*Continued silence for 3 minutes. Sound of pencil scratching on paper.

"Still don't want to talk to me? I understand, I suppose I should thank you, I get to go to lunch early. Good day, Mr. Joker. Guards!"

Door opens, metal clinks, shuffling, door closes. Silence.

"Patient still uncooperative. Seems he is either not in touch with reality or is pretending he is alone in a room. Will still strive to break communication ground with patient."

Harleen stirred in noodles as the next session began. She noticed it jumped from session 2 to session 8. Weird.

"Patient interview eight. I now start recording before patient comes into the room. The last sessions I have been giving Joker the same silent treatment he gives me, and use this time to observe how he acts. Unsure now if patient is pretending. Perhaps he isn't consciously aware."

*Door opens, footsteps, chains clink, footsteps, door closes*

"..."

*Pencil scratching*

"... *sigh*..." Who sighed, the doctor or Joker?

Silence for about 6 minutes. *Rustling, movement*

More pencil scratches, another sigh.

"Guards!" *Door opens, footsteps, door closes*

"Patient looked about the room. Looked straight through me as if I wasn't there. ... But I'm here. Right in front of his smug, smirking face. -Sigh- Perhaps if I introduce a change. Maybe allow him to sit in a more comfortable chair? ...No, he would still ignore me! And pandering to this behavior isn't acceptable. I don't think I will have much progress with his case. I will talk to the Warden about changing cases."

That poor doctor, Harleen thought. I would hate to be ignored. The next recording played.

"Patient interview nine. Warden says I must keep trying with Joker!" Harleen could hear the incredulity in his voice. "But I can't stand it. I'm a doctor and my job is to help patients, but he won't even acknowledge that I'm in the same room as him anymore. He knows I'm there. Nine sessions and it feels like I don't exist! I'm here to help him and he treats me like I'm not even there!" *Inhales and exhales deeply*

*Knock Knock Knock* "Yes? Oh, Yes! Bring him in, please!" *same footsteps, same chains*

"Well, Hello there, Doc! You my new shrink-y-dink?!"

"... uhh.. I-I'm sorry?" Even Harley raised her eyebrows at this, looking down at the tape recorder.

"Ya know, you drew the short straw! Have me as your new crazy? I must say, it's great to see new faces." Joker's cheery inflection made Harleen smile involuntarily.

"I've been your doctor for sometime. ..Nearly 2 months now."

"What ARE you talking about?! This is the first time I've ever met you!" Joker sounded as if he thought the doctor was mistaken, even illogical.

"You've been coming to this room for two months, Joker! You know you have!"

"Poppycock! They've been dumping me in a room for two months... to check for weapons, no doubt," Joker said as an after thought. "Don't know why they don't trust me," he chuckled. "Ha! I've been awfully bored-"

"NO! No, the guards have been putting you in here, with me! You've been ignoring me this whole time on purpose!"

"What? Now that's just CRAZY talk! Perhaps you should see a therapist, are in the right-"

"You son-of-a-bitch!"

*Rustling, struggling, Joker laughing* "AHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHOOOOHAHAHAHA"

*Thud!* Did he just attack him?! *Door opens, banging off the wall*

"Dr. Tenner! Get off of him, sir! Not worth it!" *More struggling, panting*

The recorder stopped. Harleen just stared wide-eyed at the recorder. What the.. Ok, she had to process this. What happened. and why.

The Joker had pretended like Dr. Tenner wasn't in the room. Just to turn it around and make the doctor seem delusional. She couldn't help but smile when she realized his joke. The doctor with a delusional patient accuses the doctor of being delusional.

Although it felt odd to smile about it, it was her job to get into his head. She needed to know how he worked, how he functioned. How he saw the world. And jokes were his thing. She took the bowl of the pasta finished making and sat at on the small sofa and flipped through TV channels, wondering what the next day would bring.

Joker sat on his cot with his back against the wall and his legs crossed. What an interesting day this had been. He learned so much about the good doctor. She was desperate to prove herself, gullible, naive and -shockingly- innocent. This doctor has never known true terror. Has never seen horror first-hand. Hasn't felt the rush of fear coarse through her body while being forced to stare down the barrel of a gun. Why, it was down right inexcusable!

Well, if no one would teach her, he would step up! She walked around here so optimistic, so hopeful. Not on his watch. He couldn't deny, however, that there was something more. He just needed more time to find out what it was. Then decide how he would peel it from her, layer by layer...

Admittedly, having ol' Two-fer around today made it more fun. He had told him what the doc was doing when he had his back turned fso he knew how and when to move. Too bad, though. Catching Harv in a good move was rare and probably would just flip that coin of his next time.

Which is why he usually worked alone or used disposable grunts to do his dirty work. One simply couldn't rely on anyone these days! He laid back on his stiff cot and wondered what laughs the next day would bring him.

"All in good time, doc, all in goooooood time. Hehehehehehahaha HAAHAHAAAHAHHAAA AAAAHHHHAAAAHAAAAHAAAHAA!"

He flipped off the camera pointed at his cell before he rolled over to get a few hours of rest before he saw the doc again.