"Harrrrley," the Joker muses.
"Morning to you too," I mumble, then continue speaking. "Why did you give me the rose?"
"I thought I should give you a little token of my appreciation."
I raise my eyebrows. What the hell? Why would he give me a rose out of all things he could? And more importantly why does he appreciate me?
He watches me think, as he taps his fingers on his cheek. This is proof he's messing with me. He's ridiculous. He's just... Badshit crazy. He's a complete nutjob. He's just a huge asshole.
I study his face. The paint he usually wears is off. He looks around the same age as me. He has dark green eyes but I can't stop looking at... his scar. It looks like someone took a knife and carved a smile right into his face. It looks like it must hurt.
The Joker's tongue moves against his scar from the inside of his cheek, as he watches me.
"Why? What did I do for you? All I did was get you to talk," I say, then he lets out a laugh.
"Harley, Harley, Harley.... There is so much you don't understand," he says..."Yet...," he says under his breath.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" I question, and he lets out a dark, wicked and twisted laugh, that brings goosebumps to my arms.
"Harrrley," he coos, "shouldn't you be leaving now?"
I look down at my watch. He's right.... I should be leaving, if I don't want to get caught. I sigh as I turn around.
"I'll be seeing you later my dear," he says.
"You won't, the odds aren't in favor of that..." I say as I turn away from him.
"We'll be seeing each other soon.... Don't worry Harrrley."
I sigh as I walk out of the room. This man makes no sense at all. Why does he even want to see me? It's not like I'm gonna run up to his cell and talk to him, and I'm positive that I won't even be overseeing his treatment. So... how will he see me?
••••••••••••••••••••
I walk into the conference room. Doctor Arkham and a few other doctors sit around the table.
"Good morning. As you all know, I am Doctor Arkham and we are all here to talk about the events of last night, and about patient 44267, otherwise known as the Joker," Doctor Arkham says loudly. "For those of you who do not have any knowledge of the events of last night, I will explain. Last night around 10:30 to 11:00 o'clock pm, the Joker broke out of his cell. During that time he killed six guards and two nurses, then he wounded five others. I have gathered you all here to answer an important question: 'Is patient 44267 safe to keep here and to treat at Arkham asylum?'"
"I believe that he is better off here than on the streets," a man says.
The man looks familiar to me. It takes me a few seconds to realize that the man is none other than Gothlem's richest citizen and the owner of Wayne enterprises, Bruce Wayne.
"He'd be better off in Blackgate," another man says.
"I believe that he can be treated," I say and everyone looks at me.
"He refused to answer any of my questions," Doctor Leland says.
"Let me try to treat him. He answered me when I was with him," I say crossing my arms, looking a bit tough.
"Okay. I believe that we have two choices," Doctor Arkham says. "One choice is to send patient 44267 to Blackgate and the second choice is to let patient 44267 stay here at Arkham; Doctor Harleen Quinzel would be working with him instead of Doctor Leland? All those in favor of sending the Joker to Blackgate, raise your hand," Doctor Arkham says; then a little less then half of the people in the room put their hands up. "And all those in favor of keeping the Joker here at Arkham Asylum raise your hand," he says - then not even a split second later my hand shoots up into the air. Most of the people in the room raise their hands, agreeing with me. "It's settled; the Joker will be staying here - at Arkham - and Doctor Harleen Quinzel will be working with him instead of Doctor Leland," Doctor Arkham says.
I leave the room before anyone gets the chance to say something to me. I glance at my watch and see that the meeting only lasted for two hours. I feel a light tap on my shoulder and turn around to see Doctor Arkham.
"Harleen, you should speak with him right now. Ten o'clock is usually when he gets to meet with his doctor," Doctor Arkham says then walks away.
"Yes sir!" I call after him, then walk to my office to get my note pad and a pen.
I walk into my office and go to my desk. Right on top of my notebook lays a Joker card. I smile seeing it... for some reason. I hide the card in my desk and smile. Why am I smiling? What is making me smile? Was it that the Joker put a joker card on my desk? Why do I care about it? This makes no sense!
••••••••••••••••••••
"Welcome back Harrrley," the Joker greets.
"Hello. I'd like to keep things on a professional level, so please call me Doctor Quinzel."
"Okay then, you should call me Mr. J then.
"Well okay then... Mistah J," I say as I sit down at the desk. "So how has your time at Arkham been, so far?"
He smiles as he leans in, closer to my face. "I barely saw you, my dear," he says. All I can focus on is how close his face is to mine and his scars. I look at his face and see a tattoo on his forehead that says: Damaged. I can't help but lean in a little bit closer to him.
"Why?" I ask softly as I stare at the tattoo.
"That's what the world thinks I am..." he says, looking into my bright blue eyes with his dark, handsome, green ones.
"I wouldn't change anything about you for the world," I say staring at his lips. They look oh so, soft; just so... Kissable.
"Ya know Harley - my dear - I was taught that if you want something you should take it," he says, then I feel his lips on mine. I kiss back as I put my hands in his hair. His hair was just so soft to the touch; I love the way it feels in my hands. Our lips synchronized and I feel his scars. They are rough and bumpy; they feel like they were carved into his cheeks. It feels like someone took a knife and cut right through his cheek; it must have hurt so much.... We both pull away at the same time.
"You were my first..." I say.
"And what an honor it was Harley," he says, with a huge smile creeping across his face, and I can't help but blush.
I glance at the time. The session is supposed to be over right now, but I really don't want to leave.
"I should get going," I say, then I kiss his cheek softly. "Bye Mistah J," I whisper in his ear then gather my stuff and turn to leave.
"Goodbye Harl," he says as I walk out the door with a smile. I go back down to my office and look over all the information I gathered about my Mistah J. The way he thinks is beautiful... just stunning. His take on society, it makes so much sense to me. He makes so much sense, but why can't anyone else see that? Why am I the only one?
