All In The Cards

Questions

Sorry this has taken so long. I'm almost done with the next part of this. I cannot get on the internet at school, so I can't update ANYTHING. Bare with me. I AM working on all my other stories (yes, including SpideyPool) so updates WILL come.

Enjoy!

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Harleen had gone over and over Joker's file, and had attempted to find birth records, school records, medical records, anything to explain a bit more about his childhood.

There was nothing. It was like James Napier didn't exist. 

But how could that be? Had someone just erased everything to do with him? 

Harleen took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. She'd taken her makeup off hours ago, so it didn't matter. She couldn't get her mind off of Mr. J. He was such an interesting character, and she really wanted to know more about what had happened to him. 

It had been suspected that he'd been abused as a child, and that he'd killed his parents. But it had never been confirmed until now. She couldn't believe the story behind his face. She truly felt sorry for him. 

Harleen could attempt to make his stay at Arkham better. Maybe give him a few blankets, some books... As his doctor, she could confirm or deny him numerous privileges. She had a lot of control over his care, as she was currently the only human being able to sit calmly with him and steer the conversation her way without protest. 

You're getting too attached, Quinzel. 

No, of course she wasn't. She could still distance herself while caring. She cared about all her patients health, well-being and comfort. 

...Okay, maybe not to the extent that she did with Mr. J, but he was a special case. She felt special and unique to be the only person he opened up to, and she found it quite interesting that he wanted to know details about her. 

Harleen looked at the clock. Three in the morning. You have work in four hours. She should sleep. 

She snorted. Yeah. Right. As soon as I tell Santa what I want for christmas so the toothfairy can do a follow-up. 

Harleen didn't sleep. Ever, really. It was why she had excelled in college. Everyone else had been about to pass out or kill themselves from sleep deprivation, but she hardly ever slept at night. Sure, it meant she was tired all the time, but that was a familiar feeling. 

She poured a cup of coffee, grabbed Mr. J's notepad of behavior and a pen, and started writing. 

Joker heard a knock on his cell and lifted his head, laying it back against the brick wall. A guard stood outside the glass, jingling his keys. 

"Now Mr. J, I've been given orders to make your cell a bit more comfortable. You be kind to me, and I'll be kind to you, otherwise, we gonna have ourselves a problem. Understood?"

Joker smirked and inclined his head. "By all means, Mikey, Me celda es su celda."  He replied, splaying his arms to gesture around the glass box. 

Mikey walked in and placed a pillow and blanket down on Joker's cot, never giving Joker his back. 

"I've been asked to ask you if you would like any books or drawing paper or anything recreational." Mikey said, putting his thumbs in his belt. 

Joker's brow furrowed. "By whom?" who the hell would care if he was comfortable or bored?

"Dr. Quinzel." Mikey answered.