Bad Jokes (JokerxHarley Quinn)

you hide your looks behind these scars

You hide your looks behind these scars.
-The Misfits, Hybrid Moments

For a long second, we stared at each other. Then, gathering my courage and working hard to project a sense of level calm, I quietly said, "Good morning. I'm Doctor Harleen Quinzel. I'd like to speak with you." I instantly realized that my voice had turned up slightly at the end, making the statement sound like a question. I hated myself for it.

He didn't miss it. His mouth twitched, and his eyes shifted from mine momentarily, reciprocating the once-over I had given him, scanning me from head to mid-torso (which was all he could see before the table cut off his view of the rest of me) and then crawling back up to my eyes again. He licked his lips, and, having seen enough footage of his previous sessions to determine that he had something of an oral fixation, I knew better than to take it as lechery. Then, he mumbled, "That didn't take them long."

I had a fairly good idea of what he meant, but I was determined to start strong, to show him that I didn't intend to be pushed around. So, I asked, "Excuse me?"

He straightened up from his slouch, clearing his throat, showing the surprising consideration of covering his mouth with a closed fist. "Nothin', Doc. Something caught in my throat. Uh—what was it you were saying?"

I watched him warily, wondering if it would undermine my authority if I let him get away with almost-certainly insolent mutterings, but a quick reality check reminded me that in all honesty, I had no real authority. I might be able to stand my ground, but that was the best I could hope for—judging from what I'd seen, he was going to steer the conversation in the direction he wanted it to go no matter what I did, so I yielded. "I wanted to ask you some questions."

"Oh, by all means," he said genially, almost before I was finished speaking. "I'm here... for your entertainment."

I didn't like this. It threw me off guard. For him to be so outwardly cooperative... it meant that he was hiding something. Maybe. The fact that I couldn't tell if there was an undertone to the statement (bitterness? sarcasm?) only made it worse.

I decided to take him at his word and start with the obvious question, just to see where it got me. "Why did you take on this alias?" I asked, gesturing towards him. "Why the Joker?"

Admittedly, he didn't look particularly clownish at the moment—not in the orange Arkham jumpsuit, not stripped of his makeup, cuffed and shackled, sitting docile at the table. He must have been conscious of this as he jerked his head to the side and decided to play. "Well... ya see, I just... have this incredible sense of humor. Not to toot my own horn, but..." He inclined his head as if to say there you have it.

"Most people don't find your sense of humor so amusing," I replied coolly.

The Joker shrugged. "Well, I can't be held accountable for other people's, uh, bad taste."

"Maybe you're the one with bad taste," I suggested, provoking him, angling for a less-than-cordial response. The Joker cocked his head. He studied me, and I worked to keep my face impassive.

"Ya know, I don't think so," he said at last, leaning slightly over the table. "I think I just see things cuh-learly." His eyes rolled into the back of his head with this word, like a rabid dog's, but he showed no signs of real aggression, and a split-second later, his eyes rolled back forward and he was watching me again.

I turned my head slightly, looking speculatively at him from the corner of my eye, trying not to show how shaken up I was already. "You say you see things differently."