My heart thundered in my chest and I pressed myself against the side of the van, as far from him as possible.
"Why am I here?"
I could see his sharp outline, but nothing more.
"I really thought ya would have snapped by now, Harls," he pouted.
"My name is Harleen," I said sternly.
"How 'bout Harley, hmm? Just Harley Quinn, like Harlequin. The Joker and the Jester. It's a match made in heaven!"
"You drugged me!"
"Yes, yes I did. Do you get the joke now? Ahehehehehe!"
I shuddered as I remembered the last session recording I had listened to.
The van jolted and I stumbled into him. He wrapped strong arms around me and held me to his chest.
"Woah there, doc, you outta buy me dinner first!"
He held me up straight so I didn't fall again.
"Hey, chin up Harls, I'm just borrowing you for the day," he laughed lightly, sitting me down on the mattress, "You just have to look really scared and vulnerable, I'm sure you can manage."
We drove in silence for 10 minutes and 18 seconds - I counted - before the van came to a halt. The doors opened. I had expected to see masked men with guns but instead I was met with average looking guys in suits. The Joker leaned into my ear.
"I hope you're as good an actor as I am."
Then he laughed manically and dragged me from the van into the brightness.
We were outside Wayne Enterprises and the street was bustling. The Joker wrapped an arm around me on the inside of my lab coat, but I could feel the cold steel seeping through my blouse.
"Just in case you try anything."
I turned to him, confused, and barely recognised the face I was met with. Brown hair. Smooth skin. Even the scars were barely visible. All of this was topped off with a wonderful blue suit...
"But...I..."
"It's my disguise."
Ironic.
We pushed through crowds to reach the doors. Nobody looked at us, not even a glance. I tried to act casual as we approached the reception desk. For reasons I couldn't understand, I wanted this to work.
"Yes, sir? How may I help you?" the young woman smiled.
NOTE: She addressed me, not you. Why?
I heard his voice but he hadn't spoken. He was in my head.
"I - we - have an appointment with Mr Wayne," he spoke softly. The receptionist blushed and brought something up on her screen.
"Your name?"
"Oh, he's expecting me...trust me," he winked. The woman scrunched up her face.
"I'm afraid I really need a name, sir. Security policy, you understand."
The Joker pulled me closer.
"Yes, I see. Well it's an appointment at 11 on the dot. My name is Mr Smith."
The woman, who, going by her name tag, was called Sandra, raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah, just my luck to be given the most common surname, right?" he laughed casually. The woman rolled her eyes playfully.
Slutty Sandra.
