Tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.

The Joker was bored and frustrated. The staff at Arkham had done their utmost to make sure that he’d stay contained. Everything in his room was bolted down, there were cameras monitoring his every movement, and most frustrating of all, he had had no human contact for two weeks. The tray bearing his food was slipped through a slot in the bottom of the door and picked up later. All he ever saw of the person bringing sustenance was shadows.

He smiled, a real smile, his mouth turning upwards. They were scared, as they should be. Though what did they expect him to do? Even he had to admit that his hands were tied- figuratively at least- thanks to Batman. It was small consolation he’d become Gotham’s Most Wanted.

The drumming of his fingers stopped. Was that- footsteps? He tilted his head and rose from his chair to place his ear to the door, dark eyes gleaming. Yes. Someone was coming. It wasn’t lunchtime yet, which meant-

There was the sound of latches and locks being undone. The door opened and he quickly sat down. The Joker was fairly sure that good behavior wouldn’t get him released any earlier but he planned to try. He had passed the time rather pleasantly, trying to figure out how he would get out… for a day. None of his schemes would work, as they called for certain ingredients and of course a human element.

Someone entered. It was a woman; he took her measure silently. She was very petite and curvaceous. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. There was no make-up on her lovely face, no jewelry adorning her. The features of her face were elegant and she carried herself with an unconscious grace and confidence. It was her amber eyes, flecked with black, that were her best feature.

She was beautiful, even though she had done nothing to accentuate that beauty. Silently, she moved across the cell to sit on the edge of her bed. He hadn’t heard the others depart, which meant the guards were standing right outside the door. Not that he planned on doing anything to the first face he’d seen in what felt like forever. Not yet.

“I am Dr. Harleen Quinzel but feel free to call me whatever is most comfortable for you,” she said. “I have been assigned to your case-“

“My case?” he asked.

“Yes, your arraignment is in a month and I am going to be making sure you are competent and whether or not you can file an insanity plea,” she said. Her voice was as lovely as the rest of her, low and husky, rich and velvety.

“And what do you think?” he asked. One corner of her mouth tipped upwards.

“I thought I was the one who was supposed to be asking the questions. But I will answer yours.” There was a brief pause as her eyes clouded over in thought. A moment later they cleared. “Only a powerful and organized mind could have done what you did. Madness takes many forms, though. I would know.” Once again she smiled. “Whether or not yours is the… acceptable brand remains to be seen.”

“So you’ve already made up your mind?” he pressed.

“We are all a little mad-“ She paused. “Is there something else I can call you besides Joker?” He chuckled, the sound echoing through the room.

“Jay,” he said. Harleen nodded. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you anything?” he asked, his voice full of challenge and curiosity. Silence fell and she smiled. Even to him there was something chilling about it. Her eyes seemed to grow darker as she leaned forward.

“You do. I’m willing to listen to you and I am the one person who will play your advocate. Here at least. You want out- understandably so- and one way or another you’re going to regain your freedom. In order to do that, you’re going to have to cooperate to some extent.”

They stared at each other. She was right. But what was he supposed to tell her? Certainly not the truth. Harleen rose, heading towards the door and something like disappointment flooded him. “You’re leaving?” he said.

“Yes. I’ll be back when you’re ready. Think about what I’ve said. It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said. She rapped on the door and it was opened for her. Casting one last look over her shoulder, she stepped through the doorway and out of his sight. It was shut and relocked. For several moments, he just stared at the door, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smiled.

“The pleasure, I fear, will be entirely mine, Harley.”