Authors' Note: This story is written from two different perspectives and by two different people. It has an unusual/unique structure. Please write a review if you'd like. This is our first story actually published. Thank you for reading.

Author's Note Part II: In the beginning, this is quite similar to Mad Love. However, it does not follow the comic after Harley and Joker leave Arkham. Please read with an open mind. This FanFiction and all its characters are not meant to be (and will not be) exactly like the comics/movies/animated series/t.v. shows. Creative flexibility is a good thing.

"Clowns are funny people. They only love once."

-The Greatest Show on Earth (1952)

His strong fingers closed around the doorknob. He was deadly silent. Barely breathing. Excitement gripped him inside. He grinned madly. What a laugh this would be! They would have no idea. He personally doubted dear Harlequin would say a word. She would be amused. Probably absolutely and completely in awe of him. He turned the handle and slipped into the quiet, neatly organized room. He laid the vase on her desk and touched the petals of the rose gently. He wondered how her skin felt. As smooth as the rose petal? He smiled again to himself. He would find out....

And with that, the Joker made his disappearing act.


It was a few hours later when Ms. Harleen Quinzel finally entered her office. Arkham sure was one tiring place to work at! It would be worth it though. Best selling books had to have good topics. As she slipped off her blazer she noticed a reflection from the corner of her eye. The moonlight had caught a vase resting on her desk. One red rose was elegantly lighted in the pale glow. She walked over and reached for the card gently, heart hammering in her chest. "Come Visit Me. -J-" As she lifted the sweet petals to her nose, a smile spread across her lips. How romantic!


He really didn't like waiting. The Joker wasn't particularly known for his patience. He paced back in forth in his cell. It reminded him of a cardboard box. He placed a finger to the wall. Only, it wasn't flimsy. The walls were white and sterile. They liked everything clean here. Joker liked things dirty though. Dirt made things more interesting. He took a deep breath. Waiting. He started pacing again, unable to stand still. She had to have gotten it by now. She must have.

Harleen took deep breaths as her heels clicked a steady beat against the floors. She had gotten used to the strange looks the inmates gave her. They had never scared her. It was more the fact that they were like animals in a zoo. It was horrible. She walked a bit too quickly past the other cells betraying her unease. She came to an abrupt stop when she reached his. It had been a goal of hers to figure out where his cell was from the begining, so she hadn't had any trouble finding it. "I just came to ask if you'd happen to know how this," she held up the card as proof of the gift, "got into my office. I'm sure the guards would like to know how you've been getting out of your cell."

Joker suddenly stopped pacing. He grinned, "Oh, you finally decided to come." He walked a bit closer to her stopping two feet from the wall of bulletproof glass. "Did you like it?" his eyes sparkled. No, she hadn't told on him and wasn't going to. He quickly scanned her up and down. She had long legs under a trim black skirt, a small waist, and such a beautiful chest. His gaze when to her face. Exquisite. Long eyelashes and her blonde bombshell hair. He felt hot, on fire. He burned with the need to touch her. Feel her. Have her. He clenched his fists. Control it, Joker. He was really losing it this time. This would be a worthy conquest. Maybe a bit of a challenge...

"I take it you're not going to tell me how you got out." She sighed, rolling her eyes a bit. It was obvious that he was looking her up and down, which was a little flattering. From what she'd heard, the Joker didn't waste much time on women.

He finally pulled his attention back to her eyes. Gorgeous eyes. He leaned forward slightly putting his hand on the side of his mouth like he was going to wispher something in her ear, his voice was low and soft, "It's a secret. I can't tell you here."

It was instinct to lean forward. She couldn't stop herself. He was hypnotizing. That was the best word for it. Ever since she had started down this career path she had been interested in the Joker's story and here he was offering to tell her secrets. Somehow, she managed to keep her facial features smooth. "Well, if that's all, I think I should be going." It was late. She wanted to get home. It would also be nice if he didn't want her to leave. If he tried to stop her.

His eyes suddenly lost their mischeivous look. He turned his head to the side slightly. He analyzed her expression. There was something underneath her words. "Leaving so soon?" He then turned around and headed toward his hard metal cot. He laid back easily, lounging like a tiger. He addressed the ceiling now, "Everyone always leaves." He gave a small sigh.

Maybe that was a bit too dramatic? Pity always worked well to his advantage though.

His heart beat in his chest faster than usual. If he could interest her just enough to make her want a private session he would have her.

Something in her heart gave a painful surge for him. So what if he was a psychopathic criminal? Everyone got lonely. That thought was only allowed a moment in her brain. She couldn't get too connected to any of the inmates. A little smile graced her lips as she started to walk away, "I'll be seeing you soon." It was a promise. No way were they going to deny her this patient.


The Joker had some work to do. He was let into the small office in a chains like a dangerous animal. They strapped him down to a chair. He chuckled. They were all afraid of him. His psychiatrist, a small man with brown hair, smiled and cleared his throat, "So, Joker, how are you today?"

The Joker smiled in response, "I would like to see Harleen Quinzel. Do you know where she is?" His tone was oddly pleasant as if he were talking about the weather.

The psychiatrist frowned. Perhaps he should just start over...he cleared his throat again, "What have you been thinking about lately?"

The Joker grinned even more. This was going to be so much fun. His voice turned mean in an instant. His mood shifted faster than a speeding bullet, "You have the most nasally voice I've ever heard. It's like a little monkey's. I can't really make out what you are saying. Did you ever have childhood issues? I'm sure you had some bullies. They must have picked on your unibrow. It's hideous. All furry. It's very similar to monkey hair. I think I see some acne over there too. Monkey's have acne on their asses though. Is your face your ass?" The Joker widened his eyes waiting for the response. The psychiatrist's face was red. He was going to explode. Delight flooded Joker's being.


One down.

"Harleen, please consider this." The ugly, old geezer pleaded, glancing oddly at the door. "I know you're new and all, but he will not shut up."
She grinned a little, but easily turned that into a pleasant smile, "It's all right, I'm sure if he sees me once or twice he'll get over it." God she hoped not.
"Thanks, Harleen. If anything weird happens, the body guards are on stand by." He walked away then. Probably to take a tranquilizer. He seemed a bit stressed out.
She pushed the door open gently, notebook and pen gripped tightly in her hand. Her heart was hammering away again. They had him strapped down with a million chains. Was he really that dangerous? "Good afternoon. I hear you've been asking to see me." She had to stay professional.

The Joker wiggled in his straightjacket, "I'd love to shake your hand, but I can't really feel anything below my shoulders." He shrugged, the chains rattling like a maraca.

That almost cracked her mask. She wanted to laugh out loud, but that was against the rules. No laughing at his jokes. No sharp objects near him. Don't let him turn the tables. "So, what should I call you? Joker? Mister Joker?" She wasn't quite sure. No one knew his real name.

"Call me whatever you want," he smiled leaning forward. His eyes weren't black but a dark red-purple color. They clashed well with his green hair and pale skin.

Harleen swallowed the lump in her throat and sat down, crossing her legs at the knee. "Well, I think I'll stick with Mister Joker." She started to scribble on her notepad. "To start things off...Why do you want to speak with me so badly?"

His eyes traveled to her legs. Her skirt was shorter today. God. He felt the saliva pool in his mouth. He wanted to lick her. Everywhere. He swallowed. He needed to have her willing though which required waiting. Waiting was so hard. He kept his gaze on her long legs. His gaze flickered back to her divine face, "I think sex kitten would be a great name for you, harlequin. It seems so burlesque." His mischeivous smile was back.

Thank God she was used to jerks hitting on her. Not that he was a jerk. She was just so used to it that she didn't blush anymore. Well, the Joker got her to blush a little, but not enough to really make a difference. What had he just called her? "Did you just call me Harlequin?" It didn't make sense to her. This had to be a good thing to write down.

"Yeah. Harleen Quinzel. If you just shorten it to Harley-Quinn. Harlequin! The perfect companion for a clown. We have something in common." He smiled genuine this time. She was perfect, his perfect goddess. He suddenly looked at the floor and then back at her. He seemed to be unsure of something.

Her pen moved frantically across her in common? They had a link! Best selling book, here I come! She never even looked away from him while she was writing, "So, you think we have something in common? That's why you'd prefer to speak with me than Dr. Hayes?"

Joker nodded slowly, "Plus, sweet, you are much, much nicer to look at." He took a deep breath. He couldn't stop himself from saying it, "Could you say my name? Just once. Then we can chat." It was instinctive.

"Mister Joker?" It was more of a question because she didn't know what exactly he wanted her to call him. Talking to the Joker was like talking to a...a...she couldn't describe it. Put simply, it was very hard to keep up with him.

He sighed theatrically, "Joker is fine." If only she would scream it. He kept pushing the thoughts back. He had to follow the plan. Might as well embrace it, "How do you want to know me, Harley?"

His eyes glittered, a smile on his red lips.

"Well, considering the circumstances, I consider you a patient." She answered, her voice still somewhat informal. It would be nice to know his deepest, darkest secrets. But they would have to get to know each other first. Build a nice bridge of trust. "Now, I do believe I'm the one that's supposed to be asking questions. Anything you'd like to talk about?"

He laughed, "I want to talk about a lot. Perhaps, it's best if you ask me specific things. I don't think you are quite ready for me to talk about what I want." Oh, and how he wanted a lot.

A sweet smile was plastered to her face. She was always excellent at faking smiles. No one could tell she didn't mean them. "Well, why don't we start with something simple. Do you have any friends?" Did insane super villians have friends? What a lame question to start with...

He sighed. "No. They don't really like my clever mind. It makes them feel stupid." He smiled, "I'm just waiting for someone to laugh at the right time, you know?" Trust me. Trust me. If she would just fall into the trap.

Her smile became a little more genuine then. He was very witty and funny! No one else in this boring old place had even an ounce of comedy in their body. "Okay. Well, have you ever had someone you considered a friend?" There had to be someone! Anyone!

He shook his head, tossing the bright green hair out of his face. "No. I'm not anti-social. Society is anti-me. I think perhaps people are a little, teensy bit frightened. I hear screams more than laughs when I go out." He ground a foot into the floor. Being modest was quite difficult. He wasn't used to trying so hard. He looked back at his angel, "But, I bet you never have those problems. Jaws drop over you, don't they sweet?"

Her smile got even more natural. In her opinion, he wasn't as scary as the media made him out to be. Harley ignored his question though, not wanting to give him the oppurtunity to turn the tables. "What about your family?"

The Joker's face fell. His memories were fuzzy about his life before the incident. The chemicals made him forget most everything, even his own name. He had to create himself all over again. It was like being given a new life...with a few drawbacks. He met her eyes. She was curious but not overly eager like some of the other psychiatrists were. Plus, this would give her something to keep her coming back. He cleared his throat. His voice was quiet, "My father used to hit me a lot. He had a bad temper. And...well... my mother wasn't around a lot. Even when he did get violent...she used to just stand by and watch him. Her face was like a mask. He just hit me over and over again. I usually didn't even know what I did—what triggered it." He looked at the floor. "We went to this circus one time though and the clown. The clown made him laugh. I'd never seen him laugh before and I always tried to get him to do it again. It never worked. I can't...remember much more. Every thing is really hazy." He dug his fingers into the straight jacket's rough cloth. Anxious. He didn't like thinking about the past. He lived in the present. No future and no past.

Harleen couldn't help it. Her eyes started to water. She wiped at her eyes with her fingers quickly, pretending an eyelash had fallen in her eye. She thought she had been ready for everything. Obviously, she wasn't ready. As she was about to ask him more, there was a knock on the door. "Ms. Quinzel, time is up. We're coming in." It was those blasted body guards.

Joker's head whipped around. He growled under his breath. His anger boiling up from where he had kept it so carefully guarded. Stupid fucking guards. He turned back to Harley. His eyes pleading, "It can't be time just yet. We've just been talking for a few minutes." He was tense, every muscle tightened. He clenched his white teeth together hard. He wanted to kill them. He really did. His fingers were just itching to grip their necks and squeeze. He laughed out loud. That would be funny. He needed more time. He needed her to get enough so she would keep coming back again and again.

Harleen stood up quickly, not quite sure what to do. That laugh was so out of place. It was like he laughed to express every emotion. His laugh wasn't happy. It was full of exasperation and anger. "I'll make sure to have an appointment scheduled as soon as possible." She wanted to talk to him again. There wasn't enough to write her book yet. The guards came in then, one obviously looking her up and down under the excuse of making sure she was okay. Jerks.

The Joker clenched his teeth even harder. Now, he really wanted to kill them. She was his. No one else should look at her like that. He took a deep breath and held it in. He tried to be calm. His mind spun and his vision was tinged with red. No. Nope. No chance. A guard placed a hand on his shoulder and mouthed a few words. He couldn't undersand them. His ears were ringing. He laughed again. Unable to stop it from bubbling out. He flexed his arms pulling trying to release them. It was an uncontrollable impulse. Instinct. He hated being bound and tied. He hated being controlled. He needed to control. He was starting to forget how it felt to be free.

Harley felt a terrible ache in her heart as they dragged him away. No human deserved to be treated like that. No one deserved to be abandoned. She was going to take up this case if it was the last thing she ever did. She was going to heal the Joker.


Joker sat tapping his foot. Every tap created a little jingle. His ankles had huge shackles wrapped around them and chained to the floor. He was in a straight jacket still but at least he was able to actually move legs a bit. Stand up or sit down on his own. That was a very, very slight improvment. She must have said something to make them trust him. Oh, harlequin was such a doll.

Harleen walked into the room and sat down carefully in her chair. Wearing such short skirts had its risks. She smiled over at her favourite patient and asked, "How've you been, Mister Joker?"

The jingle made him think. His lust was running wild today. Uncontrollable. He wondered what she would look like when bound her hands together. Would she scream? He tried to think of something else. Her miniscule skirt didn't help him clear his mind. He grinned at her, "I'm just dandy. How about you, kitten? You look goregous today. I think every color must look fantastic on you." Oh yes. Flattery always worked well.

He took ever single chance to make a pass at her. The thing was, whenever he commented on her apperance it wasn't the same as when the jerks just stared at her. "Thank you. Now, about our last session. Before we were rudely interrupted, you were telling me about your parents. So, you tried to be a clown so that your father would love you? So that you could make him laugh?" That would explain so much.

Joker's thoughts quickly evaporated. His heart felt heavier. Oh. Back at this again. She really wanted to dig up the past. He had buried it so well! He despised being patient. He shrugged, no chains rattled this time. "I just wanted to make him laugh. Make him happy. Be a good son. It never was enough though. I was never good enough." His dark mauve eyes were examining the plain white wall. It was much easier talking mindlessly to a wall than to Harleen Quinzel. He was actually able to focus.

Her eyes were already watering again. Damn. She wanted to give him a hug. He needed one. That would be completely against the rules though. "Do you think Batman is like an extension of your father?" Batman was always defeating the Joker. Always making the Clown Prince of Crime feel like a failure. It must be hard to deal with that sort of pressure.

"NO!" The word came out too forcefully. His anger burst from the cage. The Joker snarled viciously. How dare she say that. Batman, the caked, good-for-nothing slimeball. He clenched his jaw trying to control his emotions. He suddenly deflated. He really should have been an actor. He was so good at it. "Batman. Has. Always. Annoyed. Me," He said the words carefully trying to keep his tone regular. Batman was a constant pain in the ass. His pride and sheer damn luck always had kept him from dying. It had been close though. It had been so very close.

She couldn't help but move back in her seat a bit. The next question had to be asked. It was good to push patients a little. Even if it was scary, it was good for them. "So, I guess that the rumors of you having a homoerotic crush on Batman are a load of crap." What crazy idiot had started those anyway?

That pushed him over. He suddenly exploded. He wripped his arms out of the straight jacket in one violent twist and screamed. "NO. YOU WANT TO SEE IF I'M A FAGGOT?!?" He yelled, his eyes bulging slightly. His gaze was cruel and slicing. His vision was completely red. He couldn't think any more. He wanted to rip something, beat something. His grin was insane. He cooled slightly as he reached for her. His hand held out, trying to grasp her skin or clothes. "Come here, angel. I can show you I'm not a fag." He said it softly, barely a whisper. He tried to take a step forward. He couldn't move his foot it was chained to the floor. He clenched his hands into fists. He was chained like a fucking animal. He looked at her again, his voice alluring, a seductive purr, "Come here, Harley. Come to me." Even muscle was tensed ready to spring on his prey. He was so angry he thought he would explode. The Joker had never really been insulted before. It was a wretched blow to his pride.

He needed violence. It always made him feel better.

Fear shot through her as he yelled. It was so sudden. She hadn't even meant to make him that angry. Her heart beat hard in her chest, her lungs tried to work. She couldn't move. For some reason, part of her wanted to run and the other part wanted to get closer. This way she was left in the middle. It was horrible. "Mr. Joker, I didn't mean to upset you..." Her voice was quiet.

His eyes widened and he laughed insanely. He stopped enough to choke out, "That's funny." And started laughing again. He wrapped his arms around his chest trying to keep his sides from spliting. He was going to die laughing. Oh, the irony.

Her eyes were wide as she finally took a step forward. That was probably a very foolish thing to do, but it was her instinct. She had to calm him down somehow. He was too dangerous like this. She didn't want to have to call security. It would be awful to see them hurt him. Another step closer to him. He could definitely reach her now.

He suddenly stopped. The Joker's mood shifted so quickly no one could ever keep up. "Are you accepting my offer, Harley?" His eyes suddenly were seriously. His pulse beat stronger. He kept his hands firmly clenched on his sides. If he touched her, he wouldn't be able to stop. She was too perfect. Her beautiful face was so close. She might not be so much of a challenge after all.

Now she was very confused. At least the fear was melting away a bit. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about." She scrunched her eyebrows together and looked up at him carefully. Her body was still tense. She had to be ready for anything.

He looked down at her with excitement, "I'm straight. Very, very straight, darling." It was becoming harder and harder to control. He could smell her now. A sweet, fragrant scent filled his head. He needed her to touch him. She needed to trust him.

The fear was back, but this time it was different. He had the advantage at this point. The Joker was insane and powerful. She didn't stand a chance. Her breathing got a bit faster and her head started to spin. "I-I don't think so." She didn't want to upset him again, but wasn't about to lie to him. Lying would be worse.

He sighed, "Move then." He unclenched his hands. It should be easy to let her go. It wasn't. How could she not leap at him? Give her a little while longer, a voice told him. He really hated being patient. She wasn't moving. She was frozen in place. He shook his head, "Really, you should move now."

Her body wasn't listening to her brain. "I can't." She was scared now. Why couldn't she move!? Hadn't she learned something about this during her school years. Her brain wasn't even working enough to let her remember that. "I can't move." There was no fear in her voice, despite what she felt inside.

The Joker smirked, "I see." He did. So, clearly. Her panicked eyes told him exactly what he wanted to know. Her subconscious knew but her conscious was rebelling. Good. Things were going right on schedule. He suddenly sat down again. He grinned up at her, "I can only take one rejection a day, kitten. Your magic eight-ball says 'Try Again Later.' " He tsked, "Too bad for you."

Harleen backed up then, managing to sit down on her chair without looking. Her mind and heart were still racing. She couldn't make sense of this. Good thing she didn't have to. The guards rushed in then. "We heard the noise and - oh shit!" One exclaimed, looking at how the Joker had gotten out of the straight jacket. "Did he hurt you, Ms. Quinzel?"
She didn't even get a chance to explain.
"Hey, Clown!" The guard taunted. "What the hell did you do?"

Joker sat up gracefully. His face a mask. His voice was pleasant, "We were just talking weren't we, Miss Quinzel?" He turned to her and grinned, his white teeth almost matched his pale skin.

She nodded her head, quickly regaining her professional composure. "I was about to explain this to you, but you jumped to conclusions."
"Why is his straight jacket all torn?" The other guard asked.
Harley raised an eyebrow, "Oh. I didn't know that it wasn't supposed to be like that. That's how he came in." She didn't like lying, but the thought of them beating him up was worse. If her star patient was put in solitary, how was she going to get his secrets? And if they thought she was in danger they would never let her back on the case.

The Joker grinned even more. She lied. Hah. He was corrupting her. The guards came up to him. They were bullish and brawny but no brains. "Time to go, clown. You'll be in trouble for getting out of the straight jacket. Maybe they'll give you a metal one next time." The bigger one reached down and slid the key in the chain around his ankle. As soon as Joker heard the click he slammed his knee into the guards nose. He heard the crunch of the cartilage breaking. He'd really been wanting to do that for a long, long time.