Authors note: This is my take on Harley and the Jokers first meeting.

I should be writing my other fanfiction that I'm two weeks late on but this wouldn't leave me alone until I finished it. So blame this for my lateness. Hope you enjoy!

Dr. Harleen Quinzel wasn't one for danger. Never had been. But something about this job had caught her eye. Or... Someone. They called him the Joker. A crime lord. Gangster. Mob boss. The story changed, but the man remained. And she aimed to find out everything about him.

Her heels clicked on the concrete floor as she walked down the halls of Arkham Asylum. She knew the way, she had walked it many times before. But today... Today was the first day she was going to be face to face with him. A one on one interview with the Joker. She was almost giddy with excitement.

She fingered her keycard absently as she reached the final door, the guard checking her ID before letting her through. She had never been past this point before, so she let herself have a moment to take it in.

Rows and rows of closed cells lined the walls. But they were made tougher than the hundreds she had passed before. These were built to keep people out just as much as in.

The florescent lights hanging from the ceiling made her squint as she resumed her walking. Keeping a good distance from the cell walls. Who knew what horrible people were kept down here with him. Hmm... That was good. She thought to herself as she pulled her notepad and pencil from her lab coat and wrote that down.

It seemed inspiration struck her everywhere when it concerned him. Her book was going to shed light on the horrible misfortune of people like the Joker. She had been working on it for months at this point, and yet this was the first time she was ever going to speak to him face to face.

She had been alloud, in previous sessions, to watch him through the live security feeds, but she had needed face to face contact. And after several weeks of paperwork, and passing several tests on the way in here, she was finally going to get her interview.

"Right this way ma'am." One of the guards said as he led her down one of the halls. Harley inclined her head and smiled a little. She was so close. She couldn't wait.

Joker wasn't one to appreciate a structured day, but he did come to expect a certain order of things here at Arkham. He would be fed in the morning. He would get a chance to talk to a few of the guards as they took him to the common area. He would mingle mildly. And then he would be taken back to his cell. And it would repeat. That was normal. That was expected. And order within chaos kept him sane. Well... Sane enough.

So when the guards didn't take him to the common area, and instead to a small concrete room. He was curious. When they left him there and locked the door. He had expected an appearance by that stupid Bat-Freak that had recently become a pain in his side. But after hours passed, he honestly couldn't figure out why he was here.

He had combed every inch of the room with a trained eye, but had come up with nothing. Eventually sitting down in one of the metal chairs fastened to the floor. And would have placed his hands on the table, probably also fastened to the floor, were they not wrapped around his torso in a straight jacket. And waited. And waited. Until finally a buzz from the door pulled him from his thoughts.

The door unlocked, which was the cause of the buzz, and opened. And in stepped a girl. Well, a woman. Huh.

She stared at him with what he could only describe as a mix of wonder and awe as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and took a step closer to him.

"Mr. Joker? Or do you prefer just Joker?" were the first words from her beautifully lush lips. Oh this would be too easy. Joker decided as he smirked and leaned back a little.

"Either." Joker said simply. Putting on an act not unlike one he used on a day to day basis. "And what might I call you?" he asked as she sat down across the table from him and pulled out a note-pad and a pencil.

"Harleen Quinzel. Dr. Harleen Quinzel." she told him as she looked back up and met his eyes. Joker's smile was real now. A psychiatrist? Those were even more fun.

"Harley Quinn then." he said offhandedly, not even bothering to see if she liked the new nickname he had given her. "I assume you're here to-" but he didn't get to finish as he was interrupted.

"That's not fair. If I get a nickname, then you need one too." She was saying. "I'm sorry what?" Joker asked as he raised an eyebrow. That was... Unexpected.

She nodded, a strand of her blonde hair falling from it's structured bun on the back of her head. "Yeah. Like..." she smiled. And Joker's heart fluttered. "Mr. J."

This was getting out of hand fast, Joker realized. His smile fading. "That's a stupid nickname." he said sharply. Trying not to let his frustration with this situation show.

Harley shrugged and looked back at her note-pad. "I think it suits you."

Joker wasn't sure what to say to that. So he didn't say anything. Luckily, she talked before the silence reached awkward territory. "So, Mr. Joker, tell me about your childhood."

The smile returned and Joker leaned forward again. He could salvage this. He had several tragic backstories ready to use.

But before he could answer, she stopped him. "Wait, never mind. You have hundreds of those stories. It'll be fake."

Joker raised an eyebrow, his mouth falling open a little. This was not how he had expected this to go. "So you've done research on me." he finally said. And she nodded. A smile on her face. "Of course. You're kinda the biggest story of my career."

She was starting to sound like a reporter. And Joker hated those. "How do you figure?" he asked her. His tongue licking his teeth in an effort to unerve the poor girl. But she didn't seem detered at all.

"You're insane." She said as she looked up at him. Pushing her glasses up her nose a little farther. "And I want to find out why."

Joker didn't say anything for a few moments. Trying to figure this girl out was more difficult than it should be. "I'm not insane." he told her just before his silence got awkward.

She blinked at him a few times, and Joker was finding it harder to look away from her eyes. They were so blue...

"Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, but expecting different results." She told him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "And how many times have you tried to take over Gotham?"

She spoke to him with such authority. Boldly saying what was on her mind and seemingly not caring that the man she was talking to could kill her in an instant. Well, he couldn't kill her right now, and so far he wouldn't have wanted to. But her boldness impressed him. And did something else to him he would rather not think about right now.

He grinned at her. Actually grinned. A chuckle escaping his chapped lips as he titled his head. "I don't suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it."

She was looking at him again. And Joker could see something shift in her eyes. She may be useful yet.

"I've always thought insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage." She said as she looked down, writing something in her notebook.

"Do you think I'm insane?" He asked her after a few moments. Genuinely curious as to her answer.

She seemed to think about it for a moment before shaking her head. "No. I don't." She looked up at him and their eyes met. "Do you?"

Did he? What an odd question. He certainly acted insane. But was he really? After all, what was insanity? Who was the judge of it?

Harleen watched him. Could almost see the the thoughts running through his head. His answer would be very telling she was sure. However she would never get her answer.

The door buzzed and unlocked. A guard walking in.

"Times up ma'am." He told her as he took a small step into the room. His hand near his gun as a precaution against the Joker. Not that he needed it. He was in a straight jacket for crying out loud. Speaking of, she should talk to someone about getting him out if it.

"And so it is." Harleen said as she stood. Pushing her pencil behind her ear and putting the notepad back into her pocket.

Her eyes lingered on the Joker as the guard escorted her toward the door. He was still looking at her. Looking somewhere between disappointed an relieved. "I'll see you next week Mr. Joker." she told him before she stepped outside.

"I'll look forward to it." He said. His voice deeper and more menacing. She could her his laughter echoing down the halls as she walked them.

Joker was taken back to his cell then. Roughly shoved into a room that amounted to no more than a bed. His straight jacket remained on his body though. A new addition to his nightly routine since he had escaped last time.

Sitting down on the bed, he recalled the women. He could still smell her perfume. Lavander? And he couldn't get her out of his head. Her eyes. Her smile. Her lips...

"Stop it." He told himself. Shaking his head as he sat down on the bed. She was nothing. She meant nothing. She was nobody. She would never be anybody. And especially not to him.

"Do you think you're insane?" "Do you want me to be?" "Yes."

Authors note: This is intended to be a one-shot, but I might continue the story if the inspiration strikes, or enough of you want it. Hope you enjoyed!