This is dedicated to Tammy. I myself have always wondered exactly what Crane did to Joker to make him hate him (he's always disliked him in the comics as well) so it was fun to just let my imagination run wild, although one of the many reasons I'm sure of that he doesn't like Crane is simply because Crane likes Harley and Joker (as we all know) is very jealous when it comes to her. But here's a further look into more of the reason's why he doesn't like him, I hope you enjoy it! - Donna Jossee

Prompt: What Exactly Jonathan Crane Did To The Joker To Make Him Hate Him

I'm Not Jealous

Joker sat, staring at Doctor Arkham as he'd just asked a question that many before him had asked, "why do you hate Jonathan Crane so much?"

What was there about the string-bean-bastard to like?

He was cocky, completely too full of himself . . . And J didn't like the way he looked at Doctor Quinzel. Or the way he bragged about his progress since seeing her as his doctor. But that was another story for another time.

"Why do you think I hate him?" J retorted and Arkham sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead.

"I think it's because you're threatened by him." He scoffed and J's smile slowly faded.

"Sorry, threatened by what? He's 5'8 and 140 pounds of pure bone and a little meat. I could kick his ass from one end of this damned city to the next with no problem. I've actually tried to do so but the guards wouldn't let me get a sixth punch in before they tased me and doped me up on sedatives."

"Not physically threatened . . . He's a very smart man. Perhaps you're—"

"—Incredibly skilled in Mathematics, Chemistry, Physics, Quantum Mechanics, fluid in French, Spanish, German, Italian, Turkish, Greek, and Latin - only god knows how high my IQ is but it continues to increase the older I get - oh and can take practically anything apart and put it back together?" J interrupts him. "Yeah. Not threatened by his brains either."

"You are an Alpha male, Joker. Jonathan tends to be on the Alpha male side as well . . . Perhaps you're worried he threatens your position in this asylum as well as in the underworld of Gotham?"

The laughter spills from Joker like Niagara Falls and Arkham sighs again, frustrated.

"You think I don't like him because he's 'alpha male' as you so loosely put it?"

"The same reason you don't bond very well with Pamela. She's a very Alpha Female—"

"—I'm definitely not threatened by a woman, Doctor. That I'm damn sure of."

"So you admit you're threatened by Crane?"

Joker stares at him, his jaw clenched, his breathing picking up.

"I am not intimidated, threatened, or scared by Jonathan fucking Crane." He growls out.

"Then why do you hate him?"

"HA! THE BASTARD'S TOO FULL OF HIMSELF TO FUNCTION! HE THINKS JUST BECAUSE HE HAS A GOD DAMN DEGREE AND CAN MAKE JUST ABOUT ANYTHING POISONOUS THAT HE'S TOO GOOD TO BE CLASSIFIED AS A CRIMINAL. All that fucker is, is bitter and jealous and cowardly And that's all he'll ever be. I'm not threatened by anyone like that." He sneers. "Physically, mentally, or emotionally."

Arkham studies him for a moment, knowing he's about to hit a sore spot, but doesn't care.

"So you won't mind if I increase his twice a week sessions with Doctor Quinzel to once a day?"

Arkham watched as pure hatred ran through Joker and he smiled internally because he was about to hit a break through with the clown prince.

"Why would I care?" He spits and Arkham smiles a little.

"I was hoping you could answer that."

Joker's eyes brighten and he laughs wildly.

"You think I have feelings for Barbie Quinzel?" He chuckles.

"I see how you act around her, when she's mentioned . . . I also see how Jonathan acts around her—if I didn't know any better I'd say you two had some competition going over her."

"Oh, Doctor Arkham, I assure you," he leans forward so Arkham gets the point. "there is no competition. I could have that broad on her knees for me anytime I wanted. Highly doubt Crane can say that."

"You do realize you've just sexually threatened personnel, right?" Arkham folds his hands and Joker starts counting on his fingers quietly. "What're you doing?"

"Trying to count how many fucks I don't give," He shoots back and Arkham presses his lips together in a thin line.

"I think we're done for the—" A knock on the door interrupts him and he takes a deep breath and stands to open it.

"Hi, I'm so sorry to bother you, I just had a question about Corey Wilson's antidepressant dosage." Doctor Harleen's voice rings through the room and The Joker grins widely.

She notices him over Arkham's shoulder and a blush creeps over her cheeks.

"Thank you for taking my session with him, by the way, I've just been so busy lately and had to catch up on my charting and—"

"—No need to thank me. We're friends, aren't we? Just helping out a coworker, Harleen."

"Doctor, we have a session to get done with." Joker calls and Harleen feels giddy by the sound of the mans voice.

"Our sessions done with for the day." Arkham replies.

"We have an hour long session and we've only been in here twenty minutes." Joker points out and Arkham rolls his eyes.

"I–I can take over if you want me to finish up for you? I understand you have more important things to get to today. Besides, I'm all done on my catching up so it's not a bother." She assures him and he thinks a moment.

"I've been trying to get the reason he doesn't get along with Jonathan Crane out of him. He's dancing around the question like a stripper on a pole."

"I can try to get it out of him." She offers.

"Oh I'm sure you can. He cooperates a hell of a lot more when you're around." He tells her. "You can use my office so you don't have to escort him across the building to yours. I gotta head to the pharmacy wing anyway. Leland's having trouble taking inventory so . . . "

" . . . Okay." Harleen nods.

"Great," he steps aside and let's her in. "Joker, Doctor Quinzel will be taking over the rest of the session. Be on your best behavior." He tells him sternly.

"Oh, I'm always a good boy for Doctor Cher Horowitz." He cuts his eyes at Harleen and she does the same.

"Are you sure you can handle him?" Arkham asks her and she nods.

"Don't worry. Buzz Lightyear doesn't intimidate me." She hisses and Joker sticks his tongue out from behind Arkham.

"Alright, call if you need anything." And with that, the two were left alone.

"Cher Horowitz?" Harleen hit his shoulder and he laughed loudly. "Where did that come from?" She sat on the edge of the desk.

"I don't know you tell me Where Buzz Lightyear came from."

"You have the same color scheme as him." She crossed her arms and he licks his lips to hide a smile. "Where did Cher Horowitz come from?"

"You both have the same bratty attitude." He tells her, getting out of his straight jacket.

"You refuse to answer a simple question and yet I'm the brat?" She raises a brow and he stands, towering over her.

His hands grip her thighs and he pushes her further up onto the desk where she's sitting on the top of it, her legs on either side of his own, her skirt ridden up to the top of her thighs.

"I've already answered that damn question for him." He looks sternly at her, his lips grazing against hers.

"We both know whatever you told him isn't the legitimate reason you hate Crane." She whispers back and he growls.

"I don't wanna talk about it. You know I don't like talking about it."

"J—"

"—I think I wanna go back to my cell now." He moves away from her and she grabs his arm.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm just . . . frustrated, J. I'm really frustrated. I'm overwhelmed I'm—"

"—Overwhelmed? Overwhelmed by what?"

"THIS!" She outbursts, motioning between them. "I–I mean we—what is this?!" She finally asks.

"This again?" He sighs and she squeezes her eyes closed.

"Yes, this again."

"Harleen—"

"—Just answer the damn question so I can write it down and tell Arkham about it so he'll stop being so damn worried about it. The question has come up in every session and I'm tried of trying to learn the truth about it myself, Joker."

"How'd you go from that to what our relationship is, back to that?!"

"Oh so it is a relationship? Because when I asked you about it last time, you said 'let's not worry with labels right now'."

"Well now I'm saying it's a fucking relationship and I hate Crane because he can't fucking see that so he continues to talk up all the shit he wants about how he has a hard on for you every fucking day, not to mention the self-conceited little bitch has always talked down to me, and Dent and everybody else in this damn place like he's above us just because he has a damn education from Harvard or whatever the fuck pristine school for pussies he went to. Well guess what? I have a damn education, too. I have a degree in sending people back to hell when they step outta line and he better say his prayers and count his god damn blessings because I'm this close," he holds his index finger and thumb a little bit a part. "to beating him, and anybody who gets in my fucking way, to death. And if you have anything to say against me doing so then fuck you and the fucking system that has you strung up on their strings like a hooker on meth!" He barks and she stares at him with a hidden smile on her face, her brows raised in shock as he walks away from her and starts pacing. A tiny giggle comes from her throats and he snaps around to her. "The hell are you laughin' at?!" He furrows his brows angrily.

"You're jealous." She says and he looks at her grimly, grinding his teeth.

"What did you just say?"

"Oh, come on, J. It's okay. You're jealous and—"

"—Oh, I'm jealous?" He comes closer very slowly, his face pulled into confusion – thinking he might've misunderstood her.

"You're jealous." She repeats and he feels anger hum through him as he gets closer to her.

"I'm jealous? I'm jealous?" He raises his brows. "I'm Jealou—" he cuts himself off when he back hands her hard enough she topples off Arkham's desk and almost falls into the floor, but catches herself on the edge of it. "I am not jealous." He snarls at her and she tries to keep from crying. "Write that down in your fucking notes." He throws Arkham's family photo at the wall and the glass frame shatters.

She tries to calm down, and just as he grabs her arm harshly, there's a knock on the door that makes them both snap their attention to it.

"Everything alright, Miss Quinzel?" One of the guards asks and she wipes her tears as quickly as she can and clears her throat.

"Everything's alright," she assures them. "The patient had an outburst but he's still restrained and he's calmed down now." She lies.

"Alright, just making sure everything was okay."

"Everything's fine ya bunch of pigs!" He calls out and no one replies.

"Speak for yourself, you jack ass," she seethes, picking his straight jacket off the ground and shoving it into his chest for him to put it back on.

"Oh, come on, baby," he pokes his lip out. "You crossed the line. I had to put you back in your place."

"I crossed the line? Really? I'm the one who crossed the fucking line? Tell that to the god damn bruise that's gonna take up half my face." She slams her notebooks shut and he groans.

"That's the first time that's—"

"—Sixth. It's the sixth time that's fucking happened."

"And you've had the opportunity and the power to walk away and you haven't. So either you're desperate or crazier than I thought."

"I am not crazy." She grits through her teeth.

"Now you know how I feel when you accuse me of being jealous. Ain't fun, is it?"

"Fuck you," she quips.

"You have. More times than I can count."

"Well, no more of that." She informs him and he raises his brows.

"Oh, really now?"

"You have two hands you have no problem beating me with, so it should be no problem to beat your meat with them. Should it?" She cocks her head, gathering her stuff in her arms.

"Oh, I don't masturbate. I have girls in here who have no problem getting me off when you don't."

Now it's Harleen who turns to face him slowly, her eyes cut, her jaw tight.

"Kidding, kidding." He holds his hands up in surrender. "Now who's jealous?"

"Can you hurry up and put that back on? I have a session with Jonathan Crane to get to." She spits and he traps her between him and the wall.

"Watch it," he warns her.

She suddenly grabs him roughly through his Arkham pants and he breaths out painfully, almost doubling over.

"Hit me like that again, and I swear I will have you on your knees, begging for forgiveness because I will make your stay here a living hell. I'm your only outlet to outside resources. I'm in control of how often you 'accidentally' escape, remember that. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Puddin'." She growls at him, her grip getting tighter and tighter to the point where he can't form words to speak.

"Deal," he barely whispers and she lets him go. He takes deep breaths of relief and she steps to the door.

"Get that on," she nods to the straight jacket. "I'm about to go tell Arkham you just don't like Crane because he's too much for your liking."

"Deal." J tries to keep the nauseating feeling in his stomach from surfacing. He winces, getting back into the jacket and Harleen buckles it for him.

"Well, you pissed me off." She finishes up and he turns to her, catching his breath.

"That's my girl." He nods, kissing her. "Emphasis on 'my'." He adds and she nods. "Meaning—"

"—If that creep looks anywhere on my body other than my eyes, come across my desk and staple his prick to his thigh."

"I can't tell if it's pride I'm feeling, or just my left nut throbbing, but I've taught you so well."

"Yeah, yeah, Casanova. Off to your cell you go." She opens the door and he walks out and the guard go to escort him back to his cell.

"Oh, doc?" He looks back at her and they stop leading him so she can respond to him.

"Yes, Mister J?" She asks and he grins.

"Make sure the staples are heavy duty. Not the flimsy shit."