_[ joker / harley ]_
-drabble collection-
therapy

He was drawing on her notepad.

Their sessions had become increasingly more like regular conversation. They talked about politics, the weather—despite his usual lack of actually knowing what it was—amoung other things. The other doctors were beginning to question exactly what kind of difference she would make in this man if all they did was discuss these other things. She would always respond that the fact he could carry on a conversation like that with her, shows that he's improving.

In reality, she had no idea. They'd come to a standstill in the therapy. He would no longer answer questions and she would no longer ask them. He'd ask her personal questions every now and then, but he'd stopped pushing for an answer when she didn't give him one.

"What exactly are you drawing?" she asked him, motioning towards the notepad.

"It's a surprise." He replied, not removing his eyes.

She sighed and settled down in her chair.

"How was your week?" he asked, nonchalantly.

"Uneventful." She replied. "And yours."

"The usual." He said.

She detected a sense of edginess to his voice as he spat the word, usual. This place wasn't a very good one for a man like him. He despised the mundane. Harleen could feel that his lack of privacy was frustrating him. Despite the longing to be the center of attention, he needed his time alone. He might spend hours upon hours locked in a cell, but he was on constant watch.

And his lack of makeup was taking its toll on him. She'd pleaded with her superiors to allow him to wear it, even if it was only for a little while. But they told her that they couldn't permit it. With the apparent progress she believed she was making, they didn't want a relapse of some sort to occur. The makeup would only remind him of what he once was.

Suddenly, he looked up at her, squinting at her through his dark eyes. "Do you ever wish you were someone different than who you are?" he asked bluntly.

Taken aback, she stammered. After going so long without asking her a cryptic question, he springs this one on her. "I suppose everyone does."

He shook his head. "I'm not talking about everyone." He said shortly. "I'm talking about you. Do you ever feel that?"

Harleen swallowed. "Yes. I guess I do."

"Who do you wish you were?" he asked.

"I don't know." She responded. "Something wonderful."

The Joker smacked his lips in distaste. "That's stupid." He told her, looking back at the paper.

Frustrated, she said, "You're the one who asked—"

"You already are something wonderful." He interrupted.

Harleen clamped her mouth shut. She stared at him as he continued his drawing. What was he playing at?

He threw the pen down on the table. "I'm done." He said, looking up at her again, as if nothing else had passed between them. "And I'm ready to leave."

It was new for him to announce his departure. Normally, he allowed the sessions to go on as long as she was willing.

She nodded. A few moments later, security came in to escort him back to his cell. He slid her notepad back to her across the table as the guards asked him to stand. She didn't say a word, nor did she move before he was gone.

There were only two sentences on the paper. One read, "It's not funny anymore."

She frowned. That was why he'd said that. He'd once told her that he only stayed in Arkham because he thought it was amusing. His earlier announcement was telling her that he was ready to leave this place.

The second sentence was at the bottom of the page. It said, "Come with me."

This really came from no where. I was bored, so I started writing. The only thing I had in my head was that the Joker would be drawing/writing instead of Harley taking notes. And this is what came out. It probably came out from my inner Joker/Harley. Not my pre-Harley(Harleen) and the Joker. I'm trying to subdue my Joker/Harley. Turns out she wouldn't be denied. Anyway, I'll update soon. This is becoming a chain of drabbles that are interconnecting. It's not a chapter fic. There's a difference, I suppose.

R&R
It makes me happy!
Katie