A week had past since their last meeting. Harley sighed arranging her bouquet of roses absently. She looked around her small office, she kept it plain not wanting to make it to comfortable, after all this was work. A small knock came before the door swung open. "Dr. Quinzell?" A smooth tenor inquired.

Looking up from her roses she saw Arkham's head of psychiatry, Dr. Jonathon Crane. Her smile faulted. Although she met him a few times she almost felt like a child being caught red handed. "Uh, yea Dr. Crane. Can I help you?"

The director walked through the door, "I would like to discuss The Joker's course of treatment with you." His hands squared the chair in front of Harleen's desk firmly. Dr. Crane was a terrified man. His black eyes held a note of what Harleen had decided was sadism. Anyone he talked to felt like an insect under examination. His pomador hairstyle was never out of place. The impeccable black suit he wore hid well defined muscles wrapping like rope around his bones.

Harleen squirmed suddenly uneasy. "Sure Doctor-"

"Please, call me Jonathon." He interrupted her mid-sentence. Perfect white teeth flashed in what would have been a lady killing smile if Harleen was interested.

Nodding the blond motioned to the chair as she sank into her own. "Doc- Jonathon," She corrected. "How can I help?" She pulled out the file and handed it to him.

His eyes skimmed over the information, notes and even the art projects that the petit woman has him do. "This is excellent work Doctor, tell me about the man himself."

Harleen found herself stroking the roses in front of her. "He's an incredible case. The sociopathic tendencies he displays are subtle, almost not noticeable to the untrained eye. He has the ability to compartmentalize his emotions, thoughts to the point were I'm not sure if he was even the same person sometimes. All of his artwork is almost lonely, like his world is desolate and..." pausing she cleared her throat. "Entirely imagined." She shifted uncomfortably breaking eye contacted with her boss.

"Interesting. You are the first psychiatrist who has made any progress with him." Jonathon handed the file back to its owner. "He was released to today." He informed her. "I need to know what his plans are, who he is closed to, what does he care most about."

"Jonathon. I don't know that information. He mentioned having a buddy. But that's all I know."

The brunette man scoffed, "Surely you know something. Just tell me what you know." He suddenly leaned forward making the blonde feel like he was invading her space.

"Dr. Crane, if I had that information it would be in my notes. The Joker didn't discuss that." She tried to sound pointed.

Dr. Crane's eyes narrowed, "Understood." His voice held a hidden venom that made The blonde shiver. "I also understand that you sing at a club."

The blond nodded slowly. "I do, The Dealer's Hand." She supplied growing increasingly wary. "Every Weekend."

Jonathon stood abruptly. "Maybe I'll stop by to see you perform." Turning on his heel he waved a good bye and left.

Blue eyes turned to the clock suddenly shaking from the interaction. How could such a soft spoken man be to intimidating. Harleen snatched her belongings and quickly left her office glancing back at the flowers on her desk. Shaking her head she closed the door locking it behind her.

The night sky grew darker, a wide smile cracked J's pale face. He smoothed his suit jacket. Staring out the window of the second floor suite. It had been to long since he had been in his own suite, his businesses had been flourishing thanks to his right hand. Rolling his head J left the room and jaunted down the stairs only to be stopped by several of his men saying they were glad to see him. The Joker slapped them on the back and continued down. He surveyed the dimly lit room, it was full as usual, a piano playing softly adding to the lull of low voices in the intimate setting.

J maneuvered his way to the bar taking his normal seat in the middle. "Hey Boss, glad to have you back." Took his glass of whiskey and raised it to the barkeep.

"Where's the entertainment Felix?" J asked watching the stage, raising the glass to his lips.

"Backstage, she'll be out any minute. But Boss, keep an eye out there may be trouble." The Joker followed the man's gaze where it fell on a tall well muscled man his face impassive as he swirled a glass of the darkest wine the bar offered.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" His hazel eyes glued to the suspect.

"I'm not sure. But I don't trust it Boss. I've canceled all correspondence for the night." Felix's open plan hit the bar and drew The Joker's attention to the stage.

His heart stopped as a petit blonde took the stage her hair was curled and the ends spotted red and black tips. J's breath hitched as he took in the entire scene. A black dress clung to the singer's curves the red diamond accents came diagonally across her breast drawing his attention, it was obvious a slit stopped mid thigh, exposing a ruby stiletto.

"Ain't She something?" Felix bragged. "I hired herself, Boss."

The Joker nodded, her plum painted lips smiled coyly and her hooded blue eyes could seduce any man she wanted. The Joker sat and listened as she started to sing. Her voice could easily be mistaken for a 1950's artist. His whiskey swirled absently, his attention was wholly on the woman in front of him, wishing she was singing just for him.

The set came to a close and the singer left the stage walking towards he bar. "Let me introduce you to her." Felix waved the woman over.

"No need." J stood and left the bar finding a vantage point to watch the floor. His smile fell as he noticed the brunette man sauntering over to intercept his singer. Scowling he reached for the phone sending out the alert to be watchful over the singer's chosen company.

Dr. Crane sat in the darkest corner of the small club. This club was a facade he knew that. He would have never stepped foot in here if it hadn't have been for the curvy woman on the stage, he was sure she held the information he required. His eyes never left the singer, her voice was addicting. It disgusted him. Jonathon had been trying to get his hands on the Joker for sometime. During his incarceration he could never make his move, he wanted to pick the man apart, test his serum on the one man it would fail on, if it affected The Joker he was sure it would affect the Bat as well. He was pushing the edge of science trying to find how the brain processed fear most effectively. Could fear break through even the most constrained compartments in the most fractured mind?

Jonathon contemplated as he straightened his suit jacket. Calculating the best course intercept his employee. "Dr. Quinzell." He called reaching for her shoulder. His firm grip making her jump.

"Uh, Doc- Jonathon. What are you doing here?" Harley's throat tightened. This man has been becoming far to interested in her for her liking.

"I told you I would come see you perform." He deadpanned. His black state to intent and focused. Harley was like a deer in headlights about to witness her own death. The blonde was sure of it as she nodded slowly to her boss.

"Thanks." She tried to back away turning towards Felix and the bar, her eyes searching for a way out. She started to make her way towards the bar acutely aware that Dr. Crane was behind her.

Harley took her place in the middle of the bar. Felix appeared holding several emerald roses. "Beautiful as always Harley." Smiling softly she took the roses and admired them. The blue eyed woman almost forgot the dread she felt around Dr. Crane who cleared his throat. Snapping out of her daydream she waved to the seat next to her.

Sinking onto the bar stool Jonathon eyed the roses. "Who's the lucky man?"

Harley imagined the man was trying to be playful but it was lost on her. "I don't know." She told him looking up. Gently placing the flowers on the counter she looked up at him. "How can I help you Dr. Crane?"

Felix listened to the small talk the man tried to make with his singer. Glancing up he saw the boss looking down on his usual seat his face stoney with murder in his eyes. Felix shook his head. "This isn't good." He muttered to one of the crewmen. "Keep an eye on them. Follow him." His voice tumbled low in his chest speaking so only the man he was talking to could hear, with a brief nod the man disappeared into the crowd and reappeared several seats from Harley.

The Joker watching as Harley received a small bouquet her face lit up as she admired them almost hugging them to her chest. The man next to her soured his mood. Dr. Crane, head of psychiatry at Arkham Asylum sat next to his favorite blonde.

His intense Hazel eyes stared intently at the Doctor, noting how Crane seemed to lean closer to the petite female. His stature dwarfing her. The large bald man knocked in the counter in front of her motioning for her to leave. His eyes flicked to the man who nodded inclined his chin at The Joker.

From his vantage point he could see his entire club. It was small, cozy, more importantly, easily defendable. J watched as Dr. Quinzell took her flowers and left, meeting one of his men at the door who walked her out. Dr. Crane followed a few minutes later and another one of his men followed suit. He sauntered out of the room and his muscles tense ready to fight.

J knew there was something wrong with his head, but that guy was definitely not there as well. Taking his seat at the bar. He found Felix was next to him in an instant. "He was just talking to her." The stocky man informed the boss. "She looked uncomfortable. She was grateful for the short shift." J nodded as the man spoke.

Harley laughed as one of the bouncers walked her to her car. It had been established when she first was hired she would have an escort to her car, Gotham was a dangerous place Felix liked to remind her.

Pulling off her heels she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. Kicking the door shut Harley hummed as she set the flowers in her vase discarding the half dead ones. Humming to herself she changed quickly into her painting clothes before sitting down at her canvas.

Jonathon parked on the opposite of the street several doors down. He watched Dr. Quinzell walk into her building. Several lights flicked on and off in various rooms. Getting out of the car he stalked his way towards the building. His thoughts whipped through his mind as it raced with excitement. He quieted his footfalls as he padded through the hallway. He eased the door open and stood in the 2 bedroom apartment. He quickly pulled out a rag and a bottle of clear liquid. Padding through the apartment he took in everything looking for anything that may have hinted that the Joker was somewhere nearby.

He stood directly behind the blonde reaching out he covered her mouth with the damp cloth, muffling a scream. He held her body close as she struggled before the drug took over. He tucked the cloth into his pocket before lifting her in his arms and leaving the apartment. He placed the unconscious woman in the back seat closing the door quickly. He reclined the seat as a a black charger stroller passed. Waiting briefly to make sure his leave was undetected the man started his car and took off towards Arkham.

A stone building came into view it was a block from the asylum, the doctor didn't dare take her to his full facility in the catacombs to much of a risk of exposing his work should she escape, which he didn't foresee. Pulling into the small garage the doctor handed the woman to a shaking man. He controlled his men through fear. He didn't need or want to respect them when he could control them.

The woman was deposited on the the floor in a small room. The windows were boarded so know light could seep in and with a click the door was locked.

Harleen woke up with a pounding headache the only light she saw was coming from the crack under the door. Her head spun as she attempted to stand, the floor lurched below her as she reached for the light. Her fingers found the cool wood of a door. Quickly she found the handle and pushed. The door was locked. She grasped the small knob with both hands and shook. Her hands trembled as she withdrew them only to slam them on the door demanding her release. Her body shook as the realization sunk in that she was stuck, she had been kidnapped. Doubling her efforts Harleen screamed as she slammed her fist on the door. Only when she had lost her voice did she empty the contents of her stomach on the floor and curl in on her self in the corner farthest from the light.