The Jokers looked down at Harley curled up on the leather couch beside him her fingers twitching gently a soft smile on her face. He pulled the throw that was draped over them both a little further up on his hips watching her. Her toes pointed and her body went from the comfortable form pressed against his body to tight bow her shoulders and toes flexed hard before she relaxed and awoke falling back to the lounge. "Hey." he said.

"Did I fall asleep?" she said sheepishly running her hands through her hair.

"Yeah." he said. "Was I that bad?"

"No, of course not." she said looking at him. "I always kind of pass out after... after uh-"

"After sex." he said bluntly finishing the sentence she was floundering around.

"Yeah." she said her head falling back to the couch looking at him smiling softly. "So was I good? I've only been with one other person and we were both-"

"You were good Harley." he said. "Really good."

"So were you." she said laying her face against his chest. "Oh my god I just slept with a patient." She said closing her eyes.

"Yeah and I just banged my psychiatrist." he said. "You know I might be crazy but you are a spastic sleeper."

"Oh so I did the uh..."

"Stiff as a board bit." he said. "And spastic fingers."

"The fingers are just a nervous habit." she said. "I used to do it when I was a bored but I have it under control but in my sleep I still do it."

"And what about the rigor mortis?" he said.

"It's a bad dream." she said. "I have it most nights."

"A nightmare about what?" he said.

"The injury that ended my gymnastics career." she said.

"You were a gymnast?" he said.

"Olympic bound." she said. "12 hour practices, crazy Russian coach, strict diet, no friends, the whole nine yards."

"And so you got hurt and had to quit." he said. "And you thought 'yeah i should go be a shrink'."

"No I was 14 years old realizing my career would end at 16 and I'd have no other skill and no idea who I wanted to be. So I threw a tumbling pass, snapped my ankle and after 11 months of rehab I went through puberty and ruined it all."

"Why couldn't you just go back?" he said.

"My ankle was never the same." she said. "Plus boobs mess up you balance like crazy."

"I think they balance you out great." he said kissing the swell of her breast. She closed her eyes sighing softly. "Remind me again how you swung unfilmed, unrecorded sessions?"

"Because the first time I turned off the tape recorder was the first time you started talking to me, or anyone. The only reason I got that many sessions with you up to that point was because I was the only doctor you hadn't attacked."

"You didn't ask me stupid questions." he said.

"And I was pretty." she said.

"Self-centered aren't we?" he said.

"You said it first." she said. "You said it to me. It was one of the first things you said. You said 'It's Joker not . And you're pretty you know that?' And then you didn't talk for another two sessions."

"You remember that?" he said.

"It was the first time I heard you talk to me." she said. "I'm the only one who can get you to talk at all which is the only reason I haven't been fired."

"If they want to fire you so much why'd they give you such a nice office?" he said looking around at the dark wood and leather furniture.

"Oh god this isn't my office." she said. "I just said we needed a less clinical setting to get you to really open up."

"I think you're the one that opened up." he said.

"Don't be gross!" she said. "I have to use the last half hour of this session writing psychological bullshit to convince them of more 5 hour sessions like this."

"So you do know all this stuff is bullshit?" he said. "Knew it."

"No it can help some people but..."

"But some of us are beyond help." he said.

"That's not what I was going to say." she said looking up at him. "I wasn't. I personally don't think you need help."

"You don't think I'm crazy?" he said.

"I think we're all crazy." she said. "We all just open about it differently. And we deal with it in different ways. I think there are people much crazier then me who hide it much better. And people crazier then you who channel it differently. I just think you function very well right now. People around you may not agree but look at you. You made a ridiculous amount of money, brought Gotham to its knees and came out of it all... pretty good for wear."

"And they think I'm the crazy one." he said looking at her. "Maybe I should be the one on the other side of the desk next time." She grinned sitting up pulling her blouse from the floor.

"Come on." she said. "We have to make up a breakthrough. ANd I am going to stop you before you make an awful joke about what you broke through."

"Wasn't going to." he said. "Considering I wasn't the first one. Who was your first?"

"My crazy Russian coach." she said shimming back into her skirt.

"What?" he said nearly rocketing up off the leather couch. She grinned at him over her shoulder.

"I'm kidding." she said smiling widely. "But the look on your face was priceless." She sat next to him pulling her shoes on she said giggling.

"You have a pretty laugh." he said and she turned to look at him. "And a nice smile." He ran his hand over her cheek.

"I like your smile too." she said reaching for his cheek but his hand left her face catching her wrist in a iron grip.

"Don't touch them." he said his voice cold.

"I won't." she said, feeling close to whimpering. "I won't, I'm sorry."

"Good girl." he said releasing her. "How about we write about my break through with physical boundaries. Say I asserted my feelings or something." She nods walking back to the desk scribbling on his folder.

"You're uhm... You're getting your face paint back today. Or tomorrow depending on how the orderlies are feeling."

"Really?" he said looking up. "How'd you swing that?"

"Some bull about letting you to wear your outer mask while removing the inner one. It's non-toxic paint and you can only use sponges to apply it but you can't have a mirror because you could use the glass to..."

"Stab someone?" he said.

"I thought you'd get more creative then that." she said. "Stabbing is so beneath you."

"Are you encouraging me towards-" he leans over reading some of the old notes on his file. "Violent and sporadic fits?"

"What if I am Mr.J?" she said quirking an eyebrow.

"Mr. J?" he said. "A bit formal don't you think? Should I start calling you Dr. Quinzel?

"No." she said. "Just call me Harley."