Another day in Arkham. The Joker tossed his hair out of his eyes as he lay on the cot provided by the asylum. He would have used his hands, but as of now they were strapped in tightly in his straight jacket. Of course he could get out of it if he wanted to, but he quite enjoyed the persona it amplified, as well as the anxious looks of passer-bys. ‘Boy that one’s a loon! Better stay away from him!’ He bet they’d remark to themselves. A chuckle escaped his lips. He could see it on their faces. He liked the trepidation. It was a form of respect in his world. Quite liked his solitude as well. He looked out of his cell with half-lidded eyes, following the movements of the boring employees living their boring lifestyles in their boring lab coats and standard issue glasses. It was like a herd of sheep or something. He wondered why the Bat couldn’t see that these people practically asked to be slaughtered. Suddenly, something caught the Joker’s eye. Much different from the rest of the graying flock was a head full of brilliant blonde hair. Eyes still half-lidded, he leaned slightly forward on his cot wondering what look of uneasiness would pass over her blue eyes as she caught sight of Gotham’s most wanted.
A smile crept on his face in anticipation. She glanced his way and their eyes locked. What was this he saw? Her look was rather unusual; it caused something animalistic to stir in his stomach. No fear in those clear blue eyes, only something akin to the look on his face when he pulled one over on the Batman. Was it… accomplishment? Perhaps he would stall breaking out of the joint while this prospect held his interest. What was she anyway, a visiting student from Gotham U? Her heels clicked as she walked in the direction of his cell. Stopping in front of the glass, she pulled down the hem of her tight skirt and straightened her glasses. “Mr. Joker, I’ll be your psychiatrist today, Dr. Harleen Quinzel. The Joker’s smile grew wide, “AHAHAHA OH oh HE HE HA HA” He burst into laughter; this was too much. Who would pull this one on him, Ozzie? Someone was stealing his shtick! His laughter stopped abruptly as he approached the glass, “Who sent you doll face? Hm?” He questioned with a smile. She gulped as she took in the pale flesh that encased his lithe body, the pronounced nose and chin, the defined face and upper body. That green hair, the shade of well-watered grass, and the way his red lips framed his smile. She wondered what chemicals created these wonderful hues. The Joker caught her gawking and smirked. He quite liked the admiration, he knew he was well deserving. She snapped out of her daze and coughed, “Mr. Joker, I’m serious.” Intrigue filled the Joker’s mind as he leaned in closer, “Well Doctor Harleen, Why. So. Serious?”
Another take on the molding of Harleen to Harley : )