don't stand so close to me

[attending_physician]

In a perfect world, Harleen would have already gone home, but since she's living here, she's been stuck in a never-ending staff meeting for the last two hours.

She scrubs a hand over her face, shuffling toward her office. There's paperwork she needs to get caught up on, but right now all she wants is to get her purse and go home. Go home and have a strong drink. Yeah, that sounds good. The paperwork will still be there tomorrow.

If she were less exhausted, she might notice that her office isn't locked anymore. As it is, she turns the knob and opens the door.

Comments

[manofmyword]

Someone is sitting on the floor behind her desk, leaning against it, a folder open in his lap. He doesn't look up or turn around when she walks in, but she might perhaps recognize him by the greenish tinge in his brown hair.

[attending_physician]

Harleen stumbles to a halt.

(The closest button to alert the orderlies is under the lip of her desk, but that means getting a lot closer to him. There's another, just down the hall, but that means putting her back to him.

Neither option sounds particularly smart.)

She should keep her mouth shut, she should back away, she should go find a guard--

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she whispers.

(She has never been good with 'should.')

[manofmyword]

"Reading," he says, bright and unconcerned, and flips the page. "Fascinating stuff."

[attending_physician]

"How did you get in here?"

She wants to be more angry than afraid; she's not sure she succeeds.

"How did you get out of your cell?"

Is somebody else dead somewhere is what she means.

[manofmyword]

"Honey, we talked about this."

He does look up, now, twisting around so that his eyes just clear the top of her desk and he can look up at her past the scattering of paperwork.

"It wasn't difficult."

[attending_physician]

There's a cup of office supplies on her desk--pens in multiple colors, pencils, markers, and one pair of scissors. At the moment, it's closer to Harleen than it is to him. She deliberately doesn't look at it.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

[manofmyword]

"Mm-hm," he chirps, closing the folder and holding it up so she can see. It's his, of course.

"I do too use guns, y'know. Not," he waves the folder in an explanatory circle, "usually, but I do." He taps it against his knee to neaten it and then reaches up and back without looking to put it on her desk. "And I would definitely fuck you."

[attending_physician]

He read her notes.

He read her goddamn notes.

"Well," she manages, voice tight.

"That's enlightening."

[manofmyword]

He snorts.

"You're not mad, are you?"

[attending_physician]

"You know what? I really am."

[manofmyword]

"Huh," he says thoughtfully, in a tone of genuine (if mild) surprise.

"Why?"

[attending_physician]

"I don't like people touching my things," she admits.

[manofmyword]

"Oh."

A beat.

"I do," he offers.

[attending_physician]

"Okay."

Any comment about touching his things seems counterproductive at best.

"Are you done here?"

[manofmyword]

He tilts his head back and forth in that thoughtful way of his, then nods.

"Yeah, I'm good." Using her chair to haul himself to his feet, he turns back and grins at her. "Are you gonna yell at me and call the boys to haul me away, or can I go now?"

[attending_physician]

"I don't think we need to involve the guards with this, not if you're willing to go quietly."

Harleen shifts her weight, keeps herself balanced lightly on her toes. (This seems entirely too easy.)

[manofmyword]

The Joker spreads his hands.

"Sure I am," he says. It's hard to tell when the corner of his mouth turns up slightly, but it does. "Just tell me where you want me."

[attending_physician]

"Why don't you come out from behind the desk, for starters."

Her office isn't exactly spacious. She takes a step to her left; it'll put her closer to him temporarily, but it will also mean he can get past her and out the door first.

[manofmyword]

He does, and he very carefully and very obviously stays out of her personal space as he keeps going past her toward the door.

[attending_physician]

She opens her mouth to thank him before she stops herself; her hand curls sharply into a fist, then relaxes.

"Okay," she murmurs.

"Now let's get you back to your room."

[manofmyword]

"Sure," he chirps, grinning over his shoulder at her.

[attending_physician]

Harleen gives some serious thought to grabbing the scissors before she follows him out. Ultimately, she decides introducing weapons into the mix is not particularly smart.

She follows him out, pulling the door shut (and double checking the lock).

[manofmyword]

The lock will live to be picked another day.

The Joker rubs his hands down the sides of his Arkham jumpsuit, rather as though he'd love to have some pockets to stuff them into, and then turns jauntily down the hall toward his cell block.

[attending_physician]

Harleen will have a talk with maintenance about installing a deadbolt.

She follows him, off to the side and a little behind (not quite close enough to reach).



"So, before you bring it up during our next session, did you have a look at anyone else's file?"

[manofmyword]

"Nah, why would I? I don't care what you think of them," he says without turning around.

[attending_physician]

She smirks, shaking her head.

"Just making sure."

[manofmyword]

He giggles softly; it still echoes in the quiet hall.



"Tell me," he murmurs, hands clasped behind him.

"Did you think I was there to kill you?"

[attending_physician]

She thinks carefully for a moment.




"No," she says.

"...not specifically."

[manofmyword]

Snort.

"I did tell you," he reminds her.

"Actually..."

The word trails off; he doesn't add to it.

[attending_physician]

"I know.

But people change their minds about things all the time."

Taking too much for granted doesn't pay in her line of work.

Just look at Larson.

"You gonna finish that thought?"

[manofmyword]

"Mm."

He stops; turns; smiles. Beckons.

"C'mere."

[attending_physician]

Harleen eyes the gap between them.




"Why?"

[manofmyword]

"I wanna show you something," he says, blinking innocently and turning up empty palms.

[attending_physician]

Like it's the first time she's heard that line before.

She takes one step closer to him and folds her arms.

[manofmyword]

He laughs, shakes his head, beckons again.

"No, not like that, c'mon."

[attending_physician]

Fuck it. It's late and she's really fucking tired.


The next step she takes is almost comically large; it's also enough to put her right inside his personal space.

"Now what?"

[manofmyword]

His hands settle onto her shoulders; he squeezes, then lets go.

"That," he says.

That he really doesn't want to kill her; that he's not magical, not the Devil come to life, that he can touch her without the world ending.

"Now c'mon, let's get me tucked in before somebody notices I'm gone and gets all upset. Mm?" He offers her a hand.

[attending_physician]

She can't help jumping when he touches her.

(Doctor-patient contact is discouraged, for the safety of both parties.

She tells herself that it's just her adherence to the rules that makes this awkward and nothing to do with who he is or anything he's ever said.)


She looks down at his hand like it's a grenade about to go off.

"Yeah, fine.

Okay."

She takes his hand.

[manofmyword]

He smiles again, brightly, and turns back down the hall.

Somehow they make it all the way to his cell, holding hands like strolling schoolgirls, without getting caught. The Joker breaks back into his cell and then, cheerful as you please, hands over the bent paperclip he used to do it.

The paperclip is from her office. However he got out in the first place, it wasn't like that.

"G'night, hon," he murmurs, and steps inside.

[attending_physician]

"Good night."

Harleen shuts the door after him, checks the locks three times.

She twirls the paperclip between her fingers all the way back to her office.