i'm not the killing type, i'm not...

[attending_physician]

Technically, there are request forms that are supposed to be filed if doctors want to get their hands on security footage.

But Harleen has been here long enough and made enough friends on the staff that getting some time to herself with the security recordings is much, much easier.

(She's a doctor, after all. It's not as if she could want them for anything sinister.)



Knowing that the man she's looking for is on the midnight shift narrows her search. She cycles through the DVDs methodically, fast forwarding until a guard approaches the Joker's door, pushing play to see if he enters.

Comments

[manofmyword]

The Joker is sleeping peacefully when the guard enters his cell.

There is no sound on the recording.

The guard grabs his shoulder, shakes it roughly, pins it to the narrow bed; the Joker blinks awake, smiles up at him with sleepy, childlike calm. He doesn't seem to approve. These kinds of people do prefer to be taken seriously.

A short conversation ensues. The Joker is obviously trying to talk his way out of it, placating gestures, an earnest expression; the guard's face is turned down toward him, not visible, but the line of his shoulders gets angrier and angrier. His movements are short, sharp, vicious. The Joker's are slow; nonthreatening.

There is a moment, just one, where the Joker turns his face away and his expression turns... thoughtful. Not cold, exactly, not calculating, but pensive. Considering.

Then he looks back up at the guard, peeking between his lashes, and smiles slightly. The guard yanks the blanket off him, throwing it to the floor. The Joker starts unbuttoning his jumpsuit, talking as he does it; the guard cracks him across the face, and he licks his lips once and then shuts his mouth.