No Laughing Matter

Reminence

I woke up as light leaked in between the two curtains. I stretched and noticed I was still at Wayne Manor. I looked beside me. Bruce was fast asleep. He's so cute, I thought to myself. Mistah J would have an aneurysm knowing I was this close to the Bats and didn't kill him. But he'd be pissed if I killed him, and he didn't. I sat there in deep thought about J. He's probably going to have a search party out for me. I peeled the covers off of me, got up, and walked downstairs. I walked around for what seem like a good hour looking for the kitchen. When I finally found it, Alfred was sitting at a table, drinking tea and reading the newspaper.
"Good Morning, Ms. Quinn," He set his tea cup down, "You made the paper." He handed it to me. I grabbed it and a classified ad caught my eyes.
  "Wanted! Any information on the whereabouts of Harley Quinn. Reward." Followed by the contact number. It was J's. I handed the newspaper back over to Alfred.
"What have I gotten myself in to..."  I shook my head as I sat down at the table. Alfred folded the newspaper and looked at me.
"Well. I know it's not my place to say anything, Ms. Quinn, but... From what Master Wayne has told me about the Joker... It doesn't seem like it's the best environment for you." As I was about to reply, Bruce walked in. He threw a folder down in front of me.
"What's this?" I opened it. It was my psychiatrist folder from Arkham.
"I can get you your old job back. But first, you need to be evaluated and deemed mentally sane." Bruce opened the fridge and poured himself a glass of orange juice.
"What? Really?" I smiled as I looked up at him.
"On one condition..." He took a sip of his juice.
"Anything."
"You stay here." He set the glass down and looked into my eyes. My smile faded.
"But, I can't do that... My Puddin needs me back." I stood up and pushed my chair in.
"Harley..." Bruce stepped in front of me, "Stop. Think about what's best for you. You'd have a place. A job. Food. Clothes."
"But I couldn't see Red. Or Cat. Or any of my friends. Or J..." Tears brimmed in my eyes.
"Please think about it." Bruce pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear, then kissed my forehead. He smiled, half heartedly, then walked out the room. I picked up my file and read through it. My trainer, Dr. Jonathan Crane. He was obsessed with phobias. Wondering what made people stay up at night. He still works there. My clients. Ranging from Edward Nygma. Who was always throwing me riddles to figure him out. Poison Ivy. Who I came to love as my best friend. Then Joker... My Puddin. My Mistah J. I was assigned his case. I remember the first session like it was yesterday....

"State your name." I said as I pulled out my pen and notepad.
"Joker," He smiled with his red stained lips. He was in a straight jacket. I looked up at him as I wrote, "What's yours?"
"Harleen." I answered. I set my pen down and looked into his eyes.
"Do your friends call you Harley?" He smiled at me as he leaned in closer, seeming interested. No one has ever really showed me interest.
"I don't have many friends." I brushed a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
"Well, Harley... You do now." He winked at me.

I was shook out of my flashback by Alfred.
"What?" I asked.
"Tea, dear. Would you like some?" Alfred asked, holding the teapot.
"Yes, please. A splash of milk and two sugar," I sat down again. Bruce walked back in. I looked up at him and he smiled. I smiled back, "Hey, Bats?"
"Yes?" He chuckled.
"When do I go for my evaluation?"