Excerpt: Folie à Deux

For as long as she could remember, Harleen had always been fascinated with the criminal mind. Even as a young child, her favorite characters were always the "bad guys." They were just so much more interesting that the heroes. As she saw it, the rogues were always the ones with the complicated and fascinating back stories, the adventureous ones. The ones to push the envelope.

As they proceeded down the hallway, Dr. Crane continuing his speech, Harleen was careful to be very inscrutinous as she glanced into the cells. She didn't want to make eye contact, or indeed even be noticed that she was taking in as much detail as she possibly could. The whistling slowly grew louder as they went forward.

As they neared the end of the cell hall, headed toward the session rooms, they finally passed the cell that the nonharmonic, random whistling was coming from. Harleen glanced inconspicuously to the side, then stuttered to a stop. She could not help but look.

The Joker.

He stood leaning against the far wall of his cell, arms crossed and head bowed. His whistling slowed as he slowly raised his head. Dark rimmed eyes glanced up through dark green hair, and before she could look away, he locked gaze with her.

It was as though she felt a bolt of electricity travel up her spine, followed immediately by a thrill of fear. After a brief second that felt like an eternity, she tore her gaze away. Eyes wide, she marched determinedly forward. Dr. Crane was still talking, he had not noticed her slight twitch. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the Joker smirk.

Harleen's heart felt as thought it was beating out of her chest. Get a grip! she mentally scolded herself. She squeezed her eyelids shut for a moment, clenching one of her fists. Willing her pulse to return to normal.