Harleen sat quietly in her office as she waited for her patient. She was feeling particularly bitter and depressed, like it always happened on that specific time of the year.

Her birthday. Tomorrow was her birthday.

Memories from a younger Harleen flooded her mind, a sad dark blond haired girl locked up in her room with a cupcake she had bought for herself sitting lamely on her bedside table, twirling a candle between her fingers as she stared absentmindedly at a letter, laying open on the pink sheets that covered her bed.

We won't be able to make it, sweetheart. Maybe next year if we're not traveling. Have 100 dollars and get yourself something nice and pretty.
Love,
Mom & Dad

The doctor sighed and rubbed her eyes. Of course she spent the night awake, rolling on her bed as she tried to sleep, unsuccessfully. She had probably drank five cups of coffee, the caffeine was lingering on her system, keeping her alert, barely.

But she was tired. And bitter. And depressed.

A knock on the door brought her back to reality and she sat up straight, putting on her glasses and her best smile for the clown that was escorted into her office.

As soon as the door was closed by the guards, Harleen got up and took his straight jacket off, her fingers running down his neck and over a fresh scratch on his pale skin.

"I had an... incident with the plant lady." he smirked cheekily at her and rubbed his neck.

"Oh, I see." said Harleen as she circled the table and sat across from him, not even interested in asking what had happened between him and Ivy. He noticed her indifference and frowned.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked as he placed his hands on the table, purposely keeping them close to hers, fingers almost brushing.

Harleen shook her head, opened her notepad and wrote the date, over and over again.

J narrowed his eyes at her and grabbed her pen. For a moment Harleen was startled, hoping he wouldn't use it to stab her but as soon the clown pulled the notepad closer to himself, she sighed with relief. Instead, he started doodling and when he was finished, he handed it back to Harleen.

She smiled faintly as her finger traced the quick drawing her patient had just made. A cute, goofy doodle of herself, a little Harleen with her hair pulled up on pigtails.

"I think you would look really pretty with your hair like that." he said, fighting the urge to run his fingers through her hair... and strangle her for making him say the word pretty. But then, he watched her smile disappear as she turned the notepad upside down, the drawing out of sight.

"Are you mad at me?" she heard him ask. Harleen looked up and he pouted, throwing those puppy eyes at her, the ones that had her wrapped around his finger.

"No. It's just that I–" she trailed off, a lump on her throat making it hard to speak. "It doesn't matter. Let's start, Mr. J."

The clown wasn't buying it and being the stubborn, curious psychopath he was, he got up and crawled on top of the table, sitting down on top of her papers, notes and binders, a mischevious grin on his lips.

"I am not moving until you tell me what's wrong."

Harleen bit her lip awkwardly and sighed in resignation. She hated bringing the subject up and talking about it with her patient seemed like a terrible idea. But maybe, confiding him with something about her own past would make him confident to trust her with a piece of his own history.

"Okay, but it's really lame." she started. J placed his elbows on his legs, face cupped by his hands. He looked so much like a little boy about to hear the most fascinating fairy tale.

"Tomorrow is my birthday. I used to look forward to it every single year, hoping my parents would be able to make it. I dreamed about getting a surprise party and being tricked by my parents so I wouldn't find out. But that surprise party never came. I always hoped to wake up to find flowers on my bedroom, a bunch of balloons flying around, the smell of baking cake coming from the kitchen. Cards. Maybe a teddy bear. Anything. My sister was always too busy to remember and when she did it was too late. When my grandpa died, the only person who cared about my birthday, I just stopped–" Harleen cleared her throat and forced a smile. "I know it is such a tiny, insignificant date but, it used to be important for me, you know?"

The Joker got serious and straightened his back, his hands reaching over to touch her cheeks. "You were right. It's so lame."

Harleen frowned and got up furious. "Get off the table, Joker." she warned him. "I don't know why I even bother telling you this. Why would you care?"

J got off the metallic table and chuckled, walking slowly behind her so he could place his large hands on her shoulders. She flinched but made no attempt to move.

"Don't take me wrong, sweets. But birthdays are so overrated." he said as he moved his hands up and down her arms, "I mean, what's the point on celebrating you're a day closer to your death? Celebrating you're getting wrinkles?"

Harleen's eyes felt watery and she was grateful she was standing facing away from him. "Of course you wouldn't understand." she whispered, more to herself than to him. The doctor grabbed the straight jacket and wrapped it around him, avoiding eye contact with J.

"I'll see you tomorrow. I don't feel well. " she said, opening the door and letting the guards in, "Good afternoon, Mr. J."

The Joker frowned but didn't protest as he was carried away from her office. When the door was shut, Harleen broke down sobbing.

•••

Beep
Beep
Beep
Beep

"Stupid clock." Harleen groaned and knocked down the alarm clock and grimaced at the sound of it breaking. "Great, now I need to buy a new one." she said to herself as she threw the covers away from her tired body.

She rubbed her eyes and looked around her room, something felt out of place. Harleen reached for her glasses and as she put them on, she saw colors out of the corner of her eye.

A bouquet of colorful gerberas stood happily on a pink vase at her right nightstand. She had to shut her eyes tight and open them again to be sure she wasn't dreaming. She wasn't, the flowers felt as real as the rumbling on her stomach. Harleen giggled cheerfully as she took the card laying next to the bouquet, too happy to even worry or care for how the hell did the flowers ended up on her room. 

Happy "you're one day closer to you death" to my beautiful doctor. Those wrinkles look great on that gorgeous face of yours.

Love,

-J

Harleen brought a hand to her mouth, a single tear of happiness rolling down her cheek and landing on top of the card. She got up, took a shower, dressed as fast as she could and practically stormed out of her apartment, heading for Arkham. Once there, nothing felt different, but the butterflies inside her stomach making her smile as she walked quietly towards her office.

Nothing would have prepared her for what she saw once she opened the door. The room was flooded with pink and blue balloons. There was not a single corner that wasn't occupied by them. She laughed loudly as she managed to find her desk and there, a three layered chocolate cake waited for her. 

A knock on the door was heard and she stumbled, trying to reach it. The usual guards pushed the Joker inside, looking at each other with puzzled eyes. Without a word they left them, patient and doctor staring at each other. 

"You did this!" Harleen squealed, throwing her arms around him, "How did you do this? It's amazing!"

"I have my influences, kitten." The Joker laughed warmly. "And you know, clowns are always up for a good birthday party."

'And I would do anything for you. Just to see you smile.' he thought, but he would never say it out loud.

•••

And now, a fluffy dedicatory for a fluffy chapter.

🎂

This chapter is an early present for pieceofcupcake whose birthday is coming up soon!
Thanks friend and partner in crime. Happy "You're getting closer to your death" and "those wrinkles look huge!"

🎂