God, this is a mess.

That's the best word she has for it. A mess. Harleen had the best intentions when she started down this road. She did. But you know what they say about roads and good intentions.

She truly wanted to help. She's always wanted to help. Maybe that's the worst of it, because she's pretty sure she has been helping. He's improved. He has. The talks they've had... progress has been made. More progress than anyone's ever made with him before. Because she listened to him. Because she cared about him. That's been the key, hasn't it? She's the only one who can help him. She's the only one who will help him. Because she cares. It's her job to care.

But this has passed the point of professionalism, hasn't it? Gone a little off the rails. Even she can admit that. Let's be honest, falling for a patient is bad enough. Acting on it? 'Ethical breach' is putting it mildly. She can't exactly claim a moral high ground here. But she just can't quite convince herself she's wrong. She can't quite back out. It's a little too late to back out now, isn't it?

She's paved this road, but now she's kind of terrified of where it will lead her. But also kind of excited, and that's a problem, isn't it? That's the problem.

Because, bluntly, running away with the Joker is very unlikely to lead good places, is it?

But that's an extreme. Lord, is that an extreme. We are not to 'running away with him' levels, Harleen. But the idea's there in her head, and that in and of itself is kind of a bad sign.

Suffice to say? Harleen was in a bit of a state already when she called you to plead for you to come by because she 'needed to talk to someone'. And that state has not exactly improved by the time you're at her door. She's three pours deep into a bottle of liquor she doesn't even really like and she's definitely not at her most professional.

"Oh hi. Uh, I mean, thanks for coming. I... c'mon in." She steps back to let you in the door, running a hand through her hair. "Sorry for the late call."