Despite the length of Joker and Harley's relationship, it still made all of the thugs uncomfortable to see such a display around them. Typically their boss kept their bedroom affections separate from his workplace and he usually didn't tolerate much affection from his woman while he was around the rest. Their discomfort didn't go unnoticed by Joker as Harley climbed into his lap and kept peppering him with kisses, in fact, it managed to heighten Joker's own discomfort with the situation and he stood up. Having the effect of letting Harley drop from his lap to catch herself as he put his cup to his lips as if to barricade them from Harley as he moved to a folding metal table where there were a few brown file boxes waiting for him. Setting his steaming cup of coffee down beside it Joker took off the lid and dropped it to the floor with a loud hollow thunk, even in its light form, and began to pull out files and papers. Shuffling through a couple files briefly as he finished one cup and took another of his cups, muttering to himself as he did so. Eventually, he rolled the rubber bands off of a rolled up group of blueprints and unrolled them. Glancing around for objects to weigh down each of the springy corners he resulted to using his cup in one corner while Jonny and Keith came forward with loose bricks from the rubble on the floor. It was a blueprint of Arkham Asylum, and he stood hunched over it as his dark green eyes looked it over. Time passed as he located pens and drew and circled and marked up the paper, the one corner weighted down by his cup repeatedly being let loose as he drank and was eventually replaced with another piece of brick when he went for his third cup. It was around this time that the other men got back with wooden trunks and bags of materials from a hardware store, rowdy as ever, and the front room became a full blown operation headquarters. The agitation on Joker's face could have soaked a sponge at the intrusion of the rowdy men, but instead of lashing out he threw the files back into the box haphazardly and let the blueprints coil back up on themselves.<br/><br/>"Harley, carry this box." He demanded, picking up the blueprint roll and moving to see what the haul from the store managed to bring him. It was like Christmas in his opinion, and there was something akin to a child's delight in his eyes as he picked materials and put them into a milk cart and joined Harley on the stage that doubled as their bedroom and his office. "Well, put it by my desk," Joker growled, not out of anger but out of focus as he put the milk cart he carried onto his desk and sat down. Some would say it was crazy to go back to the place he had just gotten out of, but he didn't care. They had done a number on him and all his logical mind could comprehend was revenge, not to mention getting the Bat's attention. He was going to take over the asylum and force Batman to come into its walls...make him experience just exactly what it is that each person he puts in there goes through. Make him understand that he's just as crazy as the people he puts in there... He was so lost in his thoughts and plans as he worked on a gadget that he hardly noticed he was building the start of a bomb until the sautering iron slipped and burned the bed of his nail. Hissing and barking out a swear word he brought the injured finger to his lips for a brief moment before resting the tool on its stand and lighting up one of his clove cigarettes. Two hours had passed and he hardly noticed.