Introducing: Miss. Harleen Quinzel
Ivy makes and intriguing alliance with a future Gotham misfit. Meanwhile, Bruce is out of the country attending to Selina's care. Leaving Gotham in the hands of a potential mad man. Takes place after my stories "Shelter from the Storm", "Girl Trouble" and "Last Kiss".
Disclaimer! I don't own Gotham or the Batman characters. I just like to have fun with them.
I realize that my stories might not match up with what has happened or will happen with the Fox show 'Gotham', but only because I'm writing this before knowing the new season and new story lines. I'm not sure if Harley Quinn will be introduced, but if she is, this is how I would do it.
1.
~ In a rank and depressing neighborhood four blocks away from the nearest stop of any bus or train, Harleen Quinzel climbed up the five flights of stairs to her small, musty apartment.
She tried to fool herself into believing the old building had historical charm, but she knew deep down this was a lie. Just like she knew that she really wasn't as pretty as she liked to believe. Trouble was, she was very good at lying to herself.
She carried a sack of groceries in one hand and some patient files that Doctor Rosenbaum wanted on her desk in the other. The old woman was a tyrant now that she had a helpless unpaid intern to do all her work for her. Harleen wasn't sure who to talk to about the way Doctor Rosenbaum would bully her. She had been bullied all her life and perhaps that's just how someone like her was treated.
She twisted the key to her apartment door and was grateful she was finally home after a long day of running all over the city on Doctor Rosenbaum's personal errands. Her apartment smelled like it had never been properly aired out. The smelled of old things left in the walls to rot perhaps. It was entirely possible the building was never cleared out for the asbestos as well.
Still, it was all she could afford just now. Her job was unpaid and she couldn't take a second job and expect to finish her schooling. She was just a year shy of her doctoral thesis and she couldn't give up now when she could see the light at the end of the tunnel.
She gently placed her patient files on her makeshift kitchen table. Her precious groceries for the week, a bag of rice, bananas, peanut butter, eggs, a loaf of bread, lunch meat and cheese were put away in the tiny kitchen.
Her apartment was small and oddly proportioned, even for Gotham. There was barely enough room for a twin sized bed and hardly any closet space at all. Still, with the storm coming down outside, Harleen had to be grateful. She had case files full of patients who had spent their lives living on the streets. In fact, her most recent one was a former street kid.
Harleen helped herself to a banana opened Ivy's police report.
Ivy had intrigued the young phycology student during her visit to the police station. Where Harleen was awkward and insecure, Ivy looked like she belonged in a magazine or an old timey movie. The girl was confident and sat up perfectly strait. She was ever pretty nice to Harleen during her interview. It was hard to believe she had been one of those dirty street kids that littered the city.
~ "Don't worry." Ivy said with a sympathetic nod. "It will get easier. It's always hard the first few years."
"I thought I recognized you!" Harleen said with a toothy grin. She pushed up her glasses and appreciated Ivy's warm, movie star smile. "Gotham University. You're in the science lab. Working with the weird kid."
"Jonathan?" Ivy asked. "Yes. He's a bit of an oddity isn't he?"
Herleen nodded.
"But then again, aren't we all oddities in this world?" Ivy asked. "Sometimes I feel sorry for the rest of them."
"The rest of who?" Harleen asked. She was enchanted by Ivy. The young woman was everything Harleen wanted to be. Articulate, graceful and poised.
"Those who aren't like us, Harleen." Ivy said. "Those that lack imagination."
"I'm not that imaginative." Harleen laughed and snorted slightly.
"I bet your boyfriend disagrees." Ivy coached.
Harleen felt her face grow hot and tried not to blush.
"No one?" Ivy asked in surprise.
"I've been busy with school." Harleen said sadly.
"But I bet there is someone out there." Ivy said knowingly. "I know you think he doesn't notice you, but all men notice girls like us."
"Like us?" Harleen repeated as if under some kind of spell.
"Harleen, I want you to have something of mine." Ivy said soothingly. "It's my lucky red lipstick. I use it all the time. It's in with my personal possessions here in holding. I want you to have it and wear it. Trust me, the men will fall into your arms if you do."
"I can't check out your things from holding." Harleen said in alarm.
"Harleen," Ivy scolded. "That's not the right attitude. You need to project confidence. You'll never get what you want unless you demand it!"
And with that, Harleen went to the front desk and demanded, in a squeaky voice, that she be given accesses to Ivy Pepper's personal possessions at the time of her arrest.
"Hang on, sister." the sergeant said lazily and continued on with his phone conversation. Harleen waited, feeling more and more awkward before the sergeant returned with a box marked Pepper in large black letters. She couldn't believe how easy it was.
"I'll just take them with me. Give them to Doctor Rosenbaum in the morning." Harleen said quickly.
She slid Ivy's things into her school bag and hurried out of the police station. Her heart racing at the feel of her raw power.
~ Now, sitting in her depressing little apartment with the ant problem and the musty oder, she wished she had her new friend to talk to again. Ivy didn't belong in prison. Ivy was like a beautiful flower who might wither away in a place like that.
Harleen looked through her bag for Ivy's belongings and quickly found the most glamours things. A gold compact, an old fashioned beaded coin purse. Ladies handkerchiefs that were made in a vintage style. A tiny bottle of expensive perfume and cards to the most exclusive night clubs int he city.
Finally, she found Ivy's lipstick. It was in a special silver tube that looked like it had come from the jazz age. Back when daring women wore ruby red lips. No one used a thing like this anymore. Such a product went obsolete with the popularity of disposable tubes. No, a silver tube like this was reused when the stick was out. Perhaps Ivy had her lucky lipstick made in France or something like that. She was real classy like that.
With child like delight, Harleen pulled down her hair, pulled off her glasses and looked at herself in the mirror. She could be pretty. No matter what her mother said.
She touched the red lipstick to her naked lips and felt it glide on with ease. After that, the hard world she had always known melted away.
~ Bruce was woken up by the shrill, insistent ring of his cell phone. Since only a handful of people knew this number, he could guess it was Alfred, Vicki or Selina.
He didn't recognize the number that flashed on the caller ID, but saw that it was from here in Switzerland. The number most likely coming from a little clinic an hour's drive from the hotel Bruce was staying in.
He quickly tried to wake himself up. Lately he had almost been keeping normal hours. Sleeping all night and staying awake all day.
"Hello?" he said eagerly into the phone.
He knew it was Selina before she even spoke. There was a long intake of breath before she said his name in a shaky voice.
"Bruce?" she said weakly.
It was time for Bruce to play dumb. He couldn't let on that he knew where she was or what had happened to her. A delicate web of lies coming into play.
"Selina?" he said innocently. "My God, where are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." she said quickly. "I've just been… away from Gotham."
"What happened to you?" he asked. He had rehearsed what he would say to her many times before. He knew full well what had happened to her. How Ivy's little booby trap had almost killed her and then caused her abnormal abilities and strange behavior.
"I had to leave town for a while." Selina said weakly. "Did I wake you up? It's evening in Gotham."
Bruce let out a sigh. True, it was early evening in Gotham, but here in Switzerland it was the middle of the night. He had never returned to his home city after dropping Selina off for care. Her state of mind so befuddled after Lucius Fox's treatments, she remembered nothing about coming here. She didn't even know he was involved.
"I had a long day." Bruce lied. "Went to bed early."
"You should take better care of yourself." Selina said helpfully.
Bruce smiled softly.
"Listen, Bruce." she said quickly. "I won't keep you. I just wanted to call and say I'm sorry for… well, however I left things with you. I wasn't in a good place."
"I've already forgotten about it." Bruce said easily. "Where are you? Can I pick you up?"
"No." Selina said quickly. "I'm not sure when I'll be leaving."
Bruce said nothing. He wasn't sure how much Selina wanted to tell him.
"It's nice to hear your voice." he admitted.
He could almost see her smiling that sad little smile of hers.
"It's nice to hear your's to." she told him. "I'll let you go back to sleep."
"Call me." he told her. "Anytime. When you're ready to come home, I'll come."
She told him goodnight and heard the phone click off.
~ Selina had hung up the little phone in her hospital room. She had access to a phone now for several days but Bruce was her only real friend in the world. Bad memories were coming back to her. Bad dreams of Bruce in danger. Of something sinister hunting him down. It was nice of Bruce to offer to bring her back to Gotham. But he didn't know she was halfway across the world.
The prim little doctor who was looking after her told her nothing about how she got here and what was wrong with her. She had no idea who brought her to Switzerland, but she suspected the Batman was involved. She remembered him at least. Remembered how nicely her body fit into his.
Floods of other memories surfaced when she thought about the Batman. Stabbing Gordon in the hand, cutting Ivy, killing a nameless pimp in an ally. Worst of all, hurting her beloved Bruce.
Selina closed her eyes and curled into the covers of her hospital bed. She was safe here, but what would happen if she returned to Gotham?
'Do I even have a home anymore?' she thought pitifully.
~ Mayor Aubrey James loved being in charge of Gotham. He had been an elected king of the city for over a decade now and there were certain privileges that came with it. Namely the construction kick backs from his newest project.
"Arkham Island will be fully viable in a few months with this plan." said his lead city planner. "All the costs will be deferred by the federal government once we admit over a thousand inmates."
"And you can guarantee at least a thousand?" Mayor James asked.
A short, angry looking grey haired woman sat up a little straiter.
"I'm working on a list of very viable candidates." Doctor Rosenbaum said in a gravely voice. "We will have to have a maximum security wing of course."
"I don't want another incident like what happened the last time. With the murder of our director and all the electrode stocks to patients. It was bad press for me all over." The Mayor snapped.
"It won't." Doctor Rosenbaum assured him. "I'll be taking over as director and we will have a full security crew."
"What about the labor during the build?" Mayor James asked.
"From Mexico. Brought in by train. We pay them next to nothing and then ship them back. We charge the government for the cost of union labor." the city planner said.
The Mayor seemed unfazed.
"Our great country wouldn't exist without slave labor of some kind." he said.
He scribbled his name on the contract and place the pen back in his great pocket.
"Arkham Asylum will reopen." he said smugly.