White grease painted skin, black rings around his eyes so thick that only the whites of his eyes can be seen, curly green hair and ruby red lips smeared across the scars. Those were the first thoughts Harleen had when she met the Joker. Next was: what a shockingly orange jumpsuit. A color so bright it seemed to burn into her mind. She sat down across from him. Only a piece of glass to separate them.
"My name is Dr. Quinzel, I'm your new psychiatrist." She could feel his gaze as he studied her. He smiled the tips of his scars almost touching his ears.
"Hello." He purred. Harleen set a recorder down on the table and started it. She stated her name and asked the Joker to state his. He licked the edge of his lips as if to taste his words before he said them.
"My, uh, name? I have a lot of names, Darlin'. I prefer the Joker." The Joker drew out the r letting it echo in the small room. Harleen's eyes narrowed and a slight turn down in her lips gave her the look of a disapproving mother.
"Call me Dr. Quinzel. Understood?" She kept her voice monotone any slip of emotion could be a fatal mistake. If she was going to write a book on the mind of one of the greatest sociopaths in the world, she needed to remain professional.
He sighed dramatically, hunched forward, let his eyes roll up and growled out, "Fine, fine. Dr. Quinzel it is." Fear clutched at her at the sound of his demonic voice.
She quickly gathered her recorder, notes and holding them tightly against her chest like a shield. Harleen Quinlez resisted the urge to run from the room.
"Where ya going? The fun just's begun." The Joker yelled out. A giggle bursting from his lips.
"Does he suspect anything?"
"Of course he doesn't." Harleen snapped. "How could he? I was only in there for a few minutes."
The phone felt hot against her ear. She ran a hand through her blond hair taking it out of it's bun. When the person on the other end didn't reply, she added, "I was unprepared."
"I'm not surprised." The voice answered dryly. Dr. Quinzel felt a scowl appear on her face. "Remember the endgame, Harley. And for God's sakes when you go in there next time: be in character!"
"You're not the one who has to sit across from that psycho for an hour! Don't tell-," she cut off. A dial tone greeted her. "What a jerk."
This is a Harleen/Joker story with a twist. It's just my version of a Nolanverse Harley. Not really much of a chapter more of a teaser to see if anybody would like it.