Chapter 1
Dark, dangerous, foreboding. Arkham Asylum's appearance mirrored that of its patient's reputations. To the outside world it was sinister, but to Dr. Harleen Quinzel it was her life's passion, the place she went to care for those that society had cast aside. The one place she could make a difference.
As Dr. Quinzel got out of her car the sky opened up and a heavy downpour began. Just another gloomy day in Gotham City, she thought to herself. Sighing she opened the purple umbrella and rushed from her car into the asylum. Hoping she wouldn't get wet and have to spend the day in soggy clothes.
She wasn't even two steps into the main hall, when the bane of her existence appeared out of nowhere.
"Dr. Quinzel, Dr. Arkham wants to see you." Briggs Chandler snapped.
Harleen rolled her eyes. There was no one she despised in the Asylum more than Briggs. After turning down his advances for six months one would think he would give up already. But it was the exact opposite.
Most days the guard was easy to avoid, she would just sneak in when he was making his rounds. Today though, the traffic had been heavy and she had arrived later than she normally did.
She made her way to the elevator and pushed the button, the doors sliding open. She knew he wouldn't miss the chance to ride up with her. As the door slide closed Briggs stood as close to her as possible, his stale body order making her want to throw up.
As always when they were alone together he began to touch her hair. Right on cue he opened his mouth and began his seduction. Though Harleen wanted to tell him, he couldn't seduce her if he was thirty years younger and not forty lbs over weight.
"You know...I've always wondered what you would taste like."
Turning Harleen gives him the sweetest smile she could muster and ran her fingers up and down the middle of his chest. "And what did you come up with in all those hours of contemplation?"
Briggs took a deep inhale of her shampoo, "Like sugar."
Harleen drove the heel of her palm into his solar plexus. Briggs dropped to his knees with a grunt.
She towered over him, "Too bad your momma never told you sweets can be bad for you."
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. It was a shame because she would have liked to kick the old vulture in his balls. Harleen stepped out into the darkly lit hallway of the asylum's top floor, a smile painting her pink lips. One asshat down, one to go, she thought to herself.
She didn't even look back as she made her way to Dr. Arkham's office. All the while Harleen wondered what he could want with her first thing on a Monday morning. With Dr. Arkham one never knew what to expect, he was as unpredictable as the inmates they housed.
Raising her hand Harleen knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Stealing herself for whatever nonsense her boss was going to hand her, Harleen pushed the door open. She glanced around the office and wondered to herself how he could spend all of his time in such a dismal setting. Harleen thought maybe the doctor had head issues. God only knew with her upbringing she had enough of her own.
Dr. Arkham looked up from the files before him, giving the young woman the once over. "Good morning, Dr. Quinzel. Please take a seat."
He gestured to the seat before his desk. Wonderful, Harleen thought, the hot seat. It was rumored that this is where he made employees sit when he was getting ready to sack them. In the six months she had been here she had seen many doctors and nurses come and go.
Dr. Arkham watched as his young protégée smoothed down her skirt and sat back in the chair. She crossed her legs and placed her folded hands on her knee, waiting patiently for him to get on with the show.
He couldn't help but smile wide. Most of his hot seat victims would sit precariously on the edge, just waiting for him to strike. Not Dr. Quinzel, she just sat there as if this was any other social gathering.
"I am sure you're wondering why I called you here." He eyed her, watching for something to give her away.
Harleen was on to him. Dr. Arkham wanted her to squirm. She was the first female doctor that Arkham had and he wanted to see if she was up to the task. They had done this dance on their first meeting and every other since.
She held his gaze, "I'm sure you have a good reason to pull me away from my patients."
No fear, good...he mentally praised her. She was going to need that kinda backbone to face the lion he was about to throw her to. And if this meeting continued the course it was on, he would defiantly be sending her in to collect the information, he himself could not.
Tapping his fingers against the file before him, Dr. Arkham continued. "Dr. Quinzel, your grades are what got you hired. Impressive for the spoiled little rich girl I was told you were. At one point I had wondered what you did for those grades."
Harleen took his backhanded compliment in stride. He was posturing. Trying to make her feel as if the only way she could get through medical school was on her back.
All she did was smile and nod. There was no need to rise to his bait. Harleen would bide her time and see where he was going with this. If Dr. Arkham planned to get out of line like Briggs had she would just have to handle him in the same fashion.
When he realized he wouldn't get a rise out of her, he continued. "Then I realized something, you are the youngest woman to ever become a psychiatrists. Meaning you were too young to get through school any other way than through hard work."
Damn straight dickhead, she thought.
Still no reaction. Dr. Arkham was slightly uncomfortable by the way she just kept smiling and nodding along to what he was saying. He had thought this meeting would test her worth, in dealing with Arkham's most infamous inmate. But he was beginning to realize it was testing his ability to push her buttons.
"So I hired you to see just what all the fuss was about. You're a very bright woman. Mensa member from the age of 12. Finished High school at 15. Took four years of college and finished in 2. Need I go on?"
Harleen unclasped her hands and began to examine her nails, "Not really, Dr. Arkham. I accomplished all of it so I don't need a recap."
Now she turned her blue gaze towards him, "I do know that we aren't here to discuss my a lustrous schooling. So let's get to the point… will I be making my rounds today, our cleaning out my desk?"
He barked a laugh at the audacity she had to call him out on his shit. Oh yes, Dr. Harleen Quinzel would have no trouble facing her new patient.
"Your job is secure. Though you will not be making rounds today. Instead I want you to spend the day going over the file of your new charge."
With that he pushed the overstuffed folder towards her. He watched as her brow rose in curiosity. That was what drew him to Dr. Quinzel in the first place. It wasn't her grades, or that he had hoped to acquire the youngest female in his profession. It was her childlike innocence in the face of such madness. Her stark desire to make a difference in the lives of the criminals they housed.
Harleen pulled the file towards her and fingered the tab at the top. There in the bold handwriting of her boss was, The Joker.
Holy Shit, she thought. There was no way this could be happening. Should she pinch herself? Looking up from the file towards Dr. Arkham, Harleen realized that would be a bad idea.
He sat there studying her, like a cat does a mouse. Waiting for her to prove she wasn't ready to take on Arkham's most notorious inmate.
"Dr. Arkham, what is the meaning of this?" She tapped the file with one blood red nail.
He had to be jesting. Or trying to see if she would refuse to help an inmate if they seemed too troublesome.
"In the last few months you have proved your worth to our team." He paused and watched for a reaction, but still got none.
Standing he came around his desk and sat on the edge, towering over her. This was a far better position, letting Dr. Quinzel know he was still the top dog. That it was by his whim that she was being granted such an opportunity.
"So, you're rewarding me?" Her smile was sly.
Dr. Arkham found himself wondering if he had been wrong before. Maybe this sweet and innocent act was just that. Maybe she had slept her way through school. Perhaps not for grades but just to see how far she could wrap a man around her finger.
He shook himself. After all what did he really care? All Dr. Arkham gave a shit about was finding out what made the Joker tick. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dr. Quinzel would be just the woman for the job. Then he would just sign his name to her papers and the credit for cracking the craziest badass in all of Gotham would be his.
"Let's just say that this is another test." He pushed off the desk and paced over to his window. "If you can handle him…you can handle anyone."
Harleen rose from her seat, the file in hand. "I'm more than up to the challenge." She headed towards the door. "I'm just going to get right on this."
Dr. Arkham didn't turn from his position at the window. "You see that you do that, Dr. Quinzel."