AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This is my first fanfiction, this story is set after the events of The Dark Knight, and what I think would happen if Harley was introduced to the Nolanverse.

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Lamb to the Slaughter

This was it, months of training at medical school and I still didn't feel prepared, though I doubt I never would truly. I looked in the bathroom mirror, doing a final make up check and sighed. I still looked too childish - no matter how hard I tried to look professional. I'd scraped my blonde hair back in what I hoped was a sophisticated bun but it only emphasised my wide blue eyes and flushed cheeks. The lack of sleep was evident in the dark circles under my eyes which I had tried in vain to conceal.

Only two days my boss Dr Arkham had assigned me one of the most important cases of my career: the Joker. He had plundered on about my display of 'clearly well assured' methods and successes, trying to me win me over into doing the case, but I knew that the real reason he wanted me to do it was just because they had run out of other willing doctors. Despite this, I had agreed. I mean, this was the case of a lifetime! The Joker: the seeming impossible case to cure. If I did it, I would be finally recognised as someone big, you know?

This man, can I even call him that? He had openly tortured someone live on TV, blew up a hospital and had two ferries competing for their lives. After the complete chaos he had caused 2 months ago, he had finally been incarcerated by the Batman. This 'man' was the so called "star" of the asylum, feared even by the other super criminals there - and I was going to be his doctor. I was going to be famous. I could write a 'Tell all' book on my sessions with him, everyone would be interested, despite themselves. I knew it.

My anxious mind drifted as I drove to work. The asylum was a dirty stain of darkness on the whole city, its towering walls providing no barrier against the horror within. This beast of a building seemed to ooze of pestilence, the very air full of sickness enticing people in as prey to this monster. I'd never dreaded going to work as much as I did right now. He had already seen 6 different doctors during his stay at Arkham Asylum - none of them had lasted more than a week. I felt the butterflies in my stomach resurface as the complete hopelessness of his case dawned on me.

Pulling into the car park, I did one more make-up check just to calm my building nerves before making my way into the asylum. It was the middle of the winter in Gotham. The sky was perpetually dark, and the winds blisteringly cold. Wrapping my scarf tighter around my neck, I hurried to the door, my eagerness to be in the warm temporarily pushing the thought that I was getting ever closer to my first session with him.

"Dr Quinzel?" said one of the nurses at the counter as I walked over, of whom I did not know the name of.

"Yes?" I replied, trying not to let my nerves show.

"Dr Arkham wants to see you in his office" she replied. She must have noticed the worried look still etched on my face because she quickly added "Don't worry honey, he didn't look angry".

Pushing down the anger that swelled inside me I gave her a curt nod, thanking her coldly before making my way up to his office. So, possibly I over reacted a little, but I'm sick of everyone treating me like I'm helpless just because I was young and pretty. I was a qualified doctor, god dammit, and yet everyone felt the need to mother me as if they thought I was going to go running out the gates any minute. Though that thought seemed far too tempting right now. I knocked on Dr Arkham's door a little too hard, took a deep breath and let myself in.

"Good morning Jeremiah" I said, sitting down on the seat opposite his desk. He was an attractive man in a sort of classic film way with short dark hair and a strong jawline, however, he was - to put it nicely - a complete ass. We went on a date once, but it didn't work out and since then things were even more awkward between us. I couldn't understand why he couldn't just let it go.

"Good morning Harleen" he said icily. "How are you feeling? You session is scheduled for 20 minutes from now".

"A little nervous" I admitted. "And that's fine, I was just planning on doing a little introductory session today" I said, trying for a confident smile.

"Wise, but I warn you right now; he might not speak to you at all. Two of the therapists who saw him gave up after two weeks of silence with him" he warned me.

"I saw the tapes" I said uneasily, trying not to let my mind rest on the thoughts of the interview tapes I had heard; how he had ripped apart the minds of doctors (far more experienced than I was) in just one session. He seemed to be able to pick up on any of the doctor's weaknesses within 10 minutes, groping at the cracks in their psyche until they were gaping holes.

"Remember, you have your panic button I gave you yesterday and if you need anything the guards will be just outside. He may be chained up but he is still extremely dangerous" he said, placing a hand on my shoulder for support for a few seconds.

"Thank you" I said, smiling uncomfortably, the feeling of his hand still lingering on my shoulder. "I'm going to go set up, I don't want to be late" I said

"Dr Leland will be in her office once you're finished. I expect you to give her a briefing of all your sessions" he chided. I nodded at him and quickly let myself out of his office.

The walls of the asylum seemed to loom over me as I walked to my office. I pretended to ignore the rowdy comments from the louder inmates as I hurried down the halls. I had decided to carry out my sessions in my office to try and create a safe haven for my patients outside their cells. The walls were white and I'd made sure not to leave any clues around the room to indicate anything of my life outside of work. Some of the patients here were very cunning and would turn even the smallest bits of information against you. I glanced at the clock, sitting down at my desk. Oh god, I only had a few minutes.

There was a sharp knock on my door before a guard came in.
"Dr Quinzel, your patient is here" he said, spitting the word patient out with disgust.

"That's fine, bring him in" I replied as smoothly as I could, despite my pumping heart. I straightened my slouched shoulders and smoothed my clammy hands over my tight black skirt. The whole air seemed to shift when they brought him in, securing him to the chair as quickly as they could whilst trying to avoid touching him. My attempts at turning my office into a calming atmosphere suddenly seemed pathetically futile. He remained passive throughout the entire process, his eyes closed. I quickly raked my eyes over his face, trying to absorb as much detail as I could before he opened his eyes and caught me staring.

I'd seen him on the news a hundred times but nothing compared to real life. His skin was unbelievably pale even without the makeup, stretched taught against his cheek bones. The puckered scars, an angry red smile carved permanently into what would have once been a handsome face I'm sure. A disarray of wild, unwashed dark blonde hair spilled over his forehead, the end tipped green from his last dye job. He was far too skinny for his height, his bones protruding unpleasantly, his strange skin tight over them. Making a mental a note to question Dr Leland afterwards about his eating habits, I got out my notebook and pen.

It was five minutes into the session and he still hadn't opened his eyes. I cleared my throat and spoke.

"Hello, I am Dr Quinzel and I will be your new therapist" I said in what I hoped was a bright and friendly enough manner. His mouth pulled up into a smirk as he opened his eyes, causing me to gasp. His eyes burned. They were black in colour and so intense they seemed to blister with the heat of it. He looked me once over quickly before turning his scolding eyes back onto my baby blues.

"So they literally sent the lamb to the slaughter, hmm?" he said lazily, each articulated word rolling out of his curled mouth. My previous anger at the nurse rushed back to me at his words.

"Excuse me?" I replied, forcing myself to keep hold of our eye contact, trying to seem unfazed by his words.

"Look at you; you must be what, about 25? And yet they send you in here with me. They really must be running out of therapists by now" he said, mockingly, laughing to himself, revealing a set of straight but feral looking teeth.

"Well you have been an exceedingly difficult patient" I countered, trying to keep my tone light despite my deep aggravation, once against hating my 'cutesy' features.

"I try my best" he said, before leaning back and closing his eyes again. I quickly let out a breath, I hadn't realised I'd been holding, the minute his burning eyes were hidden.

"So I see" I replied haughtily, forgetting I was in a room with a mass murderer. He raised an eyebrow at my impulsive response but made no indication of answering. We sat like that for another 5 minutes, him apparently dozing off somehow in his chains, and me trying to think of what to say. Realising I had gotten all I would out of him today I called the guards to take him away. I didn't want to push him to talk in fear of angering him, but the silence was beginning to get horrifyingly uncomfortable.

The guards went about unchaining the same fashion, trying to do it as quickly as possible, leaving the chains on his wrists. Just as one of the guards was removing the chains of his ankle the Joker quickly lunged forward shouting "Boo!" in his ear, before throwing his head back in reckless abandon, the chaotic laughter streaming out of his mouth, making me cringe in my seat. Just before leaving the room, he quickly turned his head to face me.

"That hairstyle doesn't suit you by the way" he said flippantly, before being roughly dragged out by the same guard he had frightened, the door clicking behind them shutting of his jubilant giggles.

My hand shot instinctively to my hair, my mouth open in surprise. I looked down at my desk, and scowled as I realised I had forgotten to take any notes. So much for writing a ' tell all' book Harleen. I gathered up my papers quickly, still trying to wrap my head around this man's unpredictable and disarming personality before leaving for Dr Leland's office, unsure whether to be pleased or not about how the session went.