Mad Quinn

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the movie TDK and the comic series.

Origins of Harley Quinn for chapter one: Harleen Quinzel was once a career-oriented psychologist whose life took a radical turn when she chose to spend a semester interning at Arkham Asylum.

A/N: I'm taking a new approach on TDK stories. I've suddenly had a kind of fetish for Harley Quinn and the Joker. Sure I like the original Harley, but I find a more darker, mysterious side of her pretty cool. So here's my chance! I'm going to show you all just how Harley Quinn came to be! And she's not going to be a giggly girl in this one who has no brains. After all, she is Doctor Harleen Quinzel. She had to get those grades somewhere. ;) Anyway, let me know and I'll continue! I'll also try to make the chapters longer, this is only the first chapter!

Chapter one: No Laughing Matter

"Not laughing this time, huh?"

The Joker looked up from his place on the bench, meeting the police man's eye. He glanced down to see his name was Tyler.

"Look at you," Tyler continued, "back where you belong. Thought you were all tough stuff back there, didn't ya?"

The Joker sized him up. Tyler was obviously a young man with a cute baby-like face and sky-blue eyes. Too bad he didn't look like he could fight much. He sure didn't work out on a daily basis, and he looked too kind to hurt a soul. The Joker inwardly rolled his eyes. Cops these days.

"You're lucky the Batman didn't let ya go." Tyler grumbled, fixing his uniform. "He should've let you fall down. Hell, he should've run you over when he had the chance. Anyone else would've. But I guess fate has its way of bringing you to justice."

The Joker could've gagged. Justice? What did justice have to do with anything they were saying? First the cop was letting him know just how lucky he was to survive, so where did justice fit in? A typical word used by all cops.

The temptation to laugh almost made him twitch; nonetheless, the Joker remained silent. He knew better than to do anything stupid in a situation as dire as this. The cop was right. He was utterly powerless right now—hands cuffed, in a vehicle with at least three cops all carrying guns. Instead, he rolled his neck, trying to erase stiff pressure building up there by popping it. Tyler eyed him with disgust, and the Joker allowed himself to give him an innocent smile once he popped his neck just the way he wanted. "What the heck are you?" The Joker heard Tyler whisper, more to himself. He probably didn't want the Joker to hear his question, but he certainly did hear it. And it sent pride coursing through his veins, seeing the pure uncertainty on the young cop's face.

"I'm just a man," The Joker told him, "who has high expectations."

"High expectations?"

"Did I stutter?" The Joker splayed out his lanky legs, smacking his shoes together in a erratic rhythm.

"I swear, you make absolutely no sense." Tyler rubbed his head, obviously bothered by the confusing man sitting a few feet away from him.

The Joker slowly—oh so slowly, in an elegant sense of style—craned his neck to look Tyler dead in the eye. "That's the point."

They looked at each other for a few seconds. Finally Tyler muttered, "I see no point."

The Joker leaned back into the wall of the small compartment, stretching his cuffed hands. "That's the point."

"What is the damn point?" Tyler snapped. The Joker stifled a wheeze of laughter. He liked how Tyler was losing his temper here; very amusing.

"The point that there is no point."

Tyler apparently had enough and turned his head, breaking eye contact with the Joker. Unconsciously, he placed his hand over where his gun was. Good. It was right there. If the Joker tried to pull any moves on him, he'll be prepared.

"You're a mystery." Was all Tyler concluded. The Joker smirked.

Doctor Harleen Quinzel took a seat on the chair, crossing her legs. Her patient, Tommy, stared hard at the floor. He looked ashamed.

"Now," She started softly, pen in hand, "tell me why you attacked the nice nurse."

"I don't like her." He grumbled bitterly.

"See, just because you don't like her doesn't mean you should just attack her. I don't like a lot of people, but I definitely don't go around attacking them."

"I showed her a picture of me when I was a kid. She called me ugly."

"Really?" She pushed back her glasses and wrote something down. Harleen honestly doubted a nurse would dare insult one of the patients here. But the true sincerity written plainly on Tommy's face was enough confirmation for her to doubt him. The nurse must've said something to set him off. Harleen simply decided to talk to the nurse later on.

Tommy buried his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even think when I did it. I just…"

"You acted on impulse. Whenever you ever do something, never do it on impulse. You'll almost always regret it, especially if you're mad. She really shouldn't have called you ugly, but physical contact definitely wasn't necessary." Harleen gazed at Tommy strikingly. "Now, you have to eat your lunch inside your room in result of your actions."

"Stupid nurse," Tommy complained. "I hate her!"

Harleen quickly wrote something else down. Inwardly she frowned. She was going to have a lot of work to do with this guy.

"Time's up," She informed Tommy lightly, standing up. "I'll see you again tomorrow, alright?" Tommy nodded, although not looking up.

She hurried from the room, hurriedly turning the pages in her mini notebook to her next patient. Her day has been more than busy—all she did was constantly rush from room to room, visiting her usual patients. But even though it was busy, she secretly loved what she was doing. She loved talking to people with mental illness—loved trying to figure out just what made them tick. At times it was harder than others, almost like solving a difficult puzzle of some sort. But after two long years of doing it—and five years of college—Harleen decided to take on Arkham Asylum, one of the most infamous asylums in the United States. She would take a semester here, and then go back to her original asylum back at home. Oh how she was so excited! Her career was blooming beautifully, shaping into something she's never once expected.

She sighed, rushing to where her temporary office was. Daily, after she visited Tommy, it was her lunch break. And she had the sudden fetish for Chinese food.

"I'm going out to eat." Harleen said to Penny, the secretary, as she passed. She found her purse and took the white uniform off her, revealing her normal clothes beneath. Penny stared at her, and Harleen had the feeling the girl wanted to go along with her. "You're welcome to join me."

Inwardly, and feeling instantly guilty, Harleen hoped Penny would decline her invitation. She didn't really feel like having to entertain someone on her lunch. She would like to have some time with herself, to say the truth.

"I'd go," Penny said in that monotone, dreary and bored voice, "but I don't have lunch break until another hour."

"Oh." Harleen took a moment to clean her glasses with a tissue she grabbed off the counter, blowing on them to get a clear appearance.

She began to feel uncomfortable under Penny's unwavering gaze. Hesitantly giving the bored woman a smile, she swept from the room, determined to fulfill her sudden temptation of Chinese food.

"Don't you try anything," Tyler warned the Joker as he slowly closed the metal door. The Joker rolled his eyes, turning to scan his new "room" for the next months of his life.

A twin bed with a tiny pillow and small blanket lay in the left corner. The floor had a white tile, but it wasn't clean. In fact, the Joker knew better to try to sleep on it.

He crossed his arms in deep thought. That's all they give him? A bed? Now what could he do with that? They could've at least given him a window of some sort. Even the lights above him were dim and dull, adding to the room's lack of creativity.

His thoughts darkened. He couldn't stay here long. He'd have to find some way to escape, for Batman was still somewhere in Gotham. His job wasn't done…yet.

"Joker," The door was suddenly swung open, and Tyler grabbed his cuffs over his hands. "Come with me. We've got a few questions for you."

"For me?" The Joker gave him an innocent, surprised expression.

Tyler didn't respond. He only leaded the Joker out of the room, easily closing the door closed behind him. The halls were all white—almost like a hospital—but as the Joker inhaled deeply, it had a different atmosphere. It didn't seem healthy or hospitable. This definitely wasn't a home for ill people; this was a home for mentally ill people.

He frowned as he obediently followed Tyler like a puppy-dog. He shouldn't be here. He certainly wasn't mentally ill. That's reserved for the crazy people, the ones that see things or hear whispers in the dark. Not him. His eyes narrowed on Tyler's back. Normally he wouldn't allow someone to talk to him like that. But for now, his life is in that man's hands. For now.

Harleen Quinzel was seated in a five star Asian buffet with a plate full of steamy fresh food sitting before her. After she placed her napkin over her lap and thanked the waiter, she dug in.

The rice was very well cooked, but she thought it tasted a bit plain. Needs salt, she thought after much consideration.

After she finished eating, the waiter took her money and tip, and then placed a fortune cookie over her table. Harleen checked the time. Half past noon, her lunch break was bound to end in ten minutes! She quickly thanked the man, stuffed the cookie in her purse, and scrambled out of the buffet.

Five minutes later she arrived back at Arkham Asylum, and Penny greeted her with a simple nod.

"Mr. Todd wants to speak with you." Penny told Harleen as the young doctor set her belongings down. "It's about something important."

Harleen immediately froze, her insides tensing up. Was she going to get fired? Did she do something wrong? She felt like suddenly running back out of those front doors, fear overwhelming her senses.

"You're such a drama queen." Penny noticed Harleen's nervousness. "I'm sure he just wants to go over your weekly progress."

Harleen visibly deflated. "Oh. I sure hope that's what he wants. God knows what I'd do if I lost this job…"

"Go to his office." Penny reminded her, and Harleen was quick to obey.

With trembling legs, a thumping heart, and horror-stricken features, Harleen made her way into the depths of the asylum—into the back rooms, where Mr. Todd's office was located. The lights grew dimmer, and the sounds of the patients silenced altogether as Harleen hesitantly stepped through the thin hallway.

Just say the truth. Whatever he asks you, don't bother lying. Honesty always does the job better anyway.

She finally reached his office, the man's name written grandly across the door. Harleen inhaled deeply before knocking, the soft sound sounding so loud in this overbearing silence.

"Come in," Mr. Todd called from within.

Harleen opened the door, and it groaned as she pushed forward. There he was—Todd sitting proudly at his desk, bookshelves adorning the background and two chairs greeting her. He looked up from his paper work to give her a welcoming yet eerie smile.

"Please," He said, "have a seat." He motioned to the two seats set before her.

Harleen sat down slowly, keeping her face void of any fear; despite the intense fear she truly felt. Mr. Todd flipped through a stack of papers for a moment, and after a few antagonizing moments, he found the paper he was looking for. He laid it out in front of him, ceasing the wrinkles for a moment.

"How do you like Arkham Asylum so far?" He asked.

"I love it."

"I'll bet it's a bit more challenging than the one you're accustomed to." Mr. Todd looked over the paper with a mere glance. He nodded. "You come from a small town."

"Yes I do. I love taking on challenges, Mr. Todd. This is my most beloved one so far."

"You have another six weeks here. What do you plan on doing?"

Harleen crossed her legs, searching quickly for a logical answer in her brain. "Well Tommy still needs some work to do—I'm not that quite finished with him yet. And Sadie, she continues to think that Beatle song was an omen of some kind, and it plagues her mind almost daily. I—"

"—please excuse my interruption," Mr. Todd abruptly cut her off in mid-sentence, "but what I meant was: how would you personally like to spend your remaining time here in Arkham?"

For once in a long time, Harleen was at a loss for words. She stammered nervously, gripping onto the edges of the chair for comfort. "I, uh, I'd like t-to finish on a strong note, I guess."

Mr. Todd smiled, obviously approving her answer. "You're a very intelligent woman, Dr. Quinzel."

"Please," Harleen grumbled, "just call me Harleen."

"We had something very interesting happen today." Mr. Todd began, sitting straighter in his chair. Harleen could sense something big—something important —approaching. "We got a new patient."

"Oh?" Harleen instantly perked up, generally interested beyond words. "Who is he?"

"The very man that has been terrorizing Gotham." He paused. "The Joker."

Harleen felt her stomach flip. The Joker? How in the world did they ever even manage to find him—let alone encage him?

"He's right here in Arkham." He explained, watching Harleen's face intently. He looked like he was searching for something. "I don't mean to frighten you, Harleen, but he's only a few halls down from us."

Despite her courage and strong mind, Harleen felt true fear quake through her soul. The Joker? Only a few halls from her? Oh how terrifying that was! Sure she's only seen him on the news every now and then, seeing her busy schedule and distance from Gotham, but even she knew the Joker wasn't just anyone. He was very frightening, even to a grown man.

"Does that scare you?" Mr. Todd asked quietly. "At all? Whenever I told anyone this, they walked out of the room. I must say, Harleen, I'm impressed. You haven't shown one ounce of fear—none."

Harleen's hands were trembling. She inhaled softly before speaking. "Excuse my manners, but what does this have to do with me?"

"I want you to meet someone." Mr. Todd suddenly stood up, and Harleen turned over her shoulder to see the door open. "Dr. Harleen Quinzel, this is Mr. Arkham—the man that owns this entire asylum."

Harleen felt her cheeks redden as an elderly man walked into the room, a stern and ripened face meeting her own. Icy blue eyes looked down at the fearful young woman, and she felt as if he were looking into her very soul.

"Dr. Harleen Quinzel," He spoke hoarsely, as if he hadn't used his voice in a long time. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Harleen felt like she was about to faint. The very man that owned this entire facility just complimented her?

"I looked over you progress for the first week," He began, taking a seat next to her. His previously stern expression was replaced with an impressed, giddy smile. "And I must commend you on your progress! You're progressing at a rather magnificent rate! Only on very rare occasions have I seen such improvement. You're helping our patients so much—teaching them so many things that it's unbelievable."

Harleen struggled to breath. She felt as if she was on the TV show where they played pranks on people to see their reaction.

"I can tell you're a dependable, strong young woman." Dr. Arkham probed. "I can see the determination swarming around you. I like that; I really do."

"T-thank you."

"I'm not going to be modest here, so please excuse my lack of reasoning. Dr. Harleen Quinzel, you are the finest doctor working here in this asylum at the moment." Dr. Arkham told her brightly. Harleen felt like the wind was knocked out of her lungs. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.

"Like I just said, I've been watching you. You've grown wonders." Dr. Arkham sat back in his seat, glancing over at Todd, who was watching the display with a proud smile. "You are, quite literally, the very hero Gotham needs right now."

Harleen's mouth went agape. "Pardon me?"

"The Joker is already settled in one of these rooms." He told her casually. "He's in confinement. Gotham is safe for the time being. It's up to you to help Gotham."

"Dr. Arkham," Harleen whispered in shock and misunderstanding, "I-I don't understand what you're saying."

"It's obvious Batman won't kill the Joker." Dr. Arkham told her softly. "So that's where you step in."

"Me?"

"Yes you. You're going to become the Joker's doctor and figure him out. Solve his mysterious past—find out his true identity, past, relations….anything. Dr. Quinzel, you'd be a big help if you did this."

"B-but I know so many other doctors that have much more experience—"

"—and they all went running out of the room when Mr. Todd even mentioned the Joker's arrival. You have the nerve—the strength to endure the Joker. I know you can do it! You're the only one here, Dr. Quinzel."

Harleen felt like she was put on the spot. She wondered what would happen if she simply walked out. Would she get fired? Is she being forced to do this?

"Now you don't have to do this." Dr. Arkham told her. "You could simply walk out of this very room right now, and continue on with whatever you were doing. But is that what you truly want to do? Wouldn't you like to treat the very man that made his way through so many heads? Wouldn't you like to become famous? Yes, famous. You'd be on the news so many times—become known around this entire country—because of your courageous actions upon taking this challenge. Also, I know you're not the kind of girl to have an ordinary job. You don't match the description. You look like the kind of girl that tackles challenges and fights back at them."

Harleen simply stared back at him.

"When you come to work tomorrow," Dr. Arkham said in a suddenly dismissive tone, standing up, "meet Mr. Todd and let him know you're decision. I'll be eagerly awaiting your choice. Good day, Dr. Quinzel."

A/N: Sorry there's no Joker and Harley stuff in this, but I wanna build Harleen's character first! Stay tuned for more :)

~YolandaFriella